Realistic or Modern TWD - Our Broken World [Characters]

[Gears]

NPC Sheet

Appearance: Descriptions are rare because few have survived a ride have described him having a receding hairline, greasy hair, scars on face, and odd facial structure.

Name: That Fucking Psycho (Tim?)

Age: Unknown

Skills: Driving

Personality: The fucking psycho is insane but will not kill anyone unless he is called a freak, his driving skills being insulted or making fun of the scars on his face.

Bio: The fucking psycho was a urban legend before the apocalypse known for killing people in its taxi. He has mentioned as a child he strangled a teacher with dental floss. He has mentioned he spent time in an insane asylum before escaping. And has called himself Tim. He is usually seen driving in an armored taxi cab talking and laughing through a megaphone. Before ramming his victims who he refers as ‘besties’ or ‘friends’ with his cab.

 

[Patience]

Name: Cynthia Fairchild
Goes by: "Cinder"
Age: 20

Skills: Absolutely None that she's aware of.

Bio: Cynthia grew up in the lap of luxury to very rich parents who were never around. She was basically raised by the staff at her ivy league boarding school in Chicago and their butler George during the holidays. She was a below average student due to a non-existent work ethic, however generous donations from her parents made sure her grades did not reflect that. She embodied a very stereotypical shy, popular, rich girl with a friend group that supported appearance over personality. Free time was typically spent with friends shopping and showing off at the local mall after an extensive beauty routine.

It's safe to say, Cynthia never formed a close relationship with anyone and always felt a certain amount of detachment towards people and life as a whole. To compensate for this lack of connection, she would become the characters in the books she read and live vicariously through the pages of her favorite novels. Although no one would call Cynthia a bookworm, in the quiet lonely evenings she most certainly was.

Cynthia had no plans for the future and never really thought much about what she wanted to do with her life. But like all her friends, their parents made it possible for them to attend Princeton that August. Catherine, the leader of their friend group thought it'd be a great idea for them to take a road trip from Chicago to their campus in New Jersey. Celebrate their short-lived freedom and see some sights along the way.

However their adventure would come to an abrupt end, for just 2 and a half hours into their trip a car merged onto the interstate causing a massive pile-up sending the whole group to various hospitals in Fremont. While most of them only suffered minor injuries and would continue on to campus a week later, Cynthia had fractured both legs and needed surgery. To make matters worse, her parents were climbing mount Everest that month and were virtually unreachable - so the hospital called an emergency contact Cynthia didn't even know she had....

Name: Jolene Birdie Rutledge
Goes by: "Birdie"
Age: 67

Skills: Basic Survival Skills, Prepping, Farming, Animal Husbandry, Southern Cooking, Panhandling, Singing, Hunting and making Moonshine out of anything.
She's especially proficient with a shotgun.

Bio: Birdie became the black sheep of the family when she shot and killed her husband, given - he was drunkenly beating their teenage son half to death at the time and even though the court ruled it as self-defense - her family and extended family abandoned her and her children were taken away by the state. Admittedly, Birdie herself wasn't the greatest mother. A chain smoker, day drinker and all around hot head, none of her children tried to get in touch with her after they became adults. She often convinced herself that she couldn't trust people and was better off alone.
After many years of bitterness and anger, her daughter Sadie got back in touch with her, wanted to rekindle their relationship and heal through their history on the condition that she'd stop drinking. Birdie committed for a while, was at her daughters wedding and was even there for the birth of her Granddaughter Cynthia. But it wouldn't last. Finding out her son Mason died drunk driving into a tree sent Birdie flying back into old habits. That was the last she saw and heard from her family until she got a phone call from the Community Hospital in Fremont. Feeling like she had a shot at a "second" chance, she got in her 1980s Oldsmobile and drove north to meet her Granddaughter Cynthia. After spending the last few weeks of August with Cynthia in the hospital, she took her back to the farm for the last month of recovery in Roanoke.

Birdie was determined to "do it right this time" and tried her best to care for Cynthia, whom she called Cinder because "posh names belong in posh places" and she was convinced she could awaken a fire-cracker personality out of that melancholy teen. A week into September, Cynthia's parents got in touch and said they'd be flying into Fort Wayne to pick up their daughter. Much to Birdies excitement but also sadness, they made plans to meet up two weeks later. That meetup however, would never take place as a strange epidemic swept the nation, Birdie locked herself and Cynthia in her bunker to wait out the storm. But as time went on with no apparent change to the outside world and rations running low, she knew they had to leave the safety of the bunker. About a year after the outbreak, Birdie and Cynthia emerged to find their farm relatively untouched. Cynthia wanted to head to Fort Wayne and look for her parents, but Birdie knew better. They remained on the farm throughout the winter, every now and then a deadie would make their way to the farm and Birdie would make short work of it. She did her best to teach Cynthia how to fend for herself and be useful around the farm, but nothing stuck. So she did most of the work herself, like she was used to and left the menial tasks up to her granddaughter. Come spring, they were almost completely out of food and since nothing was growing yet, they knew they had to leave the safety of the farm and get supplies. They had picked the local places clean and knew they had to travel farther. Cynthia used this moment to finally convince her Grandma to head to Fort Wayne, she needed to know the fate of her parents and could not be dissuaded this time. So they made off in her Oldsmobile towards Fort Wayne, for better or worse...

