Realistic or Modern ａｆｔｅｒ ｔｈｅ ｗｉｎｔｅｒ || ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ

[Oumscar]

ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ ｓｈｅｅｔ

ｎａｍｅ：



ａｇｅ：



ｇｅｎｄｅｒ：



ｓｅｘｕａｌｉｔｙ：



ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ： （ｒｅａｌｉｓｔｉｃ ｆａｃｅｃｌａｉｍｓ ｏｎｌｙ ｐｌｅａｓｅ！ （ｏｒ ａ ｄｅｔａｉｌｅｄ ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ））



ｈｅｉｇｈｔ：



ｗｅｉｇｈｔ：



ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ：



ｂｉｏ： （ｐｌｅａｓｅ ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅ ｔｈｅ ｅｖｅｎｔ ｔｈａｔ ｃａｕｓｅｄ ｔｈｅｍ ｔｏ ｂｅ ｂａｎｉｓｈｅｄ）



ｔｈｅｍｅ ｓｏｎｇ：



ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ ｅｘｔｒａ：​

(feel free to do your own codey things, this is just a suggestion!)
​

 

[Oumscar]

WIP
𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓬

𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮:
Elijah Chakrabarti

𝓪𝓰𝓮:
24

𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻:
Male

𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂:
Pansexual

𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮:
(fc - Dev Patel)
Elijah is of Indian descent, and sports olive skin and shaggy black hair that hangs around his ears. He has
a slim, flexible build, with sleek muscle, and a spring in his step. Eli carries a goofy air around him, especially when
he flashes his trademark dimpled grin, and the corners of his chocolaty brown eyes crinkle up.

𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽:
181cm

𝔀𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽:
75kg

𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂:
Elijah is a clown. That's the easiest way to describe him. In the midst of a world-wide catastrophe, with millions dead, he somehow still finds a way to laugh, and crack a constant stream of jokes. Some may see this as a blessing- a small amount of levity in what would otherwise be the huge steaming pile of garbage that is the new world. However, many often do not. Elijah has a knack for pissing off the wrong person, at the wrong time. He can often find himself on the business end of a gun barrel for his antics, though no amount of near-death experiences could alter his mischievous ways.

However, this isn't his only setting. One of the only things Eli takes seriously is his work. He believes that everyone- no matter what -deserves his help if they are in need. Eli sees his skills as a rare commodity in the apocalypse, and saving it for himself and his allies would be selfish, and inhumane. As well this predisposition towards helping those in need, Eli is staunchly against the use of violence to solve his problems. While he admits it has become apart of survival nowadays, Eli still tries his best to exhaust every other option before resorting to harming another human being. When he's working, he sinks into an uncanny concentration, his eyebrows furrowing, and the tip of his tongue poking ever-so-slightly through his lips. Having to deal with the pressure of holding another person's life in his hands many times has given Eli the ability to remain exceptionally calm under pressure, despite his usually jovial demeanor.


𝓫𝓲𝓸:
Elijah was happy. At least for a while, growing up. His town was mid-sized, and acted as a trading-hub for the local area. Eli's parents were the closest thing to doctors that existed, diagnosing and treating patients for a small fee. Their efficiency and accuracy quickly spread, and there was demand for their services stretching far beyond their community. Elijah quickly found his parents becoming small-time celebrities, their skills nearly able to recreate the wonders of modern medicine. They weren't gods, but injuries that would usually be death sentences were resulting in miraculous recoveries under their watchful eyes. Elijah was soon thrust into the limelight as well, at least in their town. He had learned from his parents since the moment he could speak, and very quickly began showing an aptitude for medicine.

It didn't last- like most things don't. After returning from a week-long trip to a neighbouring town, Eli's parents weren't the same. Their skin had changed from a rich brown, to a sickly grey. Their eyes were sunken, and bagged. Whatever illness they had caught didn't take long to take it's toll. Eli soon found the full weight and responsibility of his parents job thrust upon his shoulders. What had once taken two highly experienced medical professionals to complete, was suddenly shoved onto a 20 year old boy, with neither the know-how or fortitude to meet the demand.

