Zombie Survival RP (Title Pending)

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Tortilla the Hun

Decidedly on the Fence
May 7, 2011
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NeoAC said:
Name: Ashlyn Tarpley
Age: 24
Gender: Female

Personality: Ashlyn is a tomboy, a result of her father's upbringing. She gets offended when it's suggested that she is unable to do anything, and will then demand to do it anyway, even if she has no idea how. She also takes insults and criticism very harshly, and will snipe back with her own remarks, no matter how justified they my be. Despite this, she will not hesitate to dish out insults unprovoked, especially if she sees someone acting in a manner unfitting of an ideal country man.

She has a soft spot for children, thanks to her role as the oldest sibling in the rural family as she can spot traits of her sisters in almost any little girl.

Appearance: Ashlyn stands 5'6", weighing 120 lbs. She has dirty blonde hair that hangs down to between her shoulder blades, longer than it usually is due to her not trusting herself to cut her own hair. Her eyes are light blue, and her skin is pale, as she hasn't seen much sunlight since the outbreak began. Her body is lithe, nothing too drastic in the curve department, but her legs show the signs of a runner, very well toned.

Her current outfit consists of a red St. Louis Cardinals hat, a white "Property of St. Louis Rams M" form fit t-shirt underneath a dark brown heavy leather jacket, a pair of light brown cargo pants held up by dark brown braided leather belt, and a pair of UK Gear Winter running shoes. Looking somewhat out of place on the outfit are the pair of diamond studs in her pierced ears and the blue sapphire pendant hanging around her neck, but they are there just as much for their former monetary value as looking pretty (You get unlimited unguarded access to a store, you're taking the most expensive stuff that you can carry and still outrun zombies with).

Notable Skills: Ashlyn has an athletic background, having played soccer and kicked for the football team at Central High. In addition she spent a lot of her time helping her father out with chores on the house they maintained in the woods outside the city. In the fall, the Tarpleys would grab a couple rifles and take hunting excursions into the deeper woods of Scott County, and Ashlyn is well versed in shooting as a result. Working at Enterprise has given her a decent amount of knowledge regarding St. Louis' layout, but she is still not as well versed as a native.

Weapons: Ashlyn wields a Sig Sauer M400 rifle [http://www.walmart.com/ip/Sig-Sauer-M400-with-Prismatic-Scope/21677320] for long range shooting, and a Mossberg 500 twenty gage shotgun [http://www.walmart.com/ip/Mossberg-500-All-Purpose-20ga-Shotgun/21692519] for closer combat. She currently carries five boxes of standard rounds for the Sig and two boxes of shells for the Mossberg.

Gear/Miscellany: Carries the following in addition to her weapons and ammunition: One backpack, one sleeping bag, a few NutriGrain bars, four bottles of water, one Sheffield multi-tool, one large bottle of anti-bacterial soap, one crank flashlight and a small first aid kit.

Bio: Born in Cape Girardeau and raised on the outskirts of town, Ashlyn grew up in the southeast corner of Missouri with the influence of the Ozarks reaching in to help raise her. Her father owned a hardware store in town, with her mother staying at home to raise the four girls. Ashlyn was the oldest and became the surrogate son for Pappy Tarpley. He took her out on hunting trips. He encouraged her to try out for the football team, even though the school board would only allow her to play kicker. No matter what she wanted to do, Pappy Tarpley helped Ashlyn work towards it, no matter what the cost.

At least until the Waltons made their move on the small businesses of the Cape. They went for the kill in the late 2000s and between the lower prices and the rising lease costs, Roy's Hardware was one of the stores that got swept under as people took all their cash to the big box stores. Money got tight, and Pappy was forced to choke down the Wall's offer of a vest job at half his peak pay to keep the family home from being turned over to the bank. With times getting tough on their family, and no jobs in the immediate area that weren't on par with the going rate in Wally World, Ashlyn made the sacrifice and moved out, looking for fortune up north in St. Louis against Pappy's wishes.

After attempting to try out for St. Louis Athletica before being told there was no money for new players anyway, Ashlyn picked up a job as a rep for Enterprise while working towards a degree at Hickey College. Every bit of extra cash that wasn't put towards her social life was sent back to the family. Once she graduated, she stayed on with Enterprise helping maintain their network of rent-a-cars, and somewhat enjoying the city life right until the Outbreak occurred.