People of note:
Cynthia's parents & Jolene's Daughter: Maxwell Fairchild & Sadie Rutledge Fairchild (Fate Unknown)
Cynthia's friends: Catherine, Becky, Lana & Rachel (Fate Unknown)
Cynthia's father figure / butler: George (Fate Unknown)
Jolene's husband: Fred (deceased)
Jolene's son: Mason (deceased)

 

[FellowKnight]

Spoiler: Billie Cross

Appearance: 5’9”, weighs about 187, lean-to-fatty build

Name: Billie Cross

Age: 28

Skills: In terms of raw combat prowess, urban stealth, and cold-blooded marksmanship? Yea, you can forget it. Billie is lousy with a gun at best, can barely swing a blade, is heavy-footed like the green-giant, and can’t stand the sight of Haunters without vomiting in his mouth. He’s either great, good, or green at the following:

Great

• Woodworking (From whittling little statues and knives, to building small furniture and structures like chairs and sheds)
• Cooking (specializing in soups and stews, but proficient grilling as well)
• Catching and fileting fish (He’d sometimes sneak Junette off to St. Marys River)
• Landing jokes at the exactly wrong time

Good

• Gardening (Mona showed him the ropes and he’s taking to it quickly)
• Urban orienteering (navigating by landmarks, streets, neighborhoods, etc.)
• Speaking, reading, and translating French (he’s falling off, but keeps books handy to refresh himself)
• Making camp (including shelter building, fire-starting, and setting noise-traps)

Green

• Sign Language (he’s got the basics down, but conversation is hard to maintain)
• Parkour (at least he’s got the stretching figured out)
• Dancing (yea he sucks, even with the help of a post-apocalyptic lesson from Junette)
• Hunting and killing (be it small-game for food, or Haunters/people for survival, it never gets easier)
• Being a father (his daughter, Amelia, is 2 months old)

Bio:
​

Billie Cross was born and raised in Tennessee, living above a diner his family owned and worked in. Much of his childhood and early teens passed without incident, even after his little ass-sore sister, Heidi, was old enough to wreak havoc. The pair did get up to their fair share of mischief in the summers after school, while their parents fought to pay the bills and drum up business. They’d get the occasional vacation or family drive out of town, but the best time they spent together was in the diner. His father taught him to woodwork, he and his mother danced while they cleaned, and he’d slyly feed Heidi from the grill when no one was looking. These years were golden in his eyes, and Billie had found in them his own passion for cooking, realizing his dream of owning a food-truck and taking to the open road.

All that changed when his mother tried to overdose on pills and whiskey. After a rush to the hospital and the long-road to recovery, she let it spill that his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and given a few short years left to live. The news crumpled Billie’s spirit like an empty can. All those years had gone by in a blink and it never felt like he’d been given enough time, as if he’d just woken up to this fresh nightmare. Almost immediately he turned to a nasty combination of painkillers and drink to drown out the noise, like his mother had, and flunked out of school. He ironically spent less time with his father and isolated himself.

It took an intervention from his father to help him realize he still had time left. This wasn’t how he wanted to leave his son, just like his sickness isn’t how he wanted to be remembered. Billie made that promise and went to rehab, sweating himself clean and finishing school in about a year. By then his younger brother was born, little Riley, just as his father’s health hit a rapid decline over the four years. A month before the outbreak he finally passed and looking back, Billie was thankful indeed he didn’t have to watch the world burn.

As things got worse and their little town was no longer safe, the four of them packed into their van and made their way to the nearest city that wasn’t being bombed or pelted with gunfire. It was almost like another one of their road trips and Billie did his best to make light of it all, for Heidi and Riley’s sake. His mother would sing and tell stories of how she met their father, the diner and all the tangled-up fun they had in it, and how Billie grew up as a little shit. But the country was tearing itself apart and there was no unseeing that. It killed him more than anything that he couldn’t put his brother and sister in a box until it was all over.

After a few weeks, they arrived in a little gated neighborhood that had been fortified by the locals, serving as a sort of rest-stop for refugees and families. They got settled in as more people arrived, more staying for good. One pair of sisters had been here for a while after their car stalled. Mona, the older sister, said they were from a band in Nashville and were trying to reach Canada to escape this mess, though her younger sister had more than a little to interject with.

Her name was Junette Baptiste, a fiery and impetuous little thing that would soon grow on Billie. Apparently she was the ‘DJ’ behind Mona’s singing, and could rip a guitar pretty good, too. Billie didn’t have even the slightest experience with music or instruments, but between her life on the road and his serving the oddballs of his town, the two of them had a lot more to talk about. It didn’t help that his mother teased him about it from time to time, but that spark had caught on in the months since, and soon they were sharing more than just stories.

However, things in this little community weren’t as they seemed. Some of the other families had started leaving, when they’d claimed they wanted to stay, though no one was witness to watch them go. Dreadful realization set in when someone in town pointed out the missing spark plugs on Mona’s car, the punctured radiator on Billie’s, and clothes being worn by others that Bille swore he saw on different people before. It all led Billie, Mona, and Junette to spy on those in charge, discovering secret trips out of town to a locked shed in the woods, overseeing a pit filled with haunters. Fresh packs in the shed and fleshy bones in the hole told them the rest. The entire town was run by scavengers, and little by little, they were adding to their collection.

They wanted to leave that night, but couldn’t live with themselves if they left these people to prey on others. Together they burned the hole and cleared out the shed, using the evidence to warn all the newer families and survivors, but it was too late. The rear gate opened that afternoon with sirens blaring like supper bells, and the massacre started as the dead came from the woods. Billie was ultimately separated from his mother and Riley, and took a beating after killing one of the scavengers. Junette had saved him, and with Mona behind the wheel of a fresh vehicle and Heidi in between them all, they put the burning community in their rearview.

They wandered and survived until they found Faith, almost thinking it was a mirage and passing it up. Inside they were welcomed openly if with suspicions and doubts, but they all pulled their weight one way or the other. Mona was initially a runner, but after a serious accident left one of her legs amputated, she helps around the gardens and cleaning the church. After Father Craig blessed their marriage and the medical staff delivered little Amelia, Junette joined the runners with Billie throwing in reluctantly. He didn’t want to risk the slice of life they’d finally earned, but knew better than to try and keep Junette caged like a bird.

Turns out that’s the smartest thing he could’ve done. She’s been missing for nearly a month after a routine run to divert haunters went sour, and separated her from her group. They all circled back, Billie included, sweeping and combing the area for any sign of her, with no luck.