It didn't take long for the cracks to show. Elijah struggled through the workload for a week or two, before the communities leader was attacked by a bear, along a routine patrol. He was mangled, his legs torn to shreds. The man was brought into Eli's practice, screaming his throat raw as he was dumped onto the surgical bench. All of his practice and his study abandoned him. Eli froze, and within few minutes the man's panicked shrieks turned to gurgling whimpers, until finally his head slumped back onto the table. A town-wide fury was born, as news of their leaders death spread. The next-in-line to leadership needed a scapegoat, and Elijah was the obvious choice.

A mob of angry men and women- many of whom Eli and his parents had saved- drove him from the town with barely more than the clothes on his back. They screamed insults, threw punches, and spat on him, as he was literally thrown from the front gate, and out onto the hard, cold ground. Eli had no choice, but to venture out on his own.


theme song:​

 

[fin]

❝i didn't ask you, dad. i was telling you. ❞​

basics​

name: rowan.
nickname(s): rory (preferred nickname since childhood), little bastard (+ multiple other insults).
age: eighteen years young.
gender: male
birthdate: december fourteen.
ethnicity: supposedly italian-american, but who keeps record nowadays?
sexuality: heterosexual.
role: the raider.
​

appearance​

face claim: chase stokes.
eye colour: amber brown.
hair colour: dark brown with strands of lighter brown/blonde.
height: approx. 6'2
weight: around 170lbs., good portion of muscle.
distinguishable features: rory has a lazy left eye.
body modifications: rough sketch of a lion tattoo etched into his right shoulder.​

background​

personality:
at first glance, rory is a rather relaxed and quiet individual. awfully observant, he'd rather take a moment to analyze and understand someone before truly taking to an introduction or meeting. he's picky about the people he trusts and let in, having been on the move for so long in his life. he's never had to settle down and truly make a connection with anybody but his family before, and so is rather quirky and misunderstood when it comes to associating with strangers... not that he's eager to, anyways. he may even come off as judgmental, opting to surround himself with those that best benefit him in one way or another, and discarding any dead weight he believes won't help him out. he's not necessarily cold-hearted, mainly misguided for so long in his life.

in spite of the abandonment he faced as a child, with having grown up in a community, he's been instilled with the mentality of keeping everybody safe if he can and is aware about it. he doesn't have to like you to save your life.

though he didn't grow up with many children his age, or kids in general, rory has always been an amiable personality to his close friends and loved ones. once he's finally able to put down the barrier between himself and others, it's all transparency from there on out. one would realize that in spite of his hardened exterior, he's a carefree daredevil on the inside, and is just as up for some fun as well. he also holds truth and loyalty dear to his heart, scarred with his mother leaving him only so young. even the smallest or most innocent of lies could cause a rift between rory and the person, and as proven in his backstory, he's very vengeful. even if planning, and patience is needed, rory is intelligent enough to wait for the time to strike. but if all manipulation and dishonesty is avoided, he'd fight tooth and nail for a friend.

as for his survival, rory's intelligence sort of blends in with his actions. though he may come off as impulsive, and short-sighted, he thinks with his actions and has grown so accustomed to certain actions, that he doesn't need to pause just to rationalize. he's stubborn in the sense that he's uber sure of his skills, and doesn't need someone else's approval that he is or isn't. he's aware in himself that he's more than capable. because of this, he tends to get bossy, and even more controlling in survivor's situations.
background:
rowan was born to a 'fortis' tribe couple during one of the community's pit stops. his mother and father had been respected members of the tribe, youthful and strong, which fit the tribe's whole ordeal. in the tribe hierarchy, rowan's mother was the heir to being leader of the community, and his father a strong worker and soldier in the travelling pack. but as the story goes, a series of events lead to rowan's birth. due to having to tend for a baby, rather than focusing on the well-being of the tribe at large, a rift grew between rowan's grandfather and his mother, along with the rest of the community. the trio, rowan, his father, and mother, were now seen as deadweight in a community where "unnecessary birth" was frowned upon in order to keep food circulating. this grew to the point where his mother was met with the ultimatum of keeping her status as heir, or tending for her child along with her husband... she chose the community.

rowan was raised primarily by his father, and his paternal-side's family. schooling, tutoring, and babysitting were things of the past, especially for travelling communities like the fortis. he learned things by sight, copying, and repetition, like any other fortis child. in rowan's case, he was adept at learning, and comprehension... all besides his name though. as a child, he referred to himself as rory rather than rowan, and so the name stuck (unless he was in some deep shit). with his father having been so close to tribe royalty at one point, rory's father passed down the privileged royal information and lessons on to his son. things that were rare to learn such as reading and writing, speaking a second language, and more were passed down to rory through books and word. he also learned some things on his own with his curious mindset, playing around with plants and their various properties, and other raider skills like charming, manipulation, and more.

