Of God, Men and Knowledge

[MissOutlaw]

The Outbrake...




​

Between three and two and a half years the out brake has swarmed over nations and desimated the population of the human race. Consuming the world completely.


But as to where or why the Outbrake happened is a mystery. Many theories have been speculated and races have been blamed for this insident.


The question of how, where, why and who still hangs in the air. But no clues as to where the viruses origins were have been found. Just the simple facts: The Virus was air born and Infection means death...


One of the theories was that the Virus was made by the Goverment as a Bio-Weapon. Ment to whipe out entier civilizations. An ultimate weapon to win Wars and conquer countries. Making Fear their power over people. This is more believable considering that it wouldn't be the first time that the Goverment was oblivious to the distruction of their creation.


Another theory is that it was a Flew Virus that had mutated to a dramatic dagree. Scientests had already suggested that this Virus would be the only one with the capabilities of transforming into a far more lethal condition. Even though there is much evidence to this claim many disagree with this, believing it to be too farfetch.


Lastly is the third theory which comes from a religious point of veiw. This is the first of the Four Horse Men, Pestilence. The bringer of the plague. The begaining of the end, Dooms Day...the Apocalypse. For people of Faith it is none other then the End of Days. But for those who need proof a prophecy in the Bible isn't going to cut it.


They all come from different people with different minds and point of veiws. The truth can be one or all three. The reasons as for why, who, how and where doesn't change what has happened. It just distracts the mind from what the truth really is: Nothing will change if the human race does not fight for their survival. It will be the Apocalypse, giving in is not an option...

Walkers & New Borns




​

Walkers, the undead, flesh eating zombies that plague the land and dwindle the numbers of the human race. The start of extinction. These beings are slow moving and can only exert small bursts of energy to either catch their prey or throw them to the ground. Not many survivors sit around long enough for this to happen. For the few that do they end in a grizzly blood lust and eventually walk amoung these beings. Almost every human that has came into contact with a bite or consumed any of the blood becomes infected and turns into a Walker.


However these are called New Borns. New Borns are humans just newly turned by the virus. They are just as fit and quick as their host was before the bite. These are more dangerous Walkers and should be dealt with quickly before they become a major problem. They also seem to have a moderate since of intellegence and are smart enough to duck out of the way when a gun is aimmed at them. Best way to avoid the situation all together is to take out the person bit before they change so this breed will not raise again and join the frey.

Stalkers...




​

Stalkers are the worst of the Walker species. The chances of running into one of these and not have any casualties is slim to none. These beings are faster then the New Borns and much more lethal. With constant moderate intellegence and primal characteristics this creature is the last thing you want to see in a hoard of Walkers. The change happens when the virus mutates within the host after being infected, through bite or consuming infected blood. The mutation causes a rapid growth in muscular dencency and slowing the progress of decay. Making these creatures have longer life spans. Aside from the internal change within them the external is what most take note of. Nails become thick and sharp like claws, while the teeth turn to canines. This being not only is stronger and faster, but it also has a predatory mind set. If you manage to flee from a Stalker do not think you had escaped it. These creatures will follow their prey for miles, hunting them down like an apex predator. This is where they get the name Stalker from. Simply because they will stalk their prey until they bring it down and feed on it, infecting it. And unlike the Walkers where you have to be biten to become infected, the Stalkers only have to claw you to be able to infect you. Though their claws may sting, their bite is excruciatingly painful.


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1. Don't kill off any characters without the concent of the owner.


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[Dino]

Photograph:





Full Birth Name: Bradley Aaron Jacobs


Conversational Name: Brad or Bradley


Alias: Jack Silver


Background: Grew up in Florida and moved to Harlem California Is currently SWAT team. His Mother and father had both died from an illness they had acquired, He hadn't got married or had any children.


///Status File:


Occupation: SWAT


Marital Status: Single


Known Relatives: Mother and father (Deceased)


Current Residency: Harlem CA


///Medical File:


Age: 27


Ethnicity: American


Height: 6'3


Weight: 186


Hair Color: Brown


Eye Color: Blue


Build: Strong


Tone: Slightly tanned


Skin Condition: Healthy


Skin Tone: Tanned


Blood Type: B


///Equipment/Armament file:


Ex.


Clothes: His SWAT uniform and Gas mask/


Primary Weapon: M4A1 With AMG scope and 6 magazines with 30 rounds in each.


Melee: Baton


Special Gear: Gasmask


(Just guessing we're continuing from the leave from the camp.)


Bradley sighed. "You reckon they will look after the girl well? He looked across at Sawyer. He pulled something out of his pocket, beefy jerky, snapping it in half handing one half to sawyer. he unclipped his Mask and slowly chewed on the delightful taste in his mouth. He hadn't eaten in hours so this was a good feeling for him. He brushed his hand through his hair and looked around at the trees. He heard a slight rustilng. He turned to see one of the walkers shambling down from the tree line. He pulled out his baton and waited for it to reach them before. Bam it smashed straight into the walkers face and it fell flat on its back dead. After finishing the Jerky he clipped the mask back on and continued walking along side Sawyer.

 

[MissOutlaw]

Character Name - Sawyer McGrath


Age - 29


Clothing - Shoulder Holdsters, Hip Holdster, Navy blue Tank, Green Cargo Pants, Military Combat Boots and a Leather Belt.


Appearence - http://www.rpnation.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=7373&d=1348219622

Spoiler

Weapons - Corner Shot Gun and Combat Knife (Info for Corner Shot Gun http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CornerShot ) http://www.rpnation.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=7372&d=1348219595

Spoiler

Biography - Sawyer Mcgrath, was an Military Special Ops Soilder. On the day of his 16th birthday he enlisted into the Army and four months later he was put into BootCamp. Sawyers childhood was grim and home was never a place he wanted to be. His father, an Ex-military man, used to drink his money away trying to forget the battles of his past. When he was fully intoxicated he'd take his frustrations out on the family, mostly Sawyers mother. On good nights things would just end in a shouting match, an argument. But other nights weren't so easy. His dead beat father would eventaully strike his mother for something she did or didn't say. He never really had or needed a reason, he just did it because he could. Sawyer always got in the middle of it, trying to brake the fight. He hated seeing his mother get hurt but the reason he did it was so his little sister Wendy didn't have to watch. Hardly did he ever make a difference, but for a sort while the abuse would be turned to him and away from his mother.





When Sawyer turned 20 he returned home for his week of Leave to be greeted with the same violance that plauged his childhood. But enough was enough and this time he was bigger then his father. It took only a slight bit of effort to knock him to the ground and leave him there shaking. Sawyer had done what he could not to beat the man to death, so instead he left him with a warning, "If I ever hear or see you in this town again, I'll make sure next time I put you in the ground." If Sawyer ever had the urge to kill anyone that was the one and only time that it struck him. Enough was enough, his family didn't need that trash in their life.





The months and years that followed were peaceful. His family wrote him daily and when mail came, half of the sack was filled with their letters. But when the arrival of one of Wendys letters came he requested immidate Temperary Leave. His mother had fallen ill by some Unknown disease that was killing her from the inside out. From the detailed description in Wendys letter it wouldn't be too much longer before she was gone. On his 26th birthday his mother had passed away, marking the date of his birth as her death. It was a hard and difficult time for him and his sister. If only he had known that his life would become dramaticly altered, perhaps things would've been different.





Wendy got her mothers illness. It seemed it was contagous, a viral infection that was most likely air born. The doctors cautioned Sawyer not to get to close to her or stay in one room with her for too long. He didn't listen, this was his sister they were talking about. He could care less if he got the virus or not, he wasn't about to let her spend the rest of her days alone. When the day finally came that his sister past he placed his head at her bedside, sobbing over the loss of his family. However Sawyers greef was soon replaced with panic as his dead sister had sprung back to life. Problem was she was no longer the same, his little sister became what they now call a Walker. A undead flesh eating Zombie that had no recolation of past memories and beloved family members. She attacked him and sunk her rotted teeth into Sawyers forearm. In a panic Sawyer gripped his sister by the head and snapped her neck. He couldn't believe what had happened and what he undoubtly done. In the mist of his sorrow he buried his sister next to his mothers grave.





The news warned people not to be bitten or consume any of the virus infected blood of the walking dead. Sawyer figured it was a fate he deserved, but to his surprise that fate never came. It became clear to him that he was one of the rare few that were Immune to the Zombie Virus. He had hope with this. Sawyer is now at the age of 28 and has been searching for any remaining survivors. He hopes to find a place where the Virus hasn't reached and start over...





Personality





Sawyers personality precedes him as a head strong, self sufficent man with a foul mouth and bad attitude. Standing at 6'5 and about 230 pounds Sawyer is as fit as any acvite Military Soilder. Though he looks for survivors Sawyer isn't one to get to 'Comfortable' with anyone. This is in case he has to make the hard desition of shooting a fellow allie in the head because of Infection. Sawyer is smart and thinks three steps ahead before rushing into a sistuation. Due to his drive to live he will take down anyone that gets in his way, whether they are infected or not...


Nationality - White Caucasian


Residency - Bowman, Georgia


Gear - Military Duffle Bag, 5 Bottles of Purified Water, MREs (food), Flairs, Grenades, Smoke Bombs, Binoculars, Lighter, Cigarettes, Car side mirror and a Medical Kit.