Billie hopes– knows– she’s alive, and won’t rest until he saves the woman that saved him.

Spoiler: Junette Baptiste

Appearance: 5'8", weighs 180, lean to skinny-fat build

Name: Junette Baptiste

Age: 25

Skills: Being in the music industry for a couple years, as well as living with adhd and an know-it-all sister in the apocalypse, she’s developed a few healthy, hardy, and nasty habits:

Healthy

• The knack to read new faces and remembering names and faces by fruits and vegetables
• Being vocal and firm with just about anyone (unless it's her sister)
• Absolutely shredding a guitar solo (she lives and dies by that)
• Speaking and translating French (her mother taught her and Mona)
• Humming/ Singing when she’s alone or zoning ou

Hardy

• Dancing (around uglies and her heavy-footed husband, Billie)
• Tough skin for trash-talk (just don’t expect her not to fire back)
• Killing uglies (and making a contest of it)
• Urban navigating/ Parkour (definitely helps her focus and clear her mind)

Nasty

• Impulsive outbursts (from the heat of the moment to breaking ice, no one’s got a quicker mouth than her)
• Seeing the bad side of people first
• Occasional insecurity (when it comes to Mona)
• A slight addiction to melatonin and pop rocks
• Fixation on sounds/tones out of key (whether it’s an instrument, a resting voice, or some random noise)

Bio:​

Junette worked part-time at a Walmart in Houston, making whatever money she could with her making and remixing music tracks online. The plan was always to play and produce music with her sister, Mona, who was the singer and real talent behind it all. They’d pecked around the area for a big enough gig to get them picked up or signed, but it didn’t take off for a while. That all changed when a club downtown took them on for a night, and soon after another asked them to cover an empty slot, and so on. Within a month they had steady spots to play at each week, and in about six months, a label from Tennessee returned their calls and emails with an offer.

Even their father, a single parent and plant-operator for thirty years, started coming to their shows and cheering them on, and fully encouraged them to move out to Tennessee. Junette and Mona both offered to move him along with them, but he’d gotten comfortable in his position and didn’t want to hold them back.

The next couple years were about building a brand and trying to promote themselves to get signed on an even bigger label. Honestly, Junette was just glad to be along for the ride. Music had never been a personal dream of hers, but learning guitar was pretty sick, and there was never a dull moment in this life, especially when they were living it together. And if things kept speed, who knows, they might’ve even landed a spot in America’s Got Talent. Fat chance, but a girl could hope.

A deadly virus squashed all of that, and put the girls on a course through the most brutal eight-teen months of their lives. Following evacuation directions and avoiding the bombing sites, the two eventually took a detour to rest-up in one of those rich and boujee neighborhoods. A handful of survivors had made it their home and intended to keep it open for those weary from the road. Their car crapped out and left them stranded, though they figured they could probably hitch a ride with one of the newcomers. One such family had just arrived, a mother and her three kids, the oldest among them catching Junette’s eye.

His name was Billie Cross and he was probably the biggest, cutest idiot she’d ever seen. Turns out he was a local, so Junette had started by asking for directions along a map and he shot back with areas they should avoid on account of the crazy moonshine mountain-men. The rest came easy. It struck her that she’d never been in a relationship before, nothing even close. Mostly it scared her. She didn’t know whether or not to give it a chance, but like Mona told her, they were going to be here for a while, so why not try it out right?

And in those short months, things moved fast indeed, not just with Billie. They’d found out why their car wasn’t working, and what the community had been hiding in the woods. It was her first time seeing the uglies up close, and what they could do to a person with just their teeth and hands. Bones picked clean, almost no trace left of the person that’d been tossed into the pit. How could someone do this, just for another person’s stuff?

Least to say, shit hit the fan pretty fast and they had to hightail it outta there, leaving behind a horde of uglies and a plume of smoke. Billie and his sister made it out with them, but his mother and brother weren’t so lucky. After a month of constant travel, they were dead on their feet at Faith’s gates, and were damn glad they were let in. Junette knew by now she was pregnant and had shared as much the moment they were safe, though Billie almost fainted at the news.

When their daughter was born and their vows were spoken, and Mona was officially healed from her surgery, Junette steeled herself and stepped up with the others. She wouldn’t forget what she’d seen and couldn't change it either. But the people of Faith were good, she could see that much. She wouldn’t let them or her family become victims, not as long as she could help it.

Spoiler: Richard "Ricky" Sykes

Appearance: 5'10, weighs about 190, lean to fit build

Name: Richard “Ricky” Sykes

Age: 68

Skills: Richard's career as a neurologist turned neurosurgeon turned board director had left its fair share of pomp and bravado, and the pride of his reputation still has deep roots in him. He's become a man of a pragmatic and forthright mind, often considered manipulative and elitist, and is able to withstand moments of great stress and anxiety. He has light and steady hands, an eye for acute details, an exquisite mathematical acumen, and a brand of empathy unique only to a doctor. While his mind and tongue are sharp, the progression of his dementia has left his memory in something of a ragged state, only able to callback in loose recollections and visions. He now has to grapple with the object of his mortality as well as his slipping mask of sanity.

Bio:​

After graduating medical school and completing his residencies, Richard quickly rose through the trenches of an Orlando hospital, and later switched off to neurosurgey. He initially believed he could do more good this way, but found that it was simply the level of respect and grandeur that came with the title. Wanting to prove he was more than a mantle head, Richard slowly but surely outperformed his peers and took on more complicated surgeries. Halfway through his tenure, he was put at the top of the transfer list bound for Miami, and found far better prospects there as his name, talent, and reputation only brightened. However, at the diagnosis of his early-stage dementia, there was a political decision to park him on the board of directors until he retired. After nearly fourty-four years in the industry, thirteen of which dancing around egos in this particular hospital, he’d finally lost the game.