with the constant travelling, and "up and going" of the fortis, staying in shape was hardly a problem for rory. besides their ability to infiltrate and steal, the fortis were known for their excellent physique due to moving primarily on foot. but as he grew older though, puberty surely hit rory hard. he gained plenty feet in height, put on weight, and hell- even started to resemble his mother more and more. in his teens, rory grew a bigger role in the community. he joined the front lines, the toughest men and women tasked with being the brawn of the fortis, along with their primary hunters. his joining of the front lines wasn't to help the community or any of the sappy shit, he just knew that when he came of age, he'd be given the opportunity. the opportunity that came annually to challenge the leader of the community and take control of it all. everybody eighteen and over could do it, though with his mother's family having been in power so long, no one dared try to usurp them. but rory was sick of his paternal side being the bottom feeders of the community, and was looking forward to the annual challenge.

rory rose the ranks of the fortis front lines, and impressed even in his rookie years. with the survival instincts of a bottom feeder, and intelligence of a royal, he was one of the most strategic and excellent members. he rose the ranks swiftly, and brought plenty of respect to his family... but respect didn't equal comfort. following his 18th birthday, rory didn't hesitate to file for the challenge once it came around. it was a surprise for the community who'd long forgotten of his connection to it's leaders, but not to his mother who was now leader. rory left his front line duties to train for the challenge until it was the day of.

he faced his mother shirtless, and surrounded by howling villagers in a cage that was fenced shut. his choice of weapon had been a short dagger, and his mother's a longsword. in spite of his training and athleticism, his mother was fierce and fast. it wasn't common for the leader to enter battle unless absolutely necessary and so rory hadn't been well-versed in her capabilities. he was put down after a long fight, and as per ritual tradition, was banished from the community for opposing it's leader.

the 'fortis':
the fortis are a community of raiders and scavengers founded decades ago once the dusts of smoke and radiation had cleared for the most part. it's founder was edward fortis, appropriately named fortis which is the latin translation of steadfast, valiant, and strong, all things needed to survive in the ruined world. edward was a strong and burly man, but a philosopher as well. he preached of visions, and lessons that desperate people believed in, in order to retain some semblance of sanity. in a world torn to ruins, sometimes a 6'7 man with a wrestler build speaking gibberish was what people needed to believe in. still, there was some truth to edward's words. he believed rebuilding would be left to the government that'd so terribly screwed citizens up, and instead that in strength and numbers, they could take and create what they needed to survive. the community grew, and of course in time gained proper leadership, but the motto remained the same: "only the fittest will survive." some variations replaced the word 'fittest' with fortis.

as a member of the fortis, members are ordered to drop their surnames. rightfully so as with a lack of documentation, came a lack of real need of surnames. jobs, and ranks were formed based on the individuals' capabilities. what started out as pay based on talent and contribution grew into politics and lies like any other government. the fortis are believed to have traveled countless wastelands, and sections of the land, gathering resources, connections, and more. their people are taught basic survival, map orienteering, and are made to be familiar with the environment so they understand what exactly they need to raid or steal. along with their connections, they've made countless enemies in stealing and "justified" killing as well.

fortis is one of the most memorable, and barbaric communities to date.​

miscellaneous​

theme song: to be determined.

skills: athletic, excellent close-quarters fighter, survival skills and intuition, naturally gifted botanist, speed-reader, quick learner, stealthy, is able to read maps and orient compasses, various connections and fortis alliances.

pet(s): rory befriended what he thought was a stray goldenpoodle at the age of fourteen, and the two dog and man instantly developed a strong bond for one another. it wasn't until months later of taking care of the dog that rory was made aware that his dear 'bella' was a mutant. somewhere, somehow in a mix of evolution and radiation, bella developed snake-like fangs and venom that appeared primarily when she was mad. the venom is capable of imbuing a short paralysis when forced into the victim's bloodstream with her fangs. aside from this odd manifestation, bella tends to hiss in greeting and anger, rather than bark.

albeit a cute pup, the six-year old pup is rather sassy, and bold. bella wants her own way and will fight for it, but is also always at rory's side when he's in danger. it helps to have such a loud personality when rory would rather keep to himself, and find ways to stay alive and useful.​

 

[Nessi]

Name: Travis Collins

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Sexuality: bisexual

Height: 6'0

weight: 160 lbs

Role: The Gunslinger

personality: Travis is a fairly quiet fellow, but is quite nice to those he knows and can trust. he's very observant, being able to pick out the smallest of details. He doesn't like to be around too many people, and would much rather prefer to be alone, but understands that sometimes it's necessary to work with groups for a little while.