Relationships/Family- Mother and Sister both deceased, Father unknown (dead hopefully)


Traveling Companions - Bradley Aaron Jacobs (aka Jack Silver)


Sawyer took the cig Brad offered, slipping it between his lips. Once it was lit he took a few short puffs listening to his partner, "You reckon they will look after the girl well?" Sawyer snorted a bit, not answering. He had to get his mind off of it. The thought gave him slight flickers inside. She effected him in the way he didn't want. Having emotions was over rated, it only got you killed. Speaking up he scowled, "I don't really care. Lets just get those supplies." The smoke trailed above his head, flowing behind him as they walked together. A Walker stumbled out into the open. His head leered over, his face and ugly expression. Bradley had it though, pulling out his Baton. Sawyer looked over at his side, seeing if any others were with it. It seemed there was only the lone Walker and Brad took it out with one good swing to the head. Both men strolled off, silence hanging in the air. (sorry short =/)

 

[xxZANE]

Name: Zane (No last name – After the outbreak he dropped it)


Weapons: S&W model 500 Revolver with scope and silencer, .500 Magnums, Carbon-Fiber Parang Machete, (http://i45.tinypic.com/28pob6.jpg ) ( http://www.c1k.com/images/condor/CTK412-17HC.jpg)


Clothing: In the pic. White shirt, Leather jacket with Leather gloves, White Gause underneath, black loose fit army pants with a few pockets. And some Black chucks. A Shoulder strap


Picture:


View attachment 7470


Bio: Zane was part of the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group(Also known as the NSWDG), Better known as the SEAL Team Six(ST6) He was part of the United States secretive counter-terrorist and special missions Unit (SMUs). During a mission in Afghanistan there was a huge shoot out between opposing forces, killing 4 of his team mates in front of him, One of whom was his older brother – Charles. As he returned home he was diagnosed with (PTSD), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After a few months of mandatory meetings with his Spychiatrist he was cleared for work. Wrong move. Once returning to the field he was on a classified mission to retrieve special schematics for weapon development from a hostile camp in Afghanistan. Upon arriving in the country of Afghanistan him and his 3 man team infiltrated the compound to retried said schematics receiving a warm welcome from the Afghan forces. He had been in a situation were he wasn't in his right mind, all the pressure and violence over the years of the course of his career were too much. After the death of his brother he was left with a mental Devastation only he knew. Once put into a situation, wrongfully diagnosed by a sphyciatrist, he snapped. In his mind what he saw were all Insurgents, people who needed to be eradicated. He ran from the facility in a dazed of confusion, The blood of his team and the enemy on his hands and clothes. He reached a town where he murdered innocent children and their families. The only thing that stopped him was running out of bullets and the Afghan took him under custody. They shipped him back to the united states after leaving him for 3 months in a hole with little food and water, battling for his sanity. Once arriving at the states he was stripped of his rights and proffession, to be tossed in one of the worst prisons in the United states of America; ADX florence Facility, In Florence, Colorado where he spent the rest of his time until the outbreak.


He was raised in Sacramento California, He was raised mostly by his mother because his father was a military man who was rarely seen. He had 3 siblings, 2 brothers and one sister. Him and his brother Charles had joined special forces together after being recruited specifically for their over achieving in military conduct and specialties. His other brother James was a in-and-out career criminal. He was the bad seed of the family, But he was loved none the less. His sister Myra studied to become a doctor, she was only 21 when the virus hit. His family didn't survive. Upon escaping from the bathroom suage system of a now, zombie infested, colorado jail he traveled on whatever he could find fighting off the growing infection towards his destroyed home, in Sacramento California. When he reached his home he found his Mother and father shot, dead, but it was apparent that they were already infect. Someone had already taken care of the job. There were no traces of his Sister Myra and Brother James. At this point he had gathered supplies and raided his secret compartment under the floorboards, Grabbing his S&W revolver and his Carbon-fiber Machete. He packed up a few things and said his goodbyes to his parents and wrote out a note, Leaving it on the door as he exited; 'If you return, you know where to find me!' Being in the family of an army man they always had emergency plans for this type of situations. He knew that if his sister and brother were still alive, they would know where to go. Fort Benning Georgia. In Fort Benning Georgia there was a Military base were his father had ordered to go in case of a National Catastrophy. There were military men and security at that point where Military families could go for protection. That was were he was heading, hoping that they were safe, or just alive if anything else.


Personality: Quit, reserved, Batling his own demons. Patient, Sneaky and very alert. He never opens up about anything, Unless he gets close to someone. Depends.


Nationality: Native American and Caucasian.


Residency: Was in Jail in Colorado. But Family Lived in California. He is in California, with plans to head towards Georgia


Gear: Everest Deluxe Large Camo Army Military Backpack. In It he carried a bottle of Tequila Half empty, 2 army knives, a packet of raisings, 2 cans of Vienna sausages, 2 bottles of water, a loaf of bread, a compass, a road map, a watch, a pair of army boots, A home maid shank from prison made with a melted plastic cup and a sharpened metal Nail (He only kept it for keep sakes), a crumpled worn out picture of his family – with his father dressed as a military man , 2 pack of cigarrettes, a bottle of lighter fluid, a box of 100 matches, And 4 boxes of 24 .500 magnum bullets.


Relationship/Family: James (Brother 27)- Location Unknown to him, Myra(sister 21)- Location Unknown to him, Charles (Brother 25)- Diseased-KIA, Winston(Father 52) – Infected and shot, Marrianne(Mother 46)-Infected shot. No girlfriend.


Traveling Companions- Ixiss, Charlene (I think lol)


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Name: James


Weapons: A metal Baseball bat, A Desert eagle .50cal. 1 box of 20 bulets and a 12 bullet cartridge. (http://img.ehowcdn.com/article-new/ehow/images/a05/1q/eb/juice-baseball-softball-bat-800x800.jpg)


(http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d180/thumper_6119/DesertEagle1.jpg )


Clothing: A brown Leather vest, No shirt, Black low cut jeans white belt, Dog tags and Brown Work boots.


Picture:


View attachment 7471


Bio: He is the oldest of his siblings. When he was younger he never really had a father figure, just like the rest of his brothers, But as the oldest he was always looking after them while their father was off being a Military man. When him and his brothers got older he had to sacrifice his education to look after his siblings, when he realised that they were growing up to be important people and he haden;t made naything of himself he shunned himself out. He became a criminal, Selling drugs, buying drugs, going to jail countless times for possesion, dealing, assault, armed robbery and other petty things. Never really staying in prison for more than 8 months. He was a wreck. He never had a stable relationship to go home to and when he did have the decency to return to his parents house they always had something against him, Saying he would never better himself. His own father looking down on him because his other brothers were part of the military branch and he was just a bad seed. When he heard of his brothers death he blamed his father for the whole thing blaming him for leading his brother into the army life and cursing his existance. After learning his brother Zane was in Prison he went to visit once before the outbreak, And told him he would return home. Throughout his whole life he had carried an inferiority complex. But when the infection hit, he felt more like home. He felt like he mattered and he was useful. He did what he could to survive, That's what he always did.. Including returning home to kill his 2 parents and later on his sister, who he had found hidden at home in tact. She began to travel with him, and when a huge hoard attacked she was infected. He had to do what he had to do. He wouldn't be traveling to georgia, thinking his brother was in prison probably dead, and the rest of his family taken care of by his own hands. He wanted to remain in the states, fighting. He loved to fight.


Personality: James' personality spews out from his experiences. He is rough to get along with, Vulgar and not well spoken. Disorganized and somewhat lazy. He is outgoing and seems to be an angry person, But reserved.


Nationality: Native American and caucasian


Residency: Currently traveling in the state of California.


Gear: Black regular book bag with one case of .50 cal ammo, a bottle of water, a baseball bat strapped to the side, a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, M&ms, tabacco chew, 2 beef sticks, a broken radio, a first aid kit, a switch blade, And some rope


Relationships: None. Everyone presumed DEAD


Traveling: No one at the moment.





_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Zane leaned back against the tree listening to Ixiss talk. She made a lot of sense, they had to continue moving. He wouldn't want the dead to close in on them. He sighed and pushed off the tree with his shoulders, "I Agree with you completely" He said in a Monotone voice. He walked over to his tent grabbing his backpack putting it on, his machete sticking out of the top comfortably for easy access. His eyes where steady and dull as he grabbed his Magnum from inside the shoulder holster in his jacket. He paused for a moment Examining the scope to check if it was properly calibrated. He popped the roulette out and saw it full, five bullets. It would be enough, he knew those .500 Magnum Caliber bullets could take out an elephant in one shot. He smirked as he jumped back to the thought of himself shooting it for the first time and how it recoiled in his flimsy hands, the pressure bringing his whole hands crashing against his chest and he dropped the gun. He smirked and closed the roulette placing the gun back in his holster. "If anything" he began turning his attention to Ixiss again "We need to get as far from here as possible.." He walked past her walking over to the road, trying to see if everything was still clear. It was. For now.


__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________





James kicked through the body of the dead, searching through their pockets and clothes for anything useful. He didn't really care much for looting, because whatever he needed he would take. This was his type of world. He gave off a smirk as he found a pocket knife in a dead man's jean pocket. "HA! motherfu*kers" He yelled out, standing straight again walking out of the empty gas station. He had found some great stuff. A pack of mints and 2 waters of bottles. Plus he had found 2 cans of fruit in a corner. things were beginning to get rough. There was less and less food to take everyday. He smirked walking over to his beat up blue dirt bike. He sat onto the dirt bike, he turned it on and looked around. He had take out 8 of those dead fu**ers and he was proud. he gave a slight smirk and wiped some of the blood off of his bare chest with a piece of cloth he threw on one of the dead bodies' faces. "See ya, dead bag" he winked and blew it a little kiss before speeding off on it weaving through cars. He was wreckless that he was sure of, but he was a damn good survivalist.

 

[CaterpilAli]

Character Name - Ixiss Ravenwood


Age - 23


Clothing - Tight fitting leather black top, black jeans, a pair of leather gloves, dark sunnies and flat soled boots practical for running and movement


Picture(If any) -View attachment 7469 (minus the shotgun)


Weapons (Total of 2 Including Melee)- Colt .45, bigarse machete (Cold Steel Gladius machete)


Nationality - Irish


Residency - New York, or it was until the whole pandemic started. Now she just goes wherever she can manage


Gear: Ixiss carries a large backpack with her whenever she goes on the move. in it she carries dried food suppliments, water, a small gas camper stove, a simple bowl and cutlery, and some fruit, which she stocks up whever she can. She also carries extra ammo, a pair of handcuffs and a sharpening stone, as well as her gun cleaning equipment. Three changes of clothes are shoved at the bottom, along with a toothbrush, hairbrush, other womanly essentials and a basic makeup kit. Because every woman has to look good even in an apocalypse. She also has a small first aid kit, a pocket knife, a can of deoderant and a small pack of painkillers.


Bio - Ixiss grew up in the rougher parts of Dublin, where junkies littered the streets, prostitutes worked in the alley beside her apartment building and cops busted people regularly for distribution of illegal substances. Her dad was one such person. He used to abuse both her and her mother after a night at the pub, and one day he ended up beating her mother cold. That was when she snapped. She called the police and he was busted for multiple counts of possession and distribution, not to mention domestic violence. Ixiss swore to become better than her father, to rise above the stain he left on their name. So she joined the Police academy, and graduated top of her class. She and her mother moved to America when she was offered a position in the force of NYPD. She was working in the special forces unit when the virus struck. Now she goes it alone, trying to survive and to find a way to stop the infected from getting to the innocent.