Ashlyn was somewhat lucky in that her first encounter with the zombies happened while she was driving a retired-rental Chevy Cobalt. However, it was unlucky she was driving to the gas station at the time. With limited fuel she looked for a place that she could use as a shelter from this shambling storm. Sadly, the only one within eyesight was that malevolent force that forced her north. Wal-Mart. Swallowing her pride, she bulldozed through the horde giving her Cobalt the usual rental treatment until she managed to make contact with the survivors inside and convince them that she was still alive and not shopping for brains.

Once she was brought in, Ashlyn assumed a role with the small group of survivors inside; patrolling the garage for possible breaks in defence, cooking the meagre meals of Mr. Noodles and chicken nuggets using the Coleman Stoves from the camping section, fixing the HELP sign on the roof spelled out in tires and women's blouses. With everyone raiding the store for whatever they could have wanted, things were great at first. But after a few months inside the superstore, tensions were rising. The food supply was dwindling, no help appeared on the horizon and the small crew was getting trigger happy. The large stash of unused ammunition wasn't helping matters. Convinced that it was getting as dangerous inside as it was outside, Ashlyn planned to make a break towards a more secure location. Maybe even swinging by the Busch Brewery if possible to restock on the major thing lacking in Wal-Mart.

Other Notes: Ashlyn is a fan of the Rams, Cardinals, Chicago Fire, Grizzlies, and Blues, in that order (and the Blues are pretty distant).
Well, no complaints here. Even if that much ammo makes my sadistic side squirm. But, considering she just left an American Wal-Mart, it's not entirely unbelievable. Also, a character of the female variety is a welcome addition.

Link_to_Future said:
A Mortis-run RP about zombies? I can already see this getting gruesome in all the right ways. :D

I'm going to fiddle around with a sheet and see if I can come up with anything worthwhile. It's been a little while since I last RPed.

2HF said:
I've never done this before so I appreciate any more constructive criticism you may have. Thoughts?
Name: Roberto Ramos
Age: 17
Gender: Male

Personality: Distrustful of everyone but fiercely loyal once trust has been earned. Quiet but with a strong will to live.

Appearance: 5'4", 130lbs, messy black hair, brown eyes, jeans ripped at the bottom, mostly intact black hoodie.

Notable Skills: Tree climbing, car boosting, knowledge of electrical systems aquired via hotwiring cars and cracking garage door keypads, fist fighting, McGuyver level... McGuyvering skills

Weapons: Medium sized pocket knife, homemade slingshot and a dwindling amount of steel ball bearings, along with whatever small stones and assorted items he can find.

Gear/Miscellany: A backpack with a few bottles of water, a change of clothes, an old gameboy color with dead batteries, a twinkie for a special occasion, and a tire iron for removing nuts from tires for ammo (A time consuming and risky task).

Bio: Ran away from a poor home (Memphis TN) at age 14 due to physical abuse by a drunkard father. His only escape was the hours spent in his uncle's garage learning to fix electrical problems, doing oil and brake changes, and sneaking into the office to snag one of the many playboys kept in a bottom drawer. Learned to fix small things around the house with whatever supplies were handy. Repairmen were never an option in a house that could barely afford to eat each night due to his father drinking all the money away. Started stealing cars in St Louis and selling them to a scrap yard that paid next to nothing in exchange for not turning him in. Has been in and out of juvie ever since arriving in St Louis. Was lucky not to be in a cell when the outbreak occurred. Survived by sleeping in car trunks until joining this group of survivors. Has no connection to anyone in the city and thus isn't looking to find anyone. His uncle was killed when some thieves broke into his garage to steal power tools and found him working late into the night.

Other Notes:
Well, I welcome you and hope you find my criticism as constructive as Bob the Builder on a five-day meth binge. Figuratively speaking, of course. Now, with the revision, I rather like the idea of using lug nuts as slingshot ammunition. Certainly won't be too pleasant for anyone getting hit. Now, for the Bio. The order in which the events are written seem sporadic. First you have it that he's run away from home, give a rather brief description as to why, then go on about the past with his uncle for a bit before jumping straight into his time in St. Louis (unless of course his uncle lived in St. Louis, in which case that should be a bit clearer), all before jumping back to his uncle (