Background: Travis grew up in a trading town known as "The Rundown". It was a small town, not very well known, but did have a reputation of having good items. They moved every now and again, but for the most part, they stayed in one place for a while. Travis was born between a married couple, and actually had a pretty happy childhood. He had a decent amount of friends, and most knew him as the energetic boy who was always willing to help people. Time would fly, and Travis would be a teenager, and his father would teach him how to use a sniper rifle, and forage around for stuff that is edible. It was around his teenage years when he started dating a girl named Amber, who was known as one of the prettiest girls in town. But other's grew jealous, and plotted to ruin Travis on his 18th birthday...
Travis would finally become the age of a man, and for his 18th birthday, a small get-together was suppose to happen. Nothing too fancy, just a few friends coming over for dinner. Travis received a note from Amber, saying that she wanted to meet him somewhere outside the village in the afternoon. So Travis went to the location where Amber was suppose to be, only to find a dead body...the body of Amber. He collapsed, not knowing what to say or do, he wept over amber's body. Soon after Travis found Amber's lifeless body, Villagers were led over by a few boys, who had told them that Travis killed Amber. Travis tried to tell them that he didn't do anything, but no one listened to him, and voted to banish him from the rundown community. He was told to gather his belongings, and be gone by sunrise.Travis's father looked at him before giving him his sniper rifle, a backpack with 2 weeks worth of food and ammo, and a sleeping bag. "I know this wasn't your fault son, your the last person I thought to have done this " He said with a sad voice. He hugged his son, before walking giving him a gentle push away. Travis's eye's burned with tears as he marched out of the town.

Theme song: Strawberry's Wake

 

[smolpaws]

r a s h i d a​

Rashida Janelle Thompson ; 25 | Fem | Hardly romantic, but demi | 5”9.5 | 129 lbs.​

Appearance

maybe in another life, she would have been a supermodel; but with her strong ethics and personality, it’s hard to think rashida would waste her time in the runway when there’s a planet to take care of. Her occasionally freckled skin is a burned caramel, while her eyes are pools of chocolate. Frizziest in the heat, her hair is otherwise relatively tamed aside from the bounce of her curls that are usually leashed and pinned up due to the hot seasons. Arched brows, pressed lips, long lashes and a lithe body that can surprisingly manage on its own well enough physically though her lack of interest (or remembrance) of food contributes to her thin exterior.​

Personality | bio

rashida comes from a family farm with a long inheritance of land, land and, well, more land. Her relatives for years back know hard work better than anyone, and distribute it equally to everyone although some roles come a bit more naturally to some than others. While she has the work ethic and “sweat blood and tears” mentality, she is in a way softer than her family, which makes her harder than anyone else to satiate. She values life, not so much that she can’t put food on the table but that she would be willing to share it with others despite the risk. She tired of her fathers cautious, close minded mindsets (although she shares them from time to time, naturally) and her mother’s lack of welcoming to outside visitors. she believes complete isolation will be the death of them, and left on her own with threats of not being welcome back home, to prove to them that there is more out there than their sheltered life within Thompson’s Acres and Vineyard. Otherwise, she’s lived a good life and perhaps just good enough that she doesn’t understand the difference between behind and beyond the fence.

She is highly no nonsense, after all she practically raised her four brothers and did a lot of extra things growing up in place of her mother, whose health has gradually, slowly, deteriorated over time. She understands how to negotiate with logic, but lacks to emotional understanding of a hard earned rest break, or enjoying the sunrise (much like her father, who says real work is never done and a real worker never quits). While her siblings went to work in the city, or study abroad, she stayed behind, both under her fathers wishes and because she fell prey easiest to the inability to leave home and explore outside. Perhaps it was a bit of guilt and fear, or maybe it was the draw of tending to the farm and all she had ever known. Yet as she grew older and saw the interactions her parents shared with others selectively versus what her brothers would tell her over Skype, she became curious.