Relationships/Family- Father is in jail, her mother ended up in a mental institution due to the trauma of her husband's actions against them. She was engaged, and then she found her fiance in bed with another woman, on their anniversary. She kicked him out of the house, along with the floozy bimbo more than three years back now. She now refuses to get close to anyone.


Who are you traveling with: Zane


~~


Ixiss sat in the opening of her tent, the sound of the sharpening stone on the metal of the machete echoing through the air. She knew that they were meant to be hiding, but she would rather be found with a sharp weapon, than hunted down with a dull blade. 'We can't stay here. They'll find us eventually. God knows how long this place had been set up before we got here. Someone will stumble upon it, and attract attention, then we're all screwed.' She pointed out in a calm and level tone. She wasn't trying to be rude, or ungrateful for the night's rest she'd had, she just didn't particularly feel like dying any time soon. Whether they agreed with her or not, she was going to leave at some stage. She'd rather have someone to watch her back, but if she had to go it alone again, then she would.


(Sorry, didn't know what to write)

 

[Wingal]

Name: Nash Morrison


Age - 17


Clothing- Average fitting jeans with a too large Polo shirt, Though if he likes of find it useful he will pick up anything he finds like the hoodie he is wearing in the picture below.


Pic-


Weapons- A Tactical Rifles M40T4 equipped with a scope, and a pair of Ice Picks





Nationality- American


Residency- Was originally born on the border of Nevada facing California but after the outbreak never really cares anymore.


Gear- Has a over the shoulder bag in which he stores all of his supplies including 6 rounds of ammunition, 2 bottles of purified, matches, a solar charged flashlight, a series of Childhood photos, and a silencer but is unaware of how to add it to his rifle.


Bio- Since his birth he was quickly given up by both of his parents who believed heavily that Nash was nothing but a mistake. Though in foster houses he never was picked often to go home with a set of adults coming in to adopt though when he was tried out for a while he was returned with an excuse stating that he wasn't what they looking for in a kid. Due to this repeated pattern Nash found himself going into a state of depression usually refusing to even interact with anybody who would try. When he reached the age of 10 he was finally adopted out to an old hunter who saw nothing in Nash but a challenge or maybe even a possible successor. Being in a huntsman's home he was thought how to aim and shoot a gun almost as soon as he had reached their two story home in the woods. Though the man tried he did not have that much of a possible outlook on his life which his foster Dad rarely showed disappointment in. At the first mention of the outbreak the man was confident in the fact that it would reach them but Nash being a bit more calculating and picky about this kind of things took precautions keeping tracks of everything the old man did. At the first time of the disease present of the old man he had already began preparations to leave before the man awoken to be a walker. He left one night with all his supplies he would need leaving the man in whatever condition that he would end up in, feeling he wouldn't be able to bear the burden to kill him walker or not.


Relationships/Family: Foster Fathers health and location is unknown but is most likely a walker or something worse by now.


Who are you traveling with : Is currently Tailing Sawyer and Bradley.

 

[Charlene]

Character Name: Charlene Sinclair Sculley





Age: 24





Clothing: Black skinny jeans, black heel lace up boots, white tank top, black bomber jacket.





Weapons: A M1911 pistol she has no idea how to use, and a red axe strapped to her back.





Appearance:





That is Thomas on the left.








Biography:


Charlene’s father, Sebastian was a physics professor at a private college in Vienna, Austria. For a man who could never be wrong, it was a fitting occupation. He was very talented in his field, and his students vigorously absorbed every concept he fed them without complaint. How could the extinguished professor possibly be wrong about anything? Yet those sort of statements only served to inflate the man's already infinitely large ego. Her mother, Anelie on the other hand, was a nurse at a local hospital. She was a hardworking woman, the type who would always volunteer to continue working well after the end of her shift for the sake of her patients. Anyone who knew Anelie would say that she was a very generous and well-liked person. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that she was also a lying, cheating woman. The last member of the family was Charlene’s beloved older brother, Florian. In no way was he perfect but compared to his mother and father, he was a saint. Sure he did drugs, got into fights, and was caught for the occasional petty theft, but there was one thing he did that his parents never did and that was actually take care of Charlene.





For a while, things were relatively peaceful in the Sculley household. As peaceful as it could be with a raging psychopath as the head of the family at least. Day in and day out things ran smoothly, and Charlene’s family behaved somewhat like a normal family. However, tensions were always high and on occasion, someone would do or say something that would upset her father, which made him go ballistic. During such episodes there would be a lot of yelling and screaming; objects were thrown, tables were flipped, and doors slammed shut hard enough to shake the house, but no one was ever hurt. There was nothing physical, and anything thrown was never aimed directly at someone. Then each time, without fail, everything would go back to normal the next day. Everyone would pitch in to fix up the house, and their normal routines continued on as if nothing had happened. The incident would never be spoken of again, and that was that. That's how Charlene’s life went about for most of her childhood. All she had to do was keep quiet as much as she could, stay out of her father's path, and be diligent with her schoolwork and chores to appease him. Those were the happy days when life was manageable.


When Charlene entered the seventh grade, life decided to blindside her. Her mother, Anelie, who had always been the one to comfort her at night and hold her hand when she was scared, was exposed as a lying, cheating woman. For her nursing job, it was normal for her to stay late at work. That was just the type of person her mother was, always going the extra mile for her patients. However, as it turned out some of those "late nights" weren't spent at the hospital at all. She had a coworker who was a surgeon at the same hospital, where the two of them had spent quite a few nights together at his flat. When the infidelity had been exposed, Sebastian was more infuriated than he had ever been. However, this wasn't another minor incident. It was a giant bombshell, and Anelie became the main target. Charlene didn't witness anything that happened that night because her father immediately grabbed Anelie and dragged her to his room, but that didn't mean Charlene couldn't hear anything. Even behind locked doors, she could hear her father's voice shaking the house. He was an extremely self-centered and prideful man, so finding out that his wife was cheating on him was a huge blow to his ego. That was it. No one knew what happened in that room, not even Charlene, but the apparent bruises, cuts and black eye on Anelia spoke the truth. Anelie was forced to leave her job as and everyone was moving to America, where Sebastian found a new occupation as a professor at the University of Chicago. Everyone followed as they were told, and settled in a nice home close by campus where Sebastian was absent most of the days. Things never did change after that, Sebastian was still that loud, prideful man, and Anelia was a broken down mess who had never left the house considering what happened in Austria. Florian grew up and moved out taking the occupation as a lawyer, while Charlene was pushed and flew through medical school, becoming a nurse just like her mother. The house was quiet as the days grew old. Anelia was a housewife, cooked, cleaned and did her job like any mother would, but rarely spoke to her husband. Sebastian was gone most days as a professor, and retired at the age of fifty five; who then sat at home drinking his life away. Charlene moved out and took a full job working as a nurse and lived on her own in the same city. She went to work everyday and came home to an empty apartment, day in and day out. It was the same until Thomas came along, a young journalist who came in for a broken leg at the hospital she worked at. Since that day, it instantly clicked and both began to see each other regularly. Thomas moved in with Charlene and dated for about two years, finally sealing it with a big, extravagant marriage next year. Everything about them was relatively normal for a young couple, going off to work and coming home for dinner and night time kisses. This continued on until the outbreak, where Charlene woke up on her own that day to her husband feasting on a corpse on the kitchen floor. It if it wasn’t for the knife set on the counter, she would easily have been dead. Not that that mattered, for young Charlene killed her husband with her own hands, something that haunts her every day. She took herself out and traveled as far as she could go, even checking on her parents, who overdosed on their bed together clutching a family photo, and her brother Florian, which was nowhere to be found.


Personality:


Charlene is a calm person. Her father was narcissistic, arrogant, and had the shortest temper known to man, so no one in the household was ever allowed to say much. No matter what it was, they were in the wrong, and he was right, so she quickly learned to keep her mouth shut around him. Since Charlene is so reserved and disciplined, she is also very observant, always keying in on little details. Her normal peers would never bother to approach her, let alone speak to her, so she has had all the time in the world to sit back and watch people. Reading someone's body language and the fluctuations in the tone of their voice has practically become second nature to her. Now she isn’t loose promises tied to tumbleweeds. Her weighted words bound to anchors, thrown where it’s left and bearing its rust until someone takes her hand and guides her away. Plucking her heartstrings will make her dance in the palm of your hands and there isn’t much that’ll stop her besides a harsh wake-up call, which can quickly transform her into a weeping puddle bent on resolving the situation. Once her boo-boo’s are mended, it’s likely that she’ll make the same mistakes again. She’s a caretaker, foremost, and a storyteller and a kind shelter from whirlwinds and storms with a flair for expressing herself in shameless ways. She’s a bleeding heart with a set of wobbling legs. There’s always room for one more: one more beggar, one more criminal begging for repentance, one more mistake. There’s always room for forgiveness. She does not believe that Humanity is unkind, only lost. Shouldering the responsibility to steer Humanity in the right direction has never been an unwanted duty. It gives her hope. The possibility of a peaceful future drives her forward, relentlessly, and recklessly. Although quiet at first, if you are able to open her rib cage and see how she actually is, she might jump on you faster than you can believe.


Nationality: Austrian





Residency: Chicago, Illinois at the beginning but managed to travel as far as she could.





Gear: Knapsack filled with couple bottles of water, 3 medium bags of dried food, 10 M1911 magazines, flashlight, 2 pairs of jeans, 2 shirts, a sweatshirt, journal, first aid kid ( gauze, bandages, alcohol ), sewing kit, and a book by the famous Shakespeare.