Which is why he spent the last decade of his tenure siphoning off extra expenses from all the records, funneling them into an offshore account. He wasn’t a poor man by any means, and the benefits of his retirement were indeed sizable, but he wouldn’t let it go. He’d been in this business longer than most of them and they still had the gall. To mock him and come after his work, devalue what he’d earned and take swings at his reputation. To put him out to patsture, out of pity and guilt! His work was everything to him, and his name was a legend that would live on!

His wife was beside herself when she found the doctored reports in his home office. How could he have been so sloppy? And when she confronted him about it, that underlying anger rose in him and a heated argument broke out. She felt like she didn’t know him anymore, and wanted to call the police or the hospital, but ultimately left to live with their oldest son. Fine by Richard. He didn’t need her messing about in his work anyways. He crafted some alibi for his friends and colleagues, that she’d left him for better prospects in Europe.

But it was all a fleeting success, and before he knew it, he’d been slapped in cuffs and hauled off to jail. Twenty-five to life, and Richard knew he’d be dead before the end of it. An old man was easy prey for cold-blooded convicts, after all. But then an intervention of divine proportions delivered a wicked catastrophe to his front door. Before he knew it, the walls crashed in and the prisoners were let free. He'd won after all.

In just a few months, he’s learned to survive on his own and leverage the power of his mind against the manic and fevered of the new world. He now finds himself moving across Indiana to the Canadian border, drawn off by the broadcast of a long standing community.

Spoiler: Heidi Cross

NPC SHEET​

Appearance: 5'7", weighs about 167, skinny build

Name: Heidi Cross

Age: 19

Skills: Devout Bookworm (U.S. history), Whistling, Excellent swordsmanship (with a stick or similar), Quick on her feet, archery (she’s had practice and a good teacher), can sketch almost anything.

Personality: Mischievous, comical, insightful with plenty of comebacks, distrustful of strangers, Confident, secretly craves approval, Talks a lot when nervous.

Bio:​

Heidi wishes she can rewind back to the diner almost every day, back to dad and a normal world. Nothing existed beyond her family, each day was a new adventure, food didn’t have to be scavenged or fought over (most of the time), and she’d wished it would never end. But when dad died and the apocalypse started, everything turned gray. She was angry for a long time, at no one and everyone, for the lack of justice in the world. Why was she being punished? Why did her life have to get taken away?

Mona helped pull her out of that nose-dive, relating to her pain and reminding her it was temporary. The world had changed whether they liked it or not, and she couldn’t blame herself for things beyond her control. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially after they had to flee their community in just a few months, but Heidi accepted it at last and did her best to move on.

In Faith, She held her breath at first and waited for history to repeat itself, but breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t. She didn’t think she'd survive the road again and she’d already made friends here. That said, it felt like she had a debt to be paid to the people of Faith, and to Junette; the woman went on a scooby-doo mystery hunt to warn everyone, and saved her brother too. Heidi would never admit it, but she was inspired by her.

After some thought, she settled to join the others on a supply run, or at least try. Yet of course, her stupid brother has kept her out of the runners, going so far as to have Ray stick her on garden duty with Mona. Not to say she wasn’t fun to be around and all, but Heidi knew she could do more, help out more, if she was out there.

Which is why no one, not even Mona, knows she’s been sneaking out some nights. She doesn’t go far, and it's not for long, but she’ll be damned if she’s treated like a helpless kid.

Spoiler: Mona Baptiste

NPC SHEET​

Appearance: 5'9", weighs about 170, slim to skinny build

Name: Mona Baptiste

Age: 34

Skills: Perfect pitch imitation, identifying medicinal plants and edible berries, planting and gardening, archery (thanks to Heidi), comfort dealing with large crowds, multi-tasking, charming.

Personality: Mona is generous in nature and practice, becoming a graceful presence in a ravaged world. When her closest friends come to her for advice, she has no issues listening, and almost always says something that’ll cheer them up. That said, the fire in her hasn’t fizzled out, even with her current condition. She’s always been considered a bit of a rebel with a flexible view on ‘rules’, and blames herself for Junette following so closely in her footsteps. She takes after her father in these respects and thinks of it as honoring his memory. Though the guilt of not making it back to him eats at her every day.

Bio:​

It felt like Mona’s life finally started when that phone call came in from Tennessee, telling her she’d made it. Words couldn’t describe how grateful she was, that everything was coming together and she was in a position to fully appreciate it. When she took off with Junette to Nashville and started performing, it almost didn’t feel real. And for some time, she wasn’t far off.

At first, she was convinced the dream had ended with the outbreak. She had wanted to be a singer for as long as she could remember, practically bawling her eyes out when she got that call. Now everything would be about survival, about the dead and how they made a new life for themselves. Things would and had gotten ugly as everyone grew desperate. That community only proved her point, though she was grateful to still have what mattered.

Now in Faith her belief in the lighter side of humanity has been restored, if only for the time being. These people, the way they took genuine care of each other, even welcomed newcomers like family. Maybe from this little corner of the world, there was hope for a future beyond this living hell.

 

[FROSTBITE4395]

Spoiler: Appearance

Spoiler: Mask/Clothing

Appearance:
Standing at approximately 7'5.5" and weighing no less than 550 lb it comes as no surprise that Exodious is a buff guy, having spent almost all his life in the gym.
Exodious suffers from a disease known to him as Gigantism, causing him to grow even up to ten months after death.

Name:
Exodious LocJaw

Age:
25

Personality:
As much ad it seems from his past, Exodious is not some blood-crazed psycho who wants nothing but death. In fact Exodious just likes his peace and quiet. Yes, he does thrive in battle or this Apocalypse because that's his mindset, he was built to last in this kind of world, but that doesn't mean he longs for the thrill of murder, in fact he doesn't want to kill, he thinks of it as an absolute last resort.