What else was there?

And unfortunately that curiosity came in the worst of events - during a time where they were more of a family surviving in a settlement than just an agricultural landmark contributing to the nearest communities. She hasn’t quite had time to register the immense gap.

Theme song : WIP

Extra :

Has experience skinning, butchering, assisting with animal birth, collecting resources, nurturing, a green thumb and preservation of natural commodities.

Never got her license.​

 

[plague rats]

Loner WIP​

Name: Clement 'Clem' McDaniels

Age: 25ish, he isn’t entirely sure

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bi

Appearance: Clem is tall with the build of a long distance runner, all lean muscle and angles. His skin is weathered and tan, matching his stark features. His dark curls are usually kept pulled back, sharp jaw obscured by a fuzzy layer of scruff. Sleepy hazel eyes are at odds with his otherwise stern appearance.

He obscures his appearance as much as possible most of the time, covering his face with hoods and crude masks.

Height: 6’2”

Weight: 154

Personality:
Clem was never good with people and the better part of a decade living in the woods hasn’t helped much. He’s distrustful of just about everyone and though he’s blunt to the point of outright rudeness it’s somewhat curbed by how quiet he is. He prefers to listen rather than speak and won’t voice an idea until he’s sure of it. That can take some time- he’s a tremendously patient person and approaches everything with a careful, focused intensity.

It isn’t that he dislikes people, he just rarely feels the need for company. He’s got an independent streak a mile wide and it’s always just been easier for him to go it alone than try to work with others. Some people might find him stubborn but he’s more adaptable than he seems. He just doesn’t get the point of arguing- if you can do something better than him, he just wants you to do it. He loves working with his hands and can spend hours fixing up pre war junk. He tends to hyper fixate on problems and gets irritable if he’s interrupted, one of the reason he values his privacy so much.

Most humor and subtext flies right over his head but he’s fond of word play and physical comedy. During long stretches of solitude he’ll often entertain himself by creating nonsense songs and rhymes about whatever is around him. These songs also help him remember information about places he’s been and when he’s trying to recall something he’ll often hum or sing to himself.

Despite being decent at self defense the core of Clem’s survival method is ‘stay quiet, stay hidden.’ Being on his own puts him at a significant disadvantage against large gangs of raiders so he does everything he can to avoid drawing attention to himself. He’s kind of like a stray dog. Wary, ill mannered, and dirty. But there’s a playful layer beneath it all. He has a strange love for the wastelands- no matter how difficult and dangerous they may be they’re his home. It’s constantly surprising him and that’s what he loves about it.

Bio:
Clem was born in a fairly large trading hub, a cramped dirty settlement where he couldn’t turn around without bumping into one of his siblings. His parents were merchants and he was always fascinated by the traders who would come by to sell their goods. While they bartered and argued he would hover in the corner taking inventory and fetching food and drinks. He was only fifteen when one of them offered him a job and his parents were more than happy to have one less mouth to feed.

It was the first time Clem had ever really left the settlement. He can still remember that first journey out into the wastes, the noise and grime of the hub fading into the distance as they walked out. It was a quiet he’d never known and the tight ball of anxiety that’d lived inside of him since childhood untangled immediately. Everything was open, wild, and alive. Not that it wasn’t dangerous but his whole life he’d been told there was nothing out there anymore. He took to scavenging like a natural and found there was more than he could ever imagine. The traders he worked for taught him the basics of the land, how to find shelter and which plants were safe to eat. He traveled with them for a couple years but eventually even that felt too restrictive so he set off on his own.

Ever since he’s been wandering. Most of the times he sets up camp out in the wastes, bunking down in some crumbling store front or motel or just pitching a tent in the woods. Most of his food is hunted or foraged. Anything else he needs he gets on his rare trips into settlements, trading his scavenge for supplies. Aside from occasional run ins with other scavengers he can go months without speaking to another human being.



Theme Song: A Horse With No Name

Extra:
-Despite being borderline illiterate, Clem keeps detailed journals of his travels, mostly maps of settlements and ruins, diagrams of plants and animals, locations of stashes and safe houses, etc. Notes are kept in scrib, a mainly pictographic code used among traveling traders to communicate with each other.