Relationships/Family: Sebastian and Anelie ( Father & Mother, Deceased ), Florian ( Brother, Deceased ), Thomas ( Fiance, Deceased )





Traveling Companions: Zane and Ixiss





Charlene kept quiet while the other two spoke, glancing between them occasionally as her thoughts drifted off here and there. She knew she should talk more often, voice her opinion in times of need, but felt it wasn't her right for she couldn't run around wielding a pistol saving the day. She sighed, she had a pistol in her possession that she had no clue how to use. Great, she was as worthless as the girl that the two men left behind. The girl! Charlene gasped to herself and picked up her knapsack to throw it over her shoulder, sauntering over the the last tent to peer in. She spotted Julia underneath a small mound of blankets, fast asleep. "Poor child." she whispered, looking back at the other two before giving the young girl a soft shake. "Hey," the woman cooed, trying her best not to appear frightening. "Wake up." Julia awoke with a soft jolt and sat up, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with small fingers. "Where's Sawyer?" she whispered. Charlene frowned, not wanting to be the one who broke it to her, feeling a pit forming in her chest from sadness.

 

[ImjustLyra]

Character Name - Alison Wagner








Age - 19








Clothing - Yellow Bio-hazard shirt and black shorts








Appearance -


View attachment 7537








Weapons - Doubled edged sword, Starbucks shield





Biography - Alison was an honor student before the outbreak hit. She never missed a class and was always on time. Her family was...well...a normal family. Her parents were happily married and never really fought, there was always food on the table and roof over their heads. Alison also had a younger, pestering brother named Jacob. She loved him with every fiber of her being, being very close to Jacob. At home her family saw her as a very quiet and innocent 17 year old...but when she went over to her Uncle Mark's house...she was a very different person. Mark is a self defense/martial arts teacher. Alison was taking lessons form her Uncle Mark as a way to blow off the stresses of being a picture perfect student.


Once the outbreak hit...Alison's family was hit hard. First her mother had gotten sick...then her father...and finally...Jacob. Alison was faced with a heart wrenching decision...let her family suffer or kill them. When her own mother tried to kill her, she did what she had to, killing all three of her family members. Now her and her Uncle have been separated... and she is searching to find him, hoping he was still alive.








Personality - Alison is kinda quiet and likes to keep to herself. She tends to find herself listening to music and thinking of her family. She may be slightly shy but she does not hold back when she has to kill one of the walking dead.








Nationality - Irish/Italian








Residency - Huston, Texas








Gear - Double edged sword, a shield made out of a Starbucks sign, MP3 player her family gave her for her birthday, old flip cell phone she hardly uses but keeps on her just in case her Uncle calls her.








Relationships/Family- Robert Wagner-Father-43 (dead) Heather Wagner-Mother-41 (dead) Jacob Wagner-brother-7 (dead) Mark Wagner-Uncle-46 (unknown)








Traveling Companions- Shark(family dog)-half wolf half dog-7 View attachment 7535


____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


The sun slowly started to rise, the rays of sunlight peeking through the boarded up windows. A young girl by the name of Alison sat on the floor, her back pressed up against the wall. Across her lap laid her best friend...Shark, a 7 year old wolf dog. The rays of sunlight slowly seeped into the room and shinned against her face. Alison shut her eyes tight before she slowly opened them, squinting at the bright light. Sighing she lifted her hand rubbing her tired struck eye before she stretched her tired form. With a yawn she lowered her hand upon Shark's head, scratching between his ears. The wolf-dogs tail started to wag back and forth as he awoke. Alison smiled and laughed a bit hugging his neck. "Good Morning, Shark." The wolf-dog looked up to his owner, his tail still wagging though he never barked. Shark was not stupid..he had learned that if they made loud noises the walkers would come after his girl. Alison smiled and patted his head gently telling him to stand up. She stood herself and walked over to the boarded up window, peeking through the cracks. Her eyes narrowed slightly watching the walkers roam the streets mindlessly.

 

[Dino]

"Alright" Bradley replied simply. He sighed. It seemed Sawyer didn't want to talk about it so they walked along in silence. No walkers around the tree line's made it seem this so called infection had never touched this part of the world until you woke up and smelled the rotting air. He looked around once more the breeze pushing the branches of the trees causing the leafs to rustle together making a faint noise you could only just here and again the ground was muddy and your boots would slurp every time they came off the ground. (Sorry about the short post)

 

[MissOutlaw]

Sawyer and Brad reached the north side of the city, nearing where his bag was. Neither one had spoke much on the way there and for Sawyer that was fine. He wasn't too sure about Bradley though. He knew sooner or later he'd have to talk his head off for about an hour. But as of lately, he seemed pretty mute. Maybe it was cause of all the tention between the group they left or perhaphs he caught on that Sawyer was getting annoyed with his constant chatter. Either way he didn't really care, it was nice and quiet. For once it wasn't in a eerrie manner. But there was one sound that had been getting Sawyer to turn his head back every now and again. There were soft russles and sounds of footsteps. They were pretty quiet and if it wasn't for Sawyers habit of never letting his guard down he wouldn't have heard it. Stopping he stood still, his body mimicing stone. Then he called out loud so the person following could hear, "You gonna come out or watch our back sides the whole way to the highway?" His brow arched and his head cocked back, glaring over in the direction of the sound. He knew who it was and this time he wasn't going to be able to follow undetected. The kid from the camp was following them again. If he was going to be apart of the group he'd have to learn to use that gun of his. Otherwise Sawyer wouldn't let him have it. Sneering he growled, "If you don't come out I drag you out by you're ass." Eventually he came into veiw and Sawyer snorted letting his lip raise slightly, "Thats better. Once we find some clear ground...I'll teach you how to peroperly shoot that thing. You're no good to me if you ain't shootin' right. I don't need you covering us if theres a chance you're bullets will graze us." He then turned back to Bradley and the two older men continued to walk along, the boy following close behind them.


(Hope thats ok Wingal, just wanted to get you're character into the group sooner. ^^ If not I can always edit it. Just lemme know and it shall be taken care of! =3)

 

[xxZANE]

Zane walked back to camp and looked over at the little girl. He honestly didn't know how long they would survive with her. He hated to admit it but it was only a matter of time. She was too young, and the only way to survive with her is to not get involved with the dead. But who could do that? They were everywhere. He didn't care much for the child, But it seemed Charlene did. He watched at Charlene as she comforted the child like it if were her own child. In his mind he knew Charlene could be a problem too, She was too soft. He had seen her gun but hadn't seen her use it. Maybe she didn't know how. He should probably have Ixiss give her a few pointers sometime. He walked off towards the road. "Pick up everything you can and meet me by the road when you are done.. We can decide where to go from there.." he said to both of then and nodded at Ixiss. His face expressionless, his hands steady and his mind focused he set off towards the road to see if things were clear once again. In a world like this nothing was ever clear. you had to be sure.


_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


James rode his bike between the cars slowly, It was slowing him down. He sighed and got off pushing the bike to the ground "**** it, It didn't have much gas anyway" he boasted and continued walking, his bag on his shoulder and his bat in his hand. He looked around, Everything seemed clear and untouched by infection. As he walked by the cars he noticed there were some of the living dead inside a few, stuck in there it seemed when they were infected. There was fog in the window from the body's decaying. He furrowed his nose a bit and smirked, tapping on a minivans glass at the Dead. "you poor stinky ugly piece of shit.." he smirked "Doesn't look like you were that pretty when you were alive in the first place" he gave out a laugh noticing it was a woman, half of her face was peeling off, tendons handing from her cheek bones and maggots crawling into her eye. He shook his head and continued walking as the groans of the muffled dead woman disappeared in the background inside of the vehicle. He took in a deep breath, it smelled like rotting flesh and rain. He was used to the smell by now, and in a insane type of way, he liked it. It made him feel alive. He gave a grin as he continued down the road, jumping up onto the stone ledge that devided the two way traffic highway. and just walked.

 

[CaterpilAli]

Character Name - John Miller


Age - 52


Clothing - sleep rumpled, white button up shirt, a faded and worn out black leather jacket, faded blue jeans, steel toed work boots


Picture(If any) - View attachment 7544


Weapons(Total of 2 Including Melee)- 9mm Glock, standard hunting knife with serated edging towards the hilt of the blade.


Nationality- Latino-American


Residency - New york


Bio- his father, an american businessman, and his mother, a latin beauty from mexico, moved to california when he was five. He stayed there all his life until he joined the police force and moved to NewYork. There he climbed the ranks to become captain of the special forces unit, where he took Ixiss under his wing. She was like a daughter to him, and as he didn't have any children of his own, shebecame practically family. His wife, Lucille, had ovarian cancer which started as a cist on her ovaries when she was twenty four,which later caused her death at the age of forty seven. John delved into his work more and more until Ixiss began to draw him out, refusing to let the man that had trained her fade away into nothing.


Relationships/Family- He's Ixiss' mentor and a father figure. His wife passed away three years ago. They were married twenty six years


Who are you traveling with: No one currently


Character Name -Ginger


Age - 22


Clothing - Black leather half corset top that leaves the lower half of her torso exposed, tight bike pant type shorts, fishnet stockings to the top of the thigh, knee high boots with silver buckles, a denim grey jacket, black leather gloves.


Picture(If any) - View attachment 7545(minus the pointed ears)


Weapons(Total of 2 Including Melee)- Chainsaw, sawnoff shotgun


Nationality - British


Residency - Newyork


Bio - Ginger began life in london, with her parents Jacinta and Moris Claude, with the name Charlotte Marie Claude. She grew up being teased for her name, and hating her parents for it. She had a good life despite all that. When she hit highschoolshe started introducing herself as Ginger. Nothing more nothing less.She refused to answer to anything but that name. At aged eighteen shelegally changed it to Ginger and never regretted it. She moved to America at twenty, and began her life at the bottom of society. When she had no chance at a decent job she fell into prostitution, obtaining her escort liscense. She became aware of the apocolypse when her client, a regular of hers, became very agressive and rabid.He attacked her and she attacked him with the small marble centrepiece on the table.


Relationships/Family- Her parents are still in London as far as she can recall. She has no boyfriend, due to her line of work.


Who are you traveling with: No one currently


~~


The cries of the fallen echoed in the streets as Miller tugged the door of his beat up station wagon shut. It silenced some of the noises, a welcome silence. The cries of the infected were not ones that he wanted to hear. He hated what had become of this world. It was not his world anymore. His memory flashed back to the time when the only thing he'd needed his gun for excessively dangerous criminals. Those days were long gone now. Now they were using bullets on normal people.. only these people were infected. They were dead already. He had to remind himself of the danger and the truth of his thoughts as a little girl ran up to the car, bashing on the window, snapping and snarling at him through the class, banging her undead face against the barrier. He turned the engine on and hightailed it out of there, the results of his looting left in his boot.