Skills:
During his time in the Apocalypse LocJaw has come to acquire a valuable trait in what is often know is 'medicinal practice' and other very useful branches of such practice much like that of surgery and the skill to diagnose a disease, though not very strong it could someday come in useful.
Though only 23 when the apocalypse started, LocJaw had actually been in the Marines since the age of 18, but even then he learned many valuable skills that have kept him alive, one even kept him from committing suicide.

Bio:
Born in a rundown hospital in Centralia, Washington on December 7th, 1991 to well mannered James LocJaw and his at the time wife Sarah Wright, Exodious had what many people on the outside looking in would call a nice childhood, but it was the exact opposite. When Exodious was born his mom had been a drug addict for several years due to the stress of his ex military fathers PTSD, not only had she done drugs and drank during her pregnancy, she had secretly hoped that the child would die before birth. But instead it was her that died, it was a rainy evening that Exodious had found her, he was only five years old and had walked into the living room only to see the gaze of his long since dead mother looking back at him, in her lap she had a note which read 'To my Exodious~ I wasn't the best mother, never wanted to be. By the more I saw you grow and smile the less and less I could look at myself in the mirror, I mean, me, a monster who was addicted to drugs and kept you around a physically abusive father, bore a beautiful baby boy such as you. I just couldn't go on knowing the weight of my sins." This letter broke Exodious, not only did his mother just leave him with an abusive father, but she tried to reason it as if she was the good guy.

When Exodious reached freshman year he was already 6'10" and 300 lb of muscle, to his classmates he was known as Superman, his friends, Exus, his dad, fuckface. That's right, even though the letter stated that his dad was abusive his father kept custody of Exodious, and on top of that he continued to abuse the kid, fresh bruises daily, although he was a full 2 inches shorter than Exodious and held a hefty amount of beer on his gut he continued to be able to destroy Exodious, but all that did was feed Exodious, it fed his hunger for vengeance, in his mind there was no good and evil, no right and wrong, only those with morals and those who would say 'Fuck It'. Exodious went through all of freshman year withstanding his fathers attacks, while on his own time he was training, harder than ever, he would spend nights at a time at the gym doing his best to stay awake.

At the age of 18 Exodious, then 7'5.5" and 654 lb of muscle joined the Marines and went front line straight out of bootcamp, he didn't earn his respectable nickname until he hit twenty-two, that was when he was captured by Iraq soldiers, for two whole years he was tortured and mutilated with little to no hope that his comrades were coming to help. But one day on December 7th 2013 he snapped, the then 7'5.5", 300 lb sack of meat 'n bones knocked out a prison guard and stole his firearm. Exodious took out an entire station by himself using nothing but sheer willpower and adrenaline to fuel him, when he arrived back to his base after those two years had passed he looked terrible, he was drenched in blood and hadn't bathed, shaved, brushed his teeth or so much as seen a tooth brush in two years, but even then he stood proud walking into his base camp with his stance in correct position, he held his chin up high and his chest out as if it had only been a couple of days he was gone. After many hours in a shower and about fifteen hours at the hair cutting station along with a new uniform Exodious look almost the same as he did the day he was captured, but he had a new nickname, one he wore on his new dog tags with pride, BloodSeeker.

After two more months of serving Exodious, now back to around 590 lb was sent home with a handful of metals awarded to him by the president himself, and that was when the world fell to shit, the day that Exodious had gotten back to the states he had fired at least ten clips full of bullets into peoples heads, or at the time he thought were people. Now, three years in Exodious has never told a living soul about his past or his physical condition, and in order to avoid ever having to he doesn't spend more than a couple weeks with the groups that take him in.

Spoiler: .357 Colt Pythons

Spoiler: Sword

 

[Doctor Voidsman]

Appearance:

Stasi Uniform:

Name: Karl "Greyman" Freisenger

Age: 62

Height: 6'1

Association: Stasi/Border guard (Former) Survivor (Current)

Skills: Despite his bad eye sigh he's a well shot when a gun is in his hands. self trained with a little from his father, Karl can hit almost any target. You give him the right gun or other ranged weapon he'll hit the target. he's a good cook as well.

Bio: Born 61' and served as a former Stasi (German police man) of the Berlin wall. He's well known by his Former name of "Greyman" due to his suit color and graysih white hair from his younger years. he uses an assortment of guns such as the KRIG 6, Luger Po8, and KaR98k (with scope mount). though he seems like he would be a threat he's positive outgoing man who likes sharing stories every now and then.

 

[Tarot of Death]

Appearance:

Spoiler: Face

Spoiler: Sword "Memento Mori"

Spoiler: Armor

The armor itself weighs 45 LBs, with the sword being about 3.5 ft long from bottom of handle to tip of the blade, the blade itself being 3ft long, the handle to hilt being 6 inches.

Urig himself stand at 5'9, weighing about 155 LBs.

Name: Urig "The Swede" Humme

Age: 36

Skills: Swordsmanship, Blacksmithing

Bio:
Urig was an Swedish immigrant-born child, given a moderately wealthy home as a kid and growing up in the growing suburbs of Fort Wayne. His mother who had cared for him deeply even on the days of his graduation from highschool, never left him without her unconditional love and support. His father, while hard headed and heavily tracked on Urig being a strong and able man, was also loving in his own way. Paving the way for Urig to learn how to craft his first blade on the Ren fair festivals, enjoying time together finishing the blades in the homemade workshop his father made, and going out to the renaissance fairs with his father every spring, even up into college. As he got older, his father even had the little Ulrig make armor for himself, and help make pieces for his father. With the donned armor, he began being inducted into the combat side of the fairs, sword fighting almost every year multiple times a month, not always a 1st place but always a hard fighter. As Urig got even older, he of course had his moments of rebellion and seeming hate for the world, but never truly did. Growing wiser and more experienced as he lived on in life, he had finished highschool in love with a girl he had known since the 7th grade, Meredith .