-A surprisingly good cook. Not exactly a gourmet, but more than capable of making tasty, filling meals out of foraged food.

-Competent field medic. Couldn’t perform surgery or anything but does decent stitches. Knows a lot about medicinal plants.

-Travels by bike a lot, has gotten good at repairing them and other simple machines.

-Does some convincing animal calls.

-Has a strange fondness for Swatches. He’s always on the look-out for them and often wears multiple pieces from his small collection at once. None of them work but he doesn’t mind.

-An absolutely terrible liar.

 

[Terrier B]

Bird Bones

' The Kid '

​

Name: Bird Bones
Yes, You heard me right. That's her actual name. What started out as just a joke, ended up sticking. It's rare however she'll often go by her full Sunday name (I can't possibly think as to why), so more often than not, she simply goes as: 'Bo'

Age: 17

Gender: As womanly as they come I suppose,

Sexuality: Still figuring that one out in all honestly.

Appearance:

​

Bo's a lithe little thing. All skin and... well, bones. On the smaller side all around really. Small arms, small hands, etc. 'Pint-Sized' they used to call her. Otherwise however, she's got a relatively tan complexion, her body marred with the usual small scars and blemishes a life in this rough world naturally provide. Her features are dark, and heavy, with deep brown eyes and and what looks to be a forgotten birds nest left atop her head. An altogether rather scrawny looking girl. But despite it all, don't let her diminutive appearance fool you, she's a quick little bugger is this one.

Height: On her tippiest tip-toes, she reaches just about 5'1"

Weight: 49Kg. Needs more meat on them bones if you ask me (If you'll pardon the pun)

Personality: Like any adolescent, she has her ups and downs. In many ways, Bo's a typical teen at the moment. Almost full to the brim of turbulent rebelliousness and unruly attitudes on a day to day basis. Most things said come packaged with a sarcastic quip or a cheeky comment. Bo can be quick-tempered too, and at times a little impulsive perhaps. But I'm sure that's all just down to the last few remnants of adolescent moodiness. But I promise you, deep down, underneath all the false and layered impudence, she's a big old softie at heart. Bo's kind despite it all, in her own quite subtle sort of way. She might not particularly flaunt it, and she'll shrink away from the action if it's pointed out or made particularly public. But she's a good heart, and will strive to help out as best as she can for the most part. She's actually quite a comical little soul too if you can break through all of that teenage angst. She knows all the cheesiest jokes, and knows a few good dirty ones too.

Bio: Birdie Bones was born to a very... well, lets say 'interesting' tribe. The 'Midwest Mighties' (Their own choice of name, not mine) are a community that's primary focus resides almost solely on brute physical strength. They were a bunch of complete rejects and outcasts truth be told. Criminals, murderers and thieves that nobody else wanted. So they all decided to stick it out with each other. As I'm sure you can imagine, a babe so small and scrawny as Bo was not exactly off to the best start amongst this sort of crowd. Bo's biological parents took one look at their baby girl, and simply went "No thank you." They rejected her before she was even wearing nappies. Luckily, or perhaps not so luckily for Bo, there was a couple within the tribe that had taken on a habit of gathering youngsters that nobody else wanted, but that they themselves could see a use for one day or the other. In Bo, they saw her small scrawniness as a possible future boon. For there was nobody else within the community that would be capable of sneaking about as well as she would surely be able to do.

Growing up within the famed 'Midwest Mighties' when you couldn't even bench-press 10KG if it was to save your life, was not a easy thing to do. Bo had it tough, real tough. Within the midst of that tribe, Bo had to learn to rely on her other, more internal strengths than that of her physical attributes. She sharpened her wit, and told jokes and funny stories to try and make herself popular and likeable within the small community. She worked hard on her speed and agility to make herself scarce whenever a situation got just a bit too hairy. And so, life went on. It was hard, and lacking in it's more happier moments, but at least she wasn't dead... I guess.