~


Yawning and stretching, Ginger opened her eyes and frowned, not seeing her own belongings and trying to remember where she was. Why wasn't she in her own loft? Oh, right. It was the end of the world. She'd forgotten about that. She looked around the room she was in. It was full of old sports posters, and the shelf to her left was lined with old soccer trophies. Whoever had lived their had been serious about their sports. Shifting to the edge of the bed, she swung her legs over the side and pulled her boots on over the fishnets. A bright flash of red caught her eye and she pulled out a magazine from under the bed. Playboy. She smirked. That made much more sense to her. She had the feeling that she would have gotten along with whoever lived there before. Now the kid was probably long dead. Such a waste. Standing up, she spotted a photo frame on the shelf. A teen, with short, sandy hair and bright green eyes smiled out at her in a blue jersey. He held one of the Trophies. She smiled sadly. He was cute. Too bad he was dead.





~~


Ixiss flashed him an odd look, not liking taking orders from him. She was not his subordinate. She would go along with whatever she could for the time being. She was not one to forget her place easily, and she felt herself as equal as the man. She sighed, standing up and stretching. 'I was mostly set last night. I never leave anything unattended before sleep.' She said simply, beginning to take down her tent. She figured they could use one occasionally. 'Shove this in that bag of yours.' She said, tossing the now rolled up calico to Zane before turning to Charlene. 'You ready to bounce, or do we need to wait a while?' She asked, swinging her bag onto her shoulders as she spoke. It was heavier now, having stocked it with food, but she would manage. She would have to. God only knew when they would find more supplies.

 

[Wingal]

Nash huffed watching the back of both the older men's head as the traveled to who knows where. "This guy was apparently going to teach him how to use his gun right, but I still don't know how I was going to use this thing any better". "Maybe he could show you how to use that silencer you've been keeping for no reason his subconscious chimed in again unannounced which made him sigh. It was always worth a shot but the man was always so negative or maybe a better word would be calculating and a little confusing. After a mental debate he finally chimed up from behind the two men "Do one of you know how to equip a silencer" he asked bracing himself next for whatever comeback they had under there sleeves.

 

[Charlene]

As usual, Charlene was about to burst into tears just for the little girl, who was shaken up by the fact of Sawyer missing. She scooped her up into her arms and gave her a soft hug before they had to depart. "He'll be back, okay? We have to go." she whispered, smiling. "I promise you, just stick with me and you'll be alright." Julia was on the verge of the tears as well, and crawled out of the tent before receiving the love from Charlene. She couldn't help but bury her small face into the motherly embrace, something she's been deprived of for quite some time. The brunette glanced over at Ixiss, who was anxious to leave just like Zane. "Oh, we're ready." she spoke up, standing back onto her feet and taking Julia's hand. The two of them began walking in silence after Zane, having no idea what danger they were going to be facing in a matter of time.

 

[ImjustLyra]

Alison turned from the window to find Shark right behind her, his tail wagging slowly. She chuckled softly and patted his head as she walked past him to gather her things. "You're such a good boy, Shark." She said in a soft voice as she bent down, grabbing her sword and shield. With a grunt she placed them on her back, the shield first then sliding the sword behind it. Alison turned on her heels and looked to Shark with a grin. "Are you ready boy?" She asked crouching down and holding out her hands. The wolf dog only wagged his tail faster as he trotted over to his owner. The young girl smiled and hugged her dog before she stood up and headed for the back door. As she placed her right hand on the door knob, her left fell back, telling Shark to stay put. The obedient canine stopped dead in his tracks and planted his haunches on the ground, his sharp blue eyes locked on his master. Slowly Alison turned the knob and pushed the door open, peering her head outside. The alley was filled with dumped over trash cans, garbage spilling out of them. Rats scampered from pile to pile picking out what they favored and tossing aside what they didn't. The fowl odor of death filled the air and slowly made its way into Alison's nose causing her to make a face. With a sigh she looked left then right to make sure there were no walkers around before she called Shark over. The girl looked back over her shoulder to find her loving dog still sitting there, his tail curled around his paws as he waited patiently. Alison smiled softly and waved her hand for him to come, the coast being clear. With out a sound the wolf dog stood up and trotted over towards his master, his tail swaying behind him. Alison patted him on the head before stepping out of the abandoned house. The two walked through the alley as quietly as they could for they didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. Their pace slowed as they reached a corner, Alison's hand falling back, once again telling her companion to stay where he was. As quiet as she could Alison drew her sword, the sound of a walker eating just around the bend. She glanced back to Shark as he sat differently this time. His ears were pinned back and he slightly sat forward, ready to help his master at any moment. Alison let out a long breath before she turned the corner. Silent as a shadow lurking at its feet, she swung for its head, hearing the skull crack violently as it connected. The young girl smirked slightly watching the walker slump over. Though her delight turned to fear quickly as she caught glimpse of where her sword ended up...against the wall. She didn't hear it before for she was too focused on killing the walker, but her sword had smacked against the wall letting out a loud 'ping!' Shark growled and quickly ran over to his masters side, his ears pinned back as he looked up at her as if yelling at her. Alison laughed a little bit looking at the dog's expression. She felt like she was being yelled at by her father. Her smile faded slowly though as the sound of walkers running towards them filled the air. Shark still growled slightly at her then turned tail, running from the sound. Alison followed suit, knowing he could tell which way they were coming from. Shark turned the other corner and darted out into the street but skid to a stop with a small yelp. The young girls eyes grew wide as the thought of her dog being ripped away from her filled her mind. "Shark!" She called out turning the corner. She was relived to see he was fine...but fear struken. Alison slowly stepped out form around the corner to see a mob of walkers heading their way. "Shit..." She muttered under her breath and quickly she looked down to the wolf dog. "Shark!" She said sternly pointing out and up slightly with her sword. She wolf dog gave a low bark, like he understood what she wanted, and quickly ran off jumping up onto cars to get to high ground. Alison smiled to herself seeing her companion was safe and slowly turned back to the rushing mob. With her sword in her right and and her shield across her left arm, she braced herself for the attack.

 

[Dino]

Bradley turned his head as the boy emerged from the tree. He listened to his remarks on a gun and a smirk crossed his face when the boy didn't know how to attach a silencer. Once sawyer started walking away Bradley walked in unison with him. ONce they reached a tree he watched as Sawyer climbed it returning down with a back pack. He looked at it razing an eyebrow behind his gas mask. He had realised a while back that Sawyer did not find comfort in conversation (Sorry for the short post)

 

[MissOutlaw]

Strider Biography, Main Character+Post

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider.jpg

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider.jpg

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider.jpg


Character Name

- Strider (doesn't remember his real name)




Age

- 23




Clothing

- Thick camo colored jacket, flexable leather green gloves, black half sleeve undershirt, gun holdster, thick brown leather belt with hip holdster, blue gray blue jeans, thigh ammo holdster, metal plated knee pads and steeltoe leather boots.




Appearence

-

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Letsrumble.jpghttp://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Letsrumble.jpg

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Letsrumble.jpg




http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-LongingGaze.jpghttp://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-LongingGaze.jpg

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-LongingGaze.jpg




http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Readysetgo.jpghttp://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Readysetgo.jpg

http://s837.photobucket.com/albums/zz299/DevilSin8097/?action=view&current=Strider-Readysetgo.jpg





Weapons

- Glock 20 Model and Steel disassembling Bow Stick (Muay Thai tought him to use this effectively)




Biography

- Strider had woken up in a hospital room with no one around and no one to claim him. On his medical charts it told him that he was in an accident, hit with blunt trama weapon. The rest was unreadable due to blood being splattered all over the chart. He couldn't even get a good look at his own name. When his first encounter with the dead came it was a total and complete shock to him. Not sure how it happened of when but he quickly found out that dead people don't always

stay

dead. Strider knews only a few things about himself and the things he knows has been keeping him alive. He is an expert in Parkour, Muay Thai and Kickboxing. When he is under attack his body goes into an instinctive mode, utalizing his combat skills. Strider doesn't seem to show fear when he gets in range of a Zombie, his technique demanding close combat. It seems to motivate him even more to strike harder and faster when they do, hurrling far from him. If all else fails he runs and when he does whatever hoard was chasing him has no chance of catching him then. Parkour or Free Running, is a training discipline focused on overcoming obstacles, involving moving from point A to point B in the fastest and most efficient way possible. It combines a variety of movements like running, climbing, swinging, vaulting, leaping, flipping and rolling. Strider uses this to up him momentum in battle or flee a situtation thats gotten far out of hand. On top of being highly efficient in combat he is also a well trained mechanic and welder.


He wonders this new found world to find out what has happened, if there is any place safe and to find out who he was...




Personality




Strider has a good attitude and is quite possitive about things. Because of his memory loss he isn't tainted by past experiences, making him easy to get along with. However his kindness shouldn't be veiwed as a weakness. His attitude may never turn cold or harsh but his self respect won't allow much room for insult. Fighting with other humans would be the last thing on his list he'd want to do but if a fellow team mate has become difficult or dangerous he is more then willing to 'knock' some friendly since into them.




Nationality

- Irish and German




Residency

- New York City




Gear

- Messager Bag, several water bottles, energy drinks, tools, 4 quarts of oil, rope, swiss army knife, books, MP3 Player, Steeltoe boots, Metal plated knee pads, power bars and a flash light.




Relationships/Family

- Doesn't remember




Traveling Companions

- None




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Sawyer glanced over at the boy arching a brow, "A silencer eh? We'll worry 'bout fixing yer gun up in a few. After that we'll set up some where and do some target practice." He then stood in front of the tree and placed on hand at the hip and the other scratching the back of his head, "Well lookie here, its still there." With a smuggly clever smirk he pulled himself up and grabbed the duffle bag, yanking it down with him. Opening it up he checked to see if everything was there before empting his smaller bag into that one. Looking threw in he came to a harsh relisation, there wasn't enough food to feed them all. Sawyer had been surviving on MREs for the mounths that have passed so not eating for a few days was managable. But there were two people now, one of them which he knew wouldn't last a day without. Scuffing he growled a bit, "Well guess what..." Silver seemed to answer him, his tone questioning. Raking a rough hand through his awburn hair he snorted, "We ain't got enough food to last us for the next two days. Alone it would've been fine but I don't have enough to feed you both. So take a guess where we're going?" Silver remarked again, guessing right. Sawyer nodded pointing back at the city they had narrowly escaped before, "You got that right, back into the belly of the beast. Theres a market not far from this exit, if we get in and out we'll be gold." Turning from his possition he faced the road ahead tilting his head back to look at the two, "You ready?"