Together they had both gone to the same college, sharing every bleeding moment together. As soon as the two graduated, by their own promises and their desires, they had married. Urig, having a Bachelor's degree in electrical engineering and landing a promising contract with the city of Fort Wayne to plan out new infrastructure that was to be laid out for those of the city and the government buildings. Moving out of the city to be able to practice his loving hobby of blacksmithing and swordsplay, with little true objection from his wife Meredith, he had bought a reasonably sized cabin near the very edge of town. The cabin, having 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a full sized kitchen, fit him and his planned family just fine. Working day in and day out, having well paid and successful contracts, he had garnered the name “The Swede” among his coworkers and friends, which also soon became his alias for the Ren Fairs he attended. This was only due to his slight accent and very Swedish mannerisms and even actions, if that is somehow possible. As time moved on, Urig and Meredith had started to grow their family.

By 24, Urig had gotten his first child, his son Edis, named after Urig’s great grandfather. As the boy grew, Urig had carried the tradition of smithing and blade making with his son, his wife just as demanding for Edis to take a shower after as Urig’s mother had been many years prior with him. In time came the celebration of Edis’s 12th birthday, with Urig and Meredith having planned a great big surprise in the city, a party at grandma and grandpa’s house (Urig’s parents). As Meredith and Urig began to get ready to drive to the city, Urig had been given a urgent call, having some kind of schematic issue in one of his buildings that would almost certainly ruin any prospect he had for continuing his work if left unchecked. With little freedom to say no, Urig rushed his wife and son on to the city, promising to come with plenty of gifts and plenty of hugs and kisses after he had checked out the report and cleared the errors he had so desperately needed to. Resentful but eventually, Meredith and Edis left, as Urig did for his building site. After hours in the office with his colleague, noting some very stark issues and some happily found mistakes, Urig had hurried back home, grabbing the presents he had stored for his son in the closet.

As he roamed the house to get the presents, he turned the TV on as background noise, having the news already turned on from the night before. With him being mainly focused on making sure the presents were wrapped and ready, the news had started reporting of the North side of town becoming a warzone of people and a Marshal Law being declared as numbers of incidents and attacks increased dramatically by the hour. Urig called his wife in a hurry as his mind caught the story on the TV, having his wife answer, with the two discussing the severity of the situation and overall deciding it was just a riot that was going to die down in a few days. Calming his nerves, Urig went back to his business until a second phone call from Meredith had started coming in hours later. Her voice was rushed and hurried, trying to explain that they had been directed to stay indoors and not to leave their homes. Meredith was apologizing and hyperventilating, ending the call with an I love you and a final decision to stay at the grandparents house until whatever was going on, with Urig deciding the same, knowing that if he were to leave to be with his wife and child, he would either suffer the same fate or not be allowed in the area. As the days clocked by, the worst news had come. The barricades and lines set up by the local police and national guard had fallen. Sweeping hordes and packs of violent and vicious “people’’ had poured into the suburbs and southern area. For Urig, he knew the worst was to come. His wife did not call, and the neighborhood she was in was recorded and shown in flames, homes burning, cars racing and smashing against the many littered bodies in the road. He knew there was no more Meredith or Edis. Only him. No more loved ones or future. Only survival. And He knew he would never be the same. A man of a different meaning was born. And for that, the world would pay the toll.
Living through the apocalypse, a world birthed of ruin and inhumanity has stripped Ulrig of his former life. Down to the bone and whittled truly to his more bare memories and functions. The image of his wife and children in the background of his mind as he lived on through the undead hordes. The man just an operator of a sword. The occupier of armor. His mental escape from the horror of the world now was subconsciously blocking all it could that attached him to a world before. His degree worthless now that he could give no explanation of wiring diagrams, couldn't even recite Ohms Law. He was a shell of a man, a reborn warrior of few words and many slices. The skills of his passed life have been long lost, anything he could not use now he could not remember or apply. All he knew were the things he rooted to early on in life, the basics to meals, the strike and swift movement of the sword, and the hammering of sheet after sheet to make the wonderful armor and weaponry he found himself with. His world in his mind was akin to a warrior-blacksmith of the 1400s. He was no longer a relic of the old world, but a rebirth of the new one.

(Think Morgan in TWD with his whole philosophy change and his very hard stuck methods. Or Gabriel for a short while when he was doing that weird thing and having a huge guilt trip. Or Bob.)

 

[sazzabratz]

Appearance: She has a stature of 5'5", weighs 130 pounds, has a slim yet muscular build. (FACE CLAIM BELOW).

Name: Iyana Casanova-Delittle Smith

Nickname(s): Cuts (given to her by her siblings, when she was younger, any object she was given, she'd try to "slice" at anything with it.), CD, Nova, Yana.

Age: 20

Skills: Fighting, Negotiation, Hunting, Acrobatics, Dancing

Pre-apocalypse Personality: Stern, ambivert, seditious, audacious

Bio: Iyana was born in New York and raised in California. She was known for being the troublemaker of her family and school. It bewildered most since she came from a such prestigious and well-respected family. The Smiths, would quickly be recognized, not only for their outstanding skills as lawyers, but also their artful ways of CEOs. Being the youngest of her 5 siblings, she still lived and moved constantly with her parents. Since their jobs didn't keep them in the same state for more than a year. Iyana quickly realized this and began to care less about her education and more-so hanging out with the bad clique of every school she went to, doing crazy shenanigans.

She began her madness at the age of 10, successfully managing to spray paint her entire middle school, roof to basement with wonky and colorful art. By 13, one night she decided she didn't want to attend school tomorrow...or for the whole month to be exact, so she snuck in and somehow successfully flooded the entire building. When the school restored itself, she then paid people to transfer zoo monkeys to trash the place. Of course, her parents continued to pay the principals of these schools to allow their crazy daughter to attend. The final straw was when Iyana was 17, caught trying to blow the school up. Prank or not, the moment her family couldn't keep up with her rebellious ways, they sent her away to bootcamp, to where she became infamous. With her short, hot-temperament and soaring of the ranks. She went from a cadet, crawling in the mud with officers screaming at her, to being the one that does the screaming.