Now as any decent philosopher or leader will tell you, brute physical strength alone will not sustain a community. A series of agricultural problems began to swallow the Tribe. And when half of the population doesn't even know what agricultural means in the first place, things aren't going to end particularly well. Slowly but surely, people either died, or left. Survival in the tribe was becoming increasingly cruel, and increasingly brutal. Perhaps in a last act of supposed kindness, or perhaps just so they would have a mouth less to feed. Bo's sort-of parents kicked her out of the tribe. Despite all the efforts she'd made to make herself popular and liked within the community for aspects other than her physical strength, not one soul vouched for her, or fought for her right to stay. The tribe decided they would rather be without her than with her.

Now, she'd never admit it to anyone, but that choice hurt her.

Ever since then she's just sort of wandered. Trying her best to scrape by.
But hey, still not dead.

I guess.

Theme Song: Any of the songs where this man makes Goat noises to be honest. That said, this one's pretty good. Anyone got a match?

Extra:

- Despite everything, Bo's a rather creative sort. She really likes sketching and drawing, and just doodling in general. Any spare scrap of paper, or paper like substance she can get her hand on is a true treasure in her eyes.

- Somewhat surprisingly, Bo's actually a rather promising budding Stick n' Poke Tattoo artist. Her materials vary and depend on the environment she finds herself in. But on the occasions she finds herself in the company of good ink, she's actually a rather dab hand. She even takes requests and commissions, for a good price of course.
Her own collection of tattoos include:
+ A small somewhat jaunty smiley face just above her knee (It's upside down to anyone else that sees it, and the eye's aren't exactly level with each other. But it was her very first one in fairness to her)
+ A series of small symbols are scattered across her left arm. They vary in size (and precise-ness) but all hold some value and importance to her.
+ A small, yet still rather intricate dancing little Skeleton man resides happily on her left abdomen. She's rather proud of him.

- I wouldn't exactly call Bo's ability to run and climb as Parkour exactly, but her skill in that roundabout area is still something to be noted. In a rather instinctual manner, Bo has a remarkable ability to run away and hide. Give her a wall and she can think of the best and fastest way to get over it. Lock her in a room that seems inescapable and I bet you she'll at least be halfway down the road by the time you go to check on her. When it comes to endurance and long distance, she falters, but when it comes to having a quick mind and even quicker feet, Bo's your gal.

 

[San]

<<|𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓁𝒾𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓊𝓈𝓈|>>
leader outcast

"in a cruel world, a kind heart is an oasis for many."​

<<|𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷|>>
-Name: Amelia Winter Gauss

-Alias(es)/Nickname(s): Amy​

-Age: 18|Eighteen years old​

-Gender: Female​

-Sexuality: Asexual​

​

<<|𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮|>>
-Overview: Amelia, a tall and fair-skinned young maiden that carries with her, an air of bravery. Her demeanor does not match her beautiful and naive look. She has a glowing and enamoring oval face with a round chin, with her small nose and determined-looking dark-brown eyes complementing the rest of her face like cherries on top. Her flowing medium-brown hair is cut short into a style known as a bob cut, very different from the trending hairstyles in her former settlement. She has long, slender arms, a fairly average waist, and a balanced body; her torso or legs not too long or short. All in all, she is regarded as one of the most beautiful individuals in her settlement. While Amelia does acknowledge her natural beauty, she usually wears modest, conservative clothing with cool tones. She does not wear make-up or any jewelry as she believes it promotes useless vanity, taking it so far as to not even dress decadently for a social event.

-Height: 6'0'' A tall young lady indeed.​

-Weight: 135 lbs|About 61.2 kg.​

​

<<|𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂|>>
-Overview: Appearances can be deceiving when it comes to Amelia Gauss. Beautiful and smart, what a dainty little lady, many who see her at first glance might say. However, ever since she was a child, everyone knew Amelia had the spirit of a brave warrior. Fearless and determined, she never lets anything or anyone run her away. She's always open to trying new things unless they are unproductive. She is not afraid to speak her mind, always persistent and unwavering in her opinion but she has manners when doing so, ears always ready to hear the other side of the argument. She is warm and not snooty at all towards people she knows but icily distant to strangers at first, though she never thinks ill of anyone and is always willing to be understanding. She can use her charm and looks, but her confidence is enough to spell out that she's a leader at heart. She can be overly-ambitious, resulting in some embarrassing mishaps. She most likely will not relate well to people outside her community as she has lived a fairly comfortable life for a person after the apocalypse. While nobody's perfect, her personality in all causes many, especially her fellow settlement maidens, to envy her and perhaps the very reason she was chosen to be the next likely leader.

Summary: +/Brave +/Confident +/Tenacious +/Understanding +/Polite -/Cold at first -/Stubborn -/Overly-ambitious -/Lack of perspective​

<<|𝓫𝓲𝓸|>>
The Tragedy:
As Amelia was told, she was found just outside a mid-size settlement called, "The Lighthouse." A group of scouts from the settlement were scouring the area for signs of anything helpful to the community when they had found her loudly wailing in a big, worn-out, brown sack neatly hidden in a withering desert bush. Next to the sack where little Amelia resided, were two dead adult bodies, bullet-ridden. The scouting group guessed that the baby must be related, as Amelia's appearance matched the corpses. The truth was exactly that. They were Amelia's mother and father, expert nomads. They came from a once-powerful post-World War III tribe, but during an inevitable schism, raider parties saw their opportunity and split them up. When Amelia was born a little after the split, they knew they had to settle somewhere stable. A place where Amelia could safely grow up. From their travels, they heard about The Lighthouse, a midsize-haven in the New Midwest. What they didn't know was that they were being followed by one of the raider parties from the previous incident. Nearing the end of their journey, Amelia's parents realized what has happened. Not too far away were raiders and their unsightly but tamed beasts, perhaps they were pre-World War III animals that had become prey to radiation. Thanks to her parents' quick thinking, Amelia was hidden. Her parents' struggle was not long at all, as bullets swiftly ended their lives.

The Rise:
Sherp Fatima, a woman who was the head of the settlement's scouting group, was the one who found her. Fatima felt sympathetic towards the baby as she herself was abandoned at youth, so with the permission of the settlement's kind leader, Fatima became Amelia's guardian and parent figure. Since the murder of her parents happened when she was a young age, she hardly remembers them. More so, since Fatima has been there for her since the incident; Amelia has always thought of Fatima as her big sister, and even, her mother. The two got along pretty well and sometimes argued just like a normal family. Through Fatima, Amelia was taught how to scout and use self-defense. Fatima's good standing with the community mixed with Amelia's beauty and natural aptitude for learning useful skills had given rise to Amelia becoming quite popular with the adults, and especially the leader who has commented that she would be one of the best candidates if not the best candidate to be his successor. While she has gained friends from her age group, her popularity had bred jealousy among her fellow youth, as some still saw her as an outsider.

The Fall:
A few days before Amelia's eighteenth birthday, there was a turn of fate. A group of five, young Lighthouse individuals had come into contact with an ex-raider, pistol in hand, from the same party that killed Amelia's parents. In exchange for bringing Amelia to him, the raider said that he will spare the leader and the rest of the community. The group filled with bitterness towards Amelia had kidnapped her. She was caught by surprise and tied up with rope. They then tossed her inside a huge sack. Upon meeting again with the ex-raider, the group handed the sack. However, the ex-raider did not keep his promise, he knew the settlement was fairly big and that might sound threatening but it had no real defense. So the ex-raider went on a murder spree, opening fire with his pistol. Many had been shot, and undeniably there was death. Screams filled the air and just when things were about to stop, the ex-raider threw dangerous make-shift grenades everywhere, fully fulfilling the lie that he would spare the community from ruin. Gagged and bound, Amelia was helpless. However, Fatima stealthily made her way to the assailant and tackled him by surprise, causing him to drop the sack that contained Amelia and exposing her to the two. Fatima saw her and was shocked. In her defenseless moment, the ex-raider stabbed Fatima with one of his knives, but not before doing the same to him and cutting Amelia's restraints away.

The Choice:
With the high, unfortunate amount of deaths and the community shattered, many, especially the youth, looked towards Amelia and blamed her for being the source of the problems. A once-loving community to her had suddenly turned into a bitter, hateful crowd. Afraid of any more tension and unwanted violent confrontations, the leader suggested that she leaves Lighthouse. The leader gave her many useful supplies and accompanied her until she reached the southern border of the settlement. After two days of wandering alone through the deserted New Midwest, it was Amelia's eighteenth birthday. Though, it wasn't much of a celebration...

<<|𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓰|>>
(Both songs have the same melody, but the moods are different. I'd like to think of Snow White as the song that plays when things are good and Red Rose when things are bad.)

())Snow White|Pocket Mirror(()
Xxred rose|pocket mirrorxX