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Looking down at the world blow, rottened and decayed, the veiw was splendidly layed out like a blue print. Easy to see, read, veiw, measure. From high above the worlds darkness, its foul scent didn't reach. Standing a top of these buildings stood a figure, watching. His body was lean, built and toned. Ready, fierce and capable he lept from the roof top, his body coiling into a ball, flipping round. His feet landed firmly on the other roof top, his pace never stopping. A burst of energy blasted through his system, fueling this mans drive to run. Again he rose up to the challenge, jumping between the spaces. His body dropped and rolled, and again he was back on his feet. His breath was clam and cool, his lungs used to this intense training. It felt good, pure, free to be like this. With the wind under him, whipping past his body he didn't know anything truer. It felt as close as flying and for those few sweet moments he had lunged, he was soaring. His body skid to a hault, breath came out in a huff. Looking down at a lower level building he thought,

Can I make it?

His thought lingered a moment and he jumped,

Yes, I got this.

The free fall was amazing, his body plummeting to the ground. And when he met the rough embrace of the roof top he rolled, the fall being broken. His hand reached back for a bottle of water, spinning the cap off hastely. He chugged it down and gasped with a 'ahhhhhh' capping it. It slipped back into his bag and he cockly smiled, "Just twelve more to go!" Taking off again he dashed for the edge, never once thinking twice.

 

[xxZANE]

Zane sighed grabbing the tent and smirked, shaking his head. "Your tough, huh Ixiss?" He said, retorically. He squeezed the tent together tightly and tied it stuffing it into his bag, putting it on his back. He watched her for a moment a smirk on his face and walked off into the street climbing up onto a minivan turned over in the highway, he looked up the highway to heck if the coast was clear. To his surprise everything was clear, at least for now. He sat down indian style on the van and stared down the highway a sharp exhale escaping his lips. His head was ringing. It had been ringing for a while. His head was full of memories, old memories, new memories and painfull ones. In the back of his mind a small voice crept in. Why are you being such a little B**ch about this, zane?. He shook his head "Im not.." he mummbled. You know everything is going to go downhill from here.. It continued, the voice sounding low and scratchy. "We can survive.." Zane whispered touching his face, his hands traveling to his full head of hair, he gripped it between his clentched fingers tugging slightly. Oh its no use.. YOU can survive.. They cant, and you going to get them killed. It mocked, laughing even. His breath sharpened and he stood with a grunt "SHUT UP!" he yelled through gritted teeth and it stopped. The voice just dissappeared. He looked around and his hands begung to shake. Was he going crazy? His heart was beating sharply against his chest moving him even. He cleared his throat and jumped down. What the hell was that about? Was he losing his mind? Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder Oh zane.. the person stood behind him its body moving like a mirage or waves of heat newly spewing from a stove. "You..." Zanes words caught in his throat.


Yeah..The person touched his face and smirked .You are all going to die.It laughed running towards him, and in a split second through him dissapearing, His body seemingly melting into the sky like air. Zane paused his heart almost stopping. "....W-What.." He couldn't talk He was seeing things. His head was playing games with him. He was a broken ex soldier. What could be expected. He slightly leaned against the Van, his hand pressing up against the metal, his fingertips feeling the cold rush through them from the cold metal. "Ch-Charles?" He spewed out he couldn't believe it. His dead brother had just appeared to him. He really was going insane. This world was pushing him to his limits. And it had just begun. The fight to regain his sanity. He stood up straight and wiped his face, trying to wipe the redness and panic away from his expression, trying to become composed again. "what is going on..with me..?" He thought closing his eyes for a moment and quickly regaining his straight posture. "We need to leave..." he said softly looking back at the others. Hoping no one had seen his battle just then.


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James pushed his way through the forest a few feet from the highway getting to a small cabin, enough for one person to live. It was eerie and destroyed on the outside. The trees fallen over onto it almost covering it to the point of invisibility under the branches. He smirked looking at the two dead zombies hanging from the door lifeless. He was a hunter, and it showed. The lifeless bodies hung there, no doubt having been killed by him. He swung the door open and walked in. Everything was dusty and rusted over, empty. The cabin wasn't clean or free of pestilence. It was invaded by a small pool of roaches roaming around dead flesh on the floor and small centipedes climbing the walls. He walked over to a small bed in the corner of the room, untidy and unfit for anyone to lay on. He smirked and threw his bag down on it pulling out a can of fruits he had found at the gas station a few miles back. Seemed like this was the place he hung out in while close the area. He had made it his home. From the ceiling dangled corpses arms and legs like trophies of the killing. He smirked and pushed passed them sitting on the lonesome chair on the side of the room. "Well then.. home sweet garbage" he opened the lid and dipped his head back pushing as much of the fruit and juice into his mouth. As he chewed he lit a candle with a match box he had found a few weeks back. He sighed and cleared his throat. "I should probably not get comfy and head out to find somewhere else.." he talked to himself looking around, as the roaches scattered from his floor when he threw the empty fruit can at them. He smirked and got up "Yep.." he coughed a bit and walked over to his bag "F**k this place...Smells like pig shi* anyway" grabbing his bag he kicked the door from the inside, the dead bodies swinging with the door as it opened. "I need to move on" he laughed walking with a slight bowl leggedness to him and walked out of the woods again. It was still pretty early in the morning so he had plenty of time to figure out his next stop.

 

[CaterpilAli]

Ixiss noted Zane's actions, frowning slightly. Was he okay? She watched as he climbed to the top of the vehicle and almost seemed to be conversing with himself. Again she wondered if he was okay. Her gaze followed his hand movements, and she caught the strains of hisn voice on the wind. He was losing it, he had to be. They couldn't have him losing his marbles now. She couldn't protect Charlene, the kid AND Zane. It just wasn't possible. She watched as he stood up, a shout cutting through the dead silent atmosphere. He stood for a while, and she watched. Should she intervene? She didn't know. Her hands moved to the gun in her holster. She needed to find somewhere to get some more ammo. She had to be running low by now. As he came back down she saw the look of worry on his face. 'Zane.. if you can't keep it together..' She trailed off, her hands lingering on the weapon beneath her fingers gently. It was difficult to inform him of her decisions. 'I don't want to have to make a decision for the safety of the others.' She said after a moment, her gaze meeting and locking with his, burning with intensity. She glanced over at Charlene and Julia, and pursed her lips. 'If you can't focus for yourself, do it for them. That kid deserves a chance at life. And Charlene.. while I may not agree with her part in this, she doesn't have any reason to be killed by a simple mistake.' She said in a low voice, so that they couldn't hear her words.





~


Get out. Get out of the city. Get as far from the trouble as possible, John Miller thought to himself as he drove, trying to avoid the more inhabited streets. The moans and grunts of the dead surrouned him as he sped down some treets and crawled past hordes at incredibly slow speeds on others. he kept an eye out for anything that would attack him. So far there were just walkers. Nothing incredibly dangerous. He also looked out for survivors. If he could find anyone, anyone at all that was still alive and not infected, he would help them without hesitation. After the proof that they weren't infected of course. He wondered of his squad. Were they still alive? He loved his job, while he also hated it. At least he hadn't had the job of informing people of the deaths of their loved ones. That would have been a terrible job to have, he thought as he drove. As he reached a strangely empty area, the car began to splutter and die. The engine stopped. He groaned and climbed out of the vehicle, popping the hood easily and peering down at the wires. The metal almost burnt his hands and he flinched back, cursing. 'Damn engines.. always faulty till the very end.' He muttered, pulling off his beaten jacket and using it to lean on over the engine and inner workings of the car. He fiddled with some of the wires, moved to the driver's side and tried to turn the engine over, but to no avail. It coughed, spluttered, and died again. 'Damn it.. Alright. let's try again.' He muttered, toying with the engine some more. It made a loud roaring sound when he turned the engine again and backfired loudly. He froze. He listened. Then he heard the sounds he'd been dreading. Walkers. And a lot of them. They must have been in the buildings. He grabbed what he could out of the car, including his weapons from the back seat and a bag full of supplies and extra ammo, and he ran, just as the creatures began to fill the street. He may have been close to retirement, but Miller had kept in good enough shape to outrun a few of the laggy infected, but by the time he thought he might be in the clear he was clutching his side.


Just when he thought he'd finally made it in the clear, a girl and her dog ran out into the street, bringing with her a horde of her own little 'friends'. he cursed. he was too old for this shit. He watched as the dog jumped up onto the top of a car and this strange girl, who couldn't be more than seventeen, squared herself to meet the horde with nothing but a sword and a battered old shield with the word 'starbucks' scrawled across it in big letters around the edges. He moved over to her, catching his breath. 'You there, kid, what are you doing? Are you insane?' He demanded, weezing slightly as he pulled out his gun. 'Get out of here, Climb up the fire escape or something.' He said in a gruff, breathless tone. He wouldn't stand by as an innocent kid was slaughtered.





~~


The streets were empty as she, (being Ginger), walked along in the shadow of the buildings. She kept a close eye out for the infected, but so far had seen nothing. That wasn't right... surely they should be littering the streets by now? Admittedly the population wasnt as high in the morning as it was during the night, but it was still pretty dangerous to be walking around. She only had a shotgun with her that she barely even knew how to use, and a blunt pocket knife at the moment. She was hoping to find something a little more affective later on. Her stomach growled as she approached a gas station, and she bit her lip. She hadn't eaten in a few days, not properly. She entered the place, grabbing as much as she could and shoving it in a napsack she'd nabbed from the last place she'd stayed at. As she did so, her gaze fell upon a chainsaw lying behind the counter. Now there was a dangerous weapon indeed. She thought with a slightly sadistic smile as she picked it up and checked the fuel. It was still full. Excellent. She gave the chord a reckless tug and it roared to life, the sound echoing through the area. A horde that stood around nearby turned in her direction. She could see them through the open windows of the shopfront. 'Oh F*ck.'