When that didn't satisfy her boredom and need for power. She worked harder, to be the best of the best, until she was offered a role at a private "agency", to become a sort of "assassin". She took an oath to never disclose information of her agency. From there, she took all defense classes, built her mentality and became a machine for "work".

Hours before the outbreak started, her family was renting a forested cabin upon the outskirts of Indiana to celebrate their mother's 45th birthday. As Iyana slept, she was awoken by the shattering glass and screams of her family. Exiting her room, she witnessed the morbid scene of her family dead and her mother, half eaten with 5 zombies surrounding her. Iyana blanked in a fit of blinded rage, when she came to, she was coated in blood and sitting in a pool of it.

By now, her family's death happened 2 months ago after the outbreak. She long buried their bodies, pondered if this was a respectful spot for them, mourned and cried. Since she resided in a cabin, there was already forest tools and supplies around, fishing rods, bow and arrows, everything she needed to keep her alive. But living in solitude, she could only endure for so long. She was a one woman team, she did perfectly fine. Until one fateful day, she was stalking her prey for dinner, until a walker came behind her. She fortunately dodged the bite, but rolled and tumbled down a hill, snapping her left leg. She acknowledge if she doesn't leave this area soon for help, this broken leg will fester, decay and she'll die right along with it. Luckily, she heard a broadcast on the radio inside the cabin about a community, growing everyday. With all that she could gather in a dufflebag and a bookbag, she took the family car and set out to find "Faith."

Post-apocalypse Personality: Stern, solemn, unostentatious

Weapons:

Her main being her katana, founded in a raided and abandoned store, hidden away. She will not be seen without this.

()

For hand to hand combat, she doesn't play fair and will not be seen without her brass knuckles

()

---

 

[Josh]

Appearance:



( standing at 6'0, 185 pounds)

Name: Alan Stockton

Age: 47

Skills: As a zoologist, Stockton is an expert on the biology and habits of wild animals, with a keen interest in endangered species. Stockton is skilled at organizing and planning, both short-term and long-term. He's an experienced hunter and farmer, having to hunt to feed the animals that live in the zoo. He's a skilled butcher and has learned how to make cheese.

Stockton is in peak shape for a man his age, as well as having a wellspring of energy. Surprisingly strong and incredibly durable. He's very resourceful and clever, very D.I.Y. independent. A lot of this harkens back to his childhood and teenage years as a skateboarder (which he has kept up with).

Bio: Born in San Diego, the only child of a journalist and a lawyer, Alan (who most people just called Stockton) pretty much raised himself. His family was always busy, so he did everything for himself. Cook, clean, and everything in-between.

Living in San Diego, the zoo there was a formative place. It was one of the few things his parents would do with him as a child. He knew early on that he loved animals and that he wanted to be a zookeeper.

In his teenage years, he was social and got along with everyone. He was living in Southern California, Stockton, during the skateboarding craze. Stockton got good at his new passion. He also got hurt a lot. At 18, he graduated with a full-ride to the University of Delaware.

Life in Delaware was good, even if it took time to adjust. Getting all the degrees and the extra training he needed, he soon got a job at the Philadelphia Zoo working with the more endangered animals, training them while giving tours to the public.

After a few years working in Philly, he met a woman named Amber. The two fell in love and quickly got married. From the start, he should have known something was wrong. She was a lawyer and often worked late. Amber seemed to be preoccupied. However, they eventually got married.

About a year in, Amber found out she was pregnant. Stockton was excited, but Amber was acting strange. While she wanted the child, Stockton was getting a weird vibe. Soon, their daughter was born and they decided to name her Alaina. Stockton was so happy. It was like life had new meaning.

One day, almost two years later, Alan found Amber and her co-worker Paul waiting for him at his house. It was the most painful moment of his life. Not only were Amber and Paul having an affair, but they were in love. Oh, and she was leaving him. Oh, and she's pregnant with his baby. And, of course, Alaina wasn't his daughter. Everything was a giant lie.

To say his world was shattered was an understatement. This was unimaginable. The most painful part was explaining to Alaina why he was leaving, that he wasn't her daddy. It was traumatic, and it left Stockton rocked to his core. He had to get the fuck out of Philly.

Moving to Indiana, he took the job as zoo director at the children's zoo. There he worked with the dingos, in charge of their breeding program, Stockton was successful because of all his hard work, and he was put in charge of the Australian exhibit the zoo had. He was a known name in his field. He even got offers to join prominent zoos. He was okay with where he was—being a big fish in a small pond.

At work, he was friendly to his co-workers, but he was not close to them. Still, if people wanted to go out for a drink, he wouldn't say no. Even if he never drank. Still, his heart was shattered from the events in Philly. He thought he would never heal.

About four years in the second week of a month-long trip to Australia, Alan met a woman at the hotel bar. She was crying and on her third glass of red. The woman was beautiful, a little younger than him. Taking a seat next to her, the two commiserated over their troubles. She was here to meet a man she was online dating, only to find out he had a wife. To make her feel better, Alan shared his own horror story. The two connected. Her name was Imani Isa. She was human rights advocate from Britain.

They spent the rest of their trip together, becoming extremely close quickly. Stockton would never say he was in love at first sight, but he was smitten. After two weeks, Imani's trip was going to end. The two exchanged information, and he promised to contact her. She agreed.

The last week by himself was hard. It was lonely; he also feared seeing where their relationship would go. He didn't want to be hurt and humiliated. Not again. When he got home, he didn't contact her. He was going to move on. Forget it happened.

One night, about a month after they met, he got a phone call from her. She had been waiting for him to contact her. She asked him why he didn't call. He told her the truth. She knew about his ex-wife and his situation with Alaina; he told her he didn't want to feel that again. The chance of the pain again, it was too much.

The phone was quiet for a moment. Isa spoke, saying he would never be happy if he never let people in. As much as they loved animals and they showed their own kind of affection, that what they felt for each other was natural and magical. And he agreed.