 

[Wingal]

Nash listened to both mens offer to help him at a more convient place"Alright seems I can ask questions without being assaulted with insults and sly comments " he thought watching sawyer take the duffel bag down from the tree. Watching the man mess with everything made Nash worried enough until he said the expected words "Were going back to the market". Now Nash knew they had to go back into the city with their supplies but with everything thats happend so far it didn't look as if it was gonna be a walk in the park. Giving a low grunt he reached into his bag pulling out the pair of ice picks he brought in these kinds of situations to avoid a lot of noise. He then looked to the other two quickly knowing they all liked to most likely use big machetes that made Nash's weapon look like a toothpick "Neither of you comment on these things" he said before looking back at the city fear already to kick back on again.

 

[Charlene]

Charlene stepped carefully, her long black boots clicking faintly with each casual step she took. Her right arm swaying while her fingers were locked with Julia's small ones, who was silent as well, taking in her surroundings like a sponge. She would walk and glance at each thing the two of them passed, and then stop quickly before plucking a long piece of grass or flower to inspect before moving on. Her large eyes gazed at the nature between her finger tips she gathered and would immediately drop it to pick a few more. Even though the apocalypse occurred, her mind was still being fueled by young curiosity, something that was thankfully still intact of her disposition. The canvas above them was just getting finished with the spread of orange and pink across the horizon like a thin layer of silk, cocooning the clouds as the faint orange trickled to a light blue. The day was just unraveling and the four of them were on the move, departing to yet another spot they were going to have to move from anyway. This upset the woman a tad, the rapid change constantly doing on her soft personality and physical composure. She was used to settling down for large periods of time and not having to worry about anything, but that was far from being of the norm now. It was either move constantly, or stay and be eaten alive. The brunette and child soon approached Zane and Ixiss, where the female was discussing something very peculiar with the male in a low voice. Although, not being able to hear, she still became a little uncomfortable. Charlene furrowed her brows in slight disorientation and bit the inside of her lip, bringing her ocean pools to Zane who appeared a bit worn. She was worried about him, considering they haven't properly conversed since that kiss. "Is everything.. alright?" she spoke up, confusion prickling in her soft words. "I mean, I'm sorry if it's none of my business.." she added hastily, glancing between the two.

 

[ImjustLyra]

Alison felt the leather of the shield straps tighten against her skin as one of the infected rushed towards her collapsing against the shield as she thrust it forward into its jaw, it;s mouth biting into the cold steel breaking its yellow rotted teeth. It fell to the ground and she took the opportunity to stomp its face in, bashing its skull to pieces watching it's brain ooze out like paint from a tube. She swung her shield again hitting another, throwing it to the side against a few of them heading past her towards the man behind her. She swing her sword forward, the tip penetrating the skull of an infected woman who's face had already been through battle it seemed. With held her eye hanging out of the socket like a ball on a string. She slashed the head across watching it split in two and in seconds it dropped to the ground. Shark's ears pinned back as he gave a small whine, watching his master fight off the living dead. He paced back and forth atop the bus he stood on, wanting to help his girl. The hoard was beginning to overwhelm them. She groaned and ran back calling her furry companion to her side as the turned their heels to head past the man, grabbing his arm. "Run!" Shark growled low and quickly jumped off the bus, running to his girls side. His blue eyes narrowed at the man she was dragging along, but for now that would have to wait. She grabbed the man and headed towards the market, turning a sharp corner down an alleyway. Running ahead of him, Alison slammed her shield into 3 walkers heading towards them in the alley. She hadn't killed them, just knocked them down. but it was enough to get away. She looked to her side, her dog always next to her looking back occasionally at the man, who had been wheezing from running. She knew he wouldn't make it if they didn't take a small brake. She turned left at another corner, Everything clear and the market in plain sight. She ducked down a bit behind a trashcan seeing someone out of the corner of her eye, around that area. "More survivors?" she looked back at the man "Who are you?"

 

[Dino]

Bradley frowned as the news of Hardly any food had struck home he himself had no food on him to provide to anyone of them any more including himself. They had trudged along the muddy grass until they had reached 'Perimeter' Of the city within. Now was the time to keep their wits about them and one of those moments where you shouldn't dare speak unless it was a hundred percent necessary. Only hearing quite groans as he walked in but eventually there groans disappeared and thank god for that as he could not bare the noise these god forsaken Creatures. He would look to his left and his right to see smashed and destroyed buildings burned out cars and bodies laying across the streets. This was ofcourse a sight most survivors had to get used to and most normally would need to adjust to the smell but luckily for him he had his mask. That's one thing that kept him occupied he guessed, thinking about all the positive things about now for him, he was a survivor and that was all that was needed to remind him to think himself lucky. He continued walking till he heard groans footprints aswell faster footprints then the god damn walkers. The groans also growing in noise as well as the foot steps. He tightened his grip on his gun and looked to his left to find a few zombies he knew that wasn't all of them just by the amount of groaning he could hear. He tapped Sawyer on the shoulder and pointed to the walkers. "We've got company"

 

[MissOutlaw]

The kid didn't seem to excited to head in but Silver looked pretty ready. Sawyer puffed out a few smokey breaths as he strode towards the city. That silencer will do well here but finding a place to set up and be safe would be the tricky part. Plus Sawyer didn't think he could trust the kids shot. For all he knew that head shot might have just been a fluke. Did he really want to ride their survival on a kid that was no older then his teens and struggling to carry his gun? He mentally shook the thought from his head. Hell no.. This was going to be a rough ride and Sawyer didn't need any 'ideas' making it worse. They narrowly escaped last time, would they be so lucky again? Throwing the duffle bag strap on his shoulder Sawyer passed the several cars that were sprawled through out the highway in. It was quiet between the three, neither one of them saying much, reasons different from each other. Cocking his gun back he started to reload, getting himself a fresh clip. The other two checked their weapons, Silver being only the other one to reload. The kid most likely had a full clip, not using the gun much. If the boy wanted to stay alive, he'd be smart and find a different firearm. Everyone knew what happened to Snipers when an enemy got too close and it would all be the same here. Just the enemies that took you out did it slow, eating your remains while you screamed bloody murder. Sawyer partly started to miss the War, but then again at least the Zombies were up front about what they were. You always knew what to expect out of them, humans however were a whole other story.


When they entered Sawyer slipped in low, hiding his form behind a stack of clashed cars. Waving both Nash and Silver in he clung close to the metal, gazing over the car. It was silent...something that was odd for a place such as this. His head snapped back to the two and he whispered, "Do...as I do." Silver didn't really have to be told, his training was already proven to Sawyer once before. Nash however seemed to need a bit of direction, never truely being trained. When they left the safty of the vehicles Sawyer dashed, running for the next group over. Then slunck low again, molding himself to the car door. So far so good. He thought as he peered out into the open, staring for one long moment. He had to be sure before making a move. His fist back up in a ball, telling the others to wait. Then he moved, going out into the clearing. Again there was no sign of life, dead or alive. It was odd, Sawyer started to ponder harshly on what exactly was going on. Signaling to them the cost was clear they ran in a single file line, Sawyer to the front and Silver watching their back. Nash was forced to the middle, being the one least experenced. It was the safest place to put him right now. Sawyer couldn't baby sit him the whole time though, he hope the kid would be able to pull his own weight. Lifting his gun up he neared the cross way before the market, his hand reaching back quick to yank Nash down with him against one of the buildings. Silver was fast enough to join with them without being seen, his voice coming in low, "Looks like we've got company." His hand pointed in the direction of the market, a massively large hoar inhabited the area. Sawyer gruffed annoyed, irriated and disappointed, "Yea I can see that. We don't have enough ammo to take a whole group like that out." His slammed his head back on the building wall in frusteration, now how were they going to get supplies? Someone or something drawn them to the shopping plaza though and when he peeked around the corner he got a glimpse of someone running. His gaze narrowed and he leaned back, "Well now I know why they're all hanging around here. New plan boys...we get the supplies and survivors while someone gets to play decoy." His boyish grim pulled up then as he glanced over at Nash, "Say kid...how fast can you run?" Sawyer got the shocked look on the boys face when he asked. He answered shyly and Sawyer nodded, "Well good cause Im going to need you to get into that market as soon as possible while I go distract them. Silver watch our back, get somewhere high up...use that gun of his." He trusted Silvers training and he doubted Silver would have passed his training without knowing how to peroperly shoot a Sniper Rifle. Nodding to him Silver spoke up, taking on Sawyers challenge. Looking back over to the streets Sawyer continued, "When I go in there kid I want you to run like hell. Get inside and make sure those Survivors are ok. Then you grab everything you can. We're going to need a hell of a lot more food if these two plan on followin' us. Now when I get those rotten son of a ******* attention not all of them will come for me so you better keep those eyes of yours open. You got that?" The boy looked nervous but Sawyer would have to rely on him. It didn't sit well but if the kid was as fast as he said he was then he'd make it. He just hoped that he was wrong about the boy and that he would be able to make the run. Sawyer gritted his teeth, his muscles tightening and his blood pumping in hard harsh thuds. Then with a growl he spoke, "Alright are you ready?" He gripped his gun tight and then shouted, "GO!"


Blazing from behind the building he fired, shooting the first few in front of him, "Come on! Move it!" The rattling of his gun turned the heads of the undead, their milkly eyes dully gazing at him. Then as if all at once they moved, shuffling for him. Silver was to take the roof tops, being a Guardian Angel over head. Sawyer didn't know how much ammo he had left for that gun but he hoped that he saved some from the shop. He rawred in the Walkers direction, getting them to pay attention to only him, "You hungry?! Then come on! Come get some you smelly peices of shit!" Again he fired downing a few more as his shouting excited the group, making their rotted bodies hurry as fast as their feet would take them. He continued to back away slowly, shooting a few rounds making sure Nash got in safe.


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It was the highest point in the sky where the sun had decided to stand. The heat making his pours crys heavy beads of sweat, trickling down like drops of rain. This was it, the thrust of adreneline, the shove of power. He kept it up, this was nothing to him just the start. The last five buildings he had conquered since then were long gone, his mile high journey coming to a swift end. The last three were going to be tricky, their size towering like mountains above him. He stopped with a tilt to his head smirking, "Heh...no one said this was supposed to be easy." Moving back he took a few steps, getting far from the edge for good measure. A hiss of breath lift him, the air whipping out from his active lungs. Then he was off, from zero to top speed he ran, going right for that edge. His body sprung and he reached far, the length he succeeded was incredible. Arm out stretched he strived for that goal, to grip the seal of a window and hang on. And when the cold comfort of that concrete slipped under his longing finger tips he grabbed on tight, his body thrashing from the sudden halt. A sigh of relife left him and he said, "Phew...man that was a close one. Just a bit shorter and I would've been a human happy meal." His brilliant versicolored eyes surveyed the ground below, the undead unknowing of his presence above. Taking a mental note of what could happen if he grown too careless he pulled his body weight up and scaled the building. Each window seal felt closer then the last, the exorsize getting his blood pumping. Then he picked up speed, jumping even, from ledge to ledge. It was a dangerous game he was playing, he and death constantly in a flirtatious tango. The thrill was just that much more rewarding, the taste of your life hanging on the next move you make. When it was finally reached, when he had won his feat he stood proud on top. This was easy for him, this was in his nature to do, in his blood. He went to run for the next edge, his body surging forward and going high. With his knees brought up to his chest he swung over the edge like a wrecking ball being swung. Straight on and effortlessly moving, a constant motion that would not pause. There was silence when he ventured off above that gap, only the soft huff of his breath. Then roof top rushed to greet him and he landed with a thump, his body rolling after.


He stopped for a moment and took a breather, his half drinken water bottle calling his name. It was a call he didn't ignore as his gloved hand reached back to it, snatching it up and putting it to his partched lips. This was it, the last building before plumiting below. He was in no hurry for the fray and let his body catch up with him. It still wanted to run, leap and lunge, to stay in that addictive motion. This would take a few moment for his body to register, the calm of his heart reminding his restless muscles to stop. As his head tipped back to down the rest of the water he heard steps coming up the side ladder. His gaze snapped over to where the ladders edge was and he capped the bottle, stuffing it back where it belonged. Then when the sound go to the thrid or fourth step he swept over to that side and waited to see what unwelcome company would emerge. He was slunk low, like a large jungle cat ready and waiting to pounce. When the face of a blooded man came into veiw Strider sprung like a coiled spring and thrusted a bone crushing kick towards the mans face. When he didn't make contact his foot planted quickly while the other spun his body round, giving it another shot. This time he made a hit but it was only a large stick he was carrying that took the blow. But at the sound of the wood cracking the man cried out, "Oh shit!" and ducked for cover. Striders attack stopped as the frusterated man chucked the broken wood ineffectively at him, "Watch it karate kid!" Striders brow shot up while the other farrowed down, holding himself in a mid-kick. This was a suprise, A survivor? He letting his foot down stood a bit bewhildered, thankful he didn't land a hit. Kicking the broken wood aside he said half stunned, "Geez are you alright? You looked like a Walker there for a sec." He felt so odd standing in front of a living human being, it had been months since he last seen one alive. Joy and confusion had filled him. He was glad there were still people alive but why in the world did he come up here? Strider scratched the back of his head a bit with a curious face while the man spoke in a irritated tone.

 

[xxZANE]

He paused as Ixiss spoke to him “Zane if you can’t keep it together...” He gritted his teeth and place his face inches from hers, his brows furrowed. “Don't tell me how I am... Worry about you...” He said his fists clenched. He felt his nails digging into the leather gloves. He was angry. How dare she judge him? He was a man, just a man and nothing more. He had lost people just like she had, if he was going crazy then let him go crazy. He was human. He pulled himself back a few inches and walked passed her walking ahead a bit as Charlene spoke. He looked over at her, immediately his gaze changed. He couldn't imagine being rough with her, Charlene was so tender and loving it showed. But she was also weak. And picking on the weak wasn't his style. He sighed and scratched his head a bit as she asked “Is everything...alright?” He paused again thinking of something to say. Something that wouldn't sound irritated, or mean, or even threatening. “I mean, I'm sorry if it's none of my business” She glanced between Zane and Ixiss. He began to walk again, out into the street, Ixiss walking behind him hesitantly. “Its fine, Charlene...Stay close” He said into the air, not bothering to look back. He could bear to stare into those eyes of hers. It was like every bit of emotion he had inside of him had been trapped in those eyes. He was afraid to look into them because he was afraid all the pain and hurt would rush back to him in an instant and a break down would occur. It wasn't something he was quiet ready for.


It had been a bit since they had started walking what seemed like forever. He looked up a bit, Taking note of the women footsteps behind him. He looked back occasionally to check if they were alright, they hadn’t encountered a walker in a long time, the streets seemed desolate and abandoned. This was great for them. Seemed like luck was on their side that morning. He walked passed a small prias and smirked remembering his mother complain about her prias and how much of a shit car it was because she could never fit everything she wanted into it. “You know... “He began feeling like he should put something out there about the situation, He didn't want to seem like he hated them. He wasn't a complete ****. “So muscles left on his own with Army guy... you think they are okay?” He looked back at Ixiss and Charlene who caught up with them and were side to side to each other in a line. Ixiss game him this look, and spoke giving him a confident answer in an uncaring tone. He reached up rubbing the back of his neck as if rubbing out a pulled muscle his expression changing, a smile on his face for the first time. “I'm sure muscles is flexing somewhere with SWAT boy” He gave out a chuckle. He looked over at Charlene and the small girl with her, she looked like such a loving mother right now, and it was hard to be angry. At the same time he worried about her and the child she didn't seem like she would survive on her own. He looked forward again, Hearing Charlene's thoughts about Muscles and SWAT boy's survival, he couldn't help but agree. There was a groan in the far distance. He paused. There where over a dozen walkers heading their way. “Oh hell...” He stuck out his arm stopping the two women in their tracks. “Pick up Julia, Charlene...” He looked over to her, his eyebrows furrowing. “Get behind the cars...” She told her signaling over to a huge 4X4 Red truck sitting sideways in the street. He watches she did and pulled out his Machete. There were too many of them for him to be able to take out. He gave out a sigh. Good thing they hadn't seen him yet. He looked over at Ixiss who was crouched on the side of the truck door looking over the hood her weapons ready. She was a fighter, that’s for sure. He slowly linked back crouching, the dead still not taking notice of their presence. “Shh” He looked back at Julia who was whining a bit, hanging on to Charlene as hard as she could. He looked passed the Dead to a pile of trees, He saw a boy – He wasn't dead; walking towards the heard of zombies slowly. Was he going to help? He tapped Ixiss shoulder and pointed to him, she nodded. He looked at Charlene and tapped the back of the truck signaling for her to get on top and lay down with Julia. He grabbed Charlene’s hand firmly looking her in the eyes, “I promise you’ll both be safe... no matter what...” He whispered helping them crawl up onto the truck. After she was safely in the back he walked around the truck to a car in front of it “Watch out for them Ixiss. Please” he whispered over to Ixiss who gave him a stern look but nodded. Zane gritted his teeth and jumped onto the car. “HEY ASSHOLES!!!” He yelled to the zombies, pulling out his revolver shooting one in the head, the bullet ricocheting through a zombie’s skull into another ones chest, downing them both, the other getting up. The bullet had called over the attention of the zombies, and they were slowly moving his way. There had to be at least 30. He was hoping the boy would help. His plan was to draw the zombies away from the boy while he came up behind them and killed most of them while he took out the front line. A zombie reached up to the car grabbing his shoe, Zane jumped down kicking it in the chest slamming it on his back, He jumped down on it cracking the bone around his chest and shooting it in the face. He looked up shooting another one in the neck, watching the blood gush out. It had been recently turned. “What…?” he furrowed his brows and looked at the zombies they were all fresh “Holy shit... there was a camp here..” he yelled, jumping over the rail blocking off the other lane of the highway “come on assholes come get me!” he smirked shooting another one watching it double over on the rail as the others jumped over.





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James walked into the city, his hand on his bat swinging it back and forth playing around with the air, making swooshing noises with his mouth as he pretended to defend himself from invisible attackers. “BAM! You dirty assholes” he smirked, laughing a bit. He heard some groans and stopped crouching down immediately. “hmm..” he moved against the side of the building climbing over a stoop to the other side peeking his head around the corner seeing a few of the dead walking around groaning looking for food. Something caught the corner of his eye, on the roof. “What the f*ck...” he looked up, it looked like someone jumping from roof top to roof top. “Holy shit... is that a zombie?” he smirked “ahaha. Well waddaya know...” He smirked and ran into the open, gripping the handle of his bat and smacking it on the side of the dead man’s skull hearing it crack on the pressure, As it fell he did a 3 sixty moving up swinging forward and brining his bat down on another zombie’s head, crushing it the blood splattering all over his chest. “awe ****” he side, the was some on his face. “Goddamn it...” He sighed and touched his forehead in dismay “For **** sakes..” he spit on the zombie “you bled all over me you piece of shit..” he groaned and watches as another limped his way over to him, it was a woman. “Oh? Let me guess?” he smirked flipping the bat in his hand “Was he your boo?” He smirked and swung his bat knocking her arm off in one swing shattering it. “well then, let’s dance B*ch” he walked around her, making her turn in circles as he laughed getting close to her and backing up when she snapped her teeth, the skin peeling off her face. “Whoa, not on the first date baby...” he smirked blowing her kisses. He looked up to the roof watching the zombie or person stands still and then continue. The zombie snapped at him grabbing his jacket. He turned around and kicked her in the knee breaking her leg watching the knee bed back “I told you baby, not on the first…” He swung smacking the bat against her head. “Date” he chuckled and walked off putting his bat on his back walking into a sports store, he looked around grabbing a pool stick and walked upstairs finding a ladder to the roof “I’m coming..” he said quietly grunting as he climbed up, he opened the hatch huffing and puffing he felt out of shape. As soon as he poked his head out pulling out the stick his foot slipped making his body shift as the leg of the stranger came crushing towards him missing and twirling again towards him connecting against the pool stick he was holding, breaking it in half. “Oh shit!!” he ducked for cover, he looked up noticing he was alive and threw the sticks at him climbing up all the way bending over to catch his breath “Watch it Karate kid!” he chuckled and stood straight again. He smirked as the guy spoke to him and nodded at his question “Yeah I’m fine…” he leaned back and stretched. “How the HELL were you jumping from rooftop to roof top? Whenever I jump off my bike I feel like I just ate a pound of Twinkies...WOOOWEEE that looks tough” he huffed with a bit of over exaggeration. It was weird finding someone else who was alive. Kind of unexpected but it didn’t matter; he wasn’t here to make friends. He was here to survive.