The two long-distance dated. Imani was mainly in London, but she did travel for speaking engagements and news stories. He would go to London and she would visit. She'd often stop by when free for a day or two, unplanned—Imani worked on a story about the zoo's Amur Leopard, Ussuri. The two got engaged, and they were trying to figure out what to do. If she was going to move to America, as much as she liked Fort Wayne, she could never live there. Before the outbreak, they had narrowed it down to New York. He had a job at the Bronx zoo set up when he was ready for the jump. However, before the small wedding they had planned, she had a trip to Peru.

About a month after she left, the outbreak started. The two played phone tag for days, but everything started falling quickly. The last text he got from her was: "Alan! The Peruvian government is shooting random people outside my hotel! Not just infected! I have to move! A group of us are going to make a run for it. I will get to you. I will find you. I love you, Alan. We will meet again. Keep the faith."


Stockton couldn't keep the faith. That was a lie. He knew it. There was no way she could ever get from Peru to Indiana. He hardened his heart and pushed forward.

He and a few other co-workers stayed at the zoo. They had to make calculated choices. But for the first three months, everything worked.

Eventually, his co-workers wanted to leave, realizing the government wouldn't help. Stockton flipped on them, calling them selfish. These animals needed them. Humans will survive the outbreak. Some animals, like the Amura leopard, are the last of their kind. They left, so he stayed by himself.

He changed after that day. People were selfish. You couldn't trust them—they're too worried about their survival. The eaters could be dealt with. They were nothing more than a new hurdle for Man to overcome.

Stockton did everything. He fed the animals. He made sure everything was running smoothly. And it did. He was able to raise goats, cows, chickens, and pigs. He made cheese, and had milk. He learned how to butcher. And when he needed to hunt? He hunted. Caught turkeys and squirrels. He had more than enough.

One day, on a hunt, he ran into Sean and Brooke from the community of Faith. They questioned him, and he was honest. He was offered a place in Faith, but he kindly said, "Fuck no." Brooke let him know they could always trade, and he nodded. They asked him a few more times after that to join them, though it eventually was made clear to Brooke and the others that Alan wanted no part of it.

Recently, Stockton realized he had a surplus of food. Everything was running smoothly, but the eaters were making massive herds. While the zoo was safe, some of his animals needed meds, and some stuff like dog food was getting hard to find. Alan still did not want or need Faith's help, but maybe it was time to open his door to others.

 

[AlmighTy]

Appearance: 6'0 roughly 180 pounds athletic build

Name: Kailyn Cole (Prefers Kai)

Age: 26

Skills: Kai has some medical training and he make a variety of bird sounds. That’s all for skills he has no combat training last time he raised a fist was third grade.

Bio: Before the apocalypse Kai was in medical school student who lost ambition he soon dropped out and began singing on a corner in Chicago. He has a beautiful voice he starred in many high school and middle school plays. One day his family came to visit and before they could arrive at the campus, they saw him standing on the corner singing and expedited home to Indiana. During the car ride he received a long lecture and started working in the morgue with his family.

He hated being home he loved the excitement that Chicago had, being back just reminded him of his hard childhood. Being the son of a mortician in a small town was the worse his family was always compared to the Addams family. They always wore black because his mother swore that using charcoal killed bacteria that regular laundry soap couldn’t. His father drove a hearse because they couldn’t afford a second vehicle. Yet no one asked but they all judged, when his sister started preschool, she didn’t under that their living arrangement was considered different. She would go to school and describe things that would gross out her classmates and her teachers.

This would backfire on Kai; everyone would say his sister was going to grow up and be more of freak than him. This made Kai distance himself from his family and tried his best to be “Normal, this made him an outcast at home and at school.

Once the apocalypse started Kai was working as a medical assistant for his local clinic, they turned a blind eye to the fact that he never completed the medical program. He would bring food, flowers and sing to people hospice to make their departure comfortable. One day he went to place a blanket over the newly deceased and she grabbed his arm and snapped at him viscously. Kai screamed and the clinic doctor ran in removed the hand and began checking Kai for bite marks and dilated pupils. “Run home and don’t let anyone in warn your family.” Kai did just that however when he arrived at home, he found his sister barricading the door to morgue. He asked his sister where their parents were, and he has yet to receive an answer. For the past year and half, they’ve been living in their cities Walgreen this came to an end when his sister let a walker in.

Appearance: 5'6 roughly 150 pounds

Name: Zaylin Cole (Prefers Z)

Age: 13

Skills: Since she was bullied growing up, she’s good at defending herself. She also has a bit of a green thumb she would plant flowers around the funeral home.

Bio: Before the apocalypse Zaylin was a loner, she would spend a lot of time in the cemetery or in the library reading about what happens after death. Even though her family went to church every Sunday she’s not religious. She believed in reincarnation, one day the class pet died, and she just threw it in the trash and told her classmates it was okay because the animal would come back as something else.
Her parents never corrected her because they believed it was the way she coped with death. She loved working in the morgue she felt like seeing the corpse come in looking lifeless and leaving out looking alive was a form of reincarnation. She adored her older brother until he left college, he was the only person who made her feel seen.

The day the apocalypse started she was working in the morgue with her parents. Her mother was doing the corpse make up while her father was prepping bodies for cremation it was a peaceful day. Then the corpse bit her mom and her father tried to get it off her mother. But soon after they were surrounded, her father yelled for her to run and barricade the door and she did just that. She doesn’t think of the zombies as dangerous; she considers them like regular people and believes if she doesn’t bother them, they won’t bother her.

She tested her theory in the Walgreens her and her brother were hiding in, she thought the zombie could live with them and she could show her brother that they aren’t bad. But when a zombie got close enough it began snarling and trying to bite her. Her brother bashed its head in and she cried for days believing that there would be a way for them to return to normal. In her eyes her brother killed someone’s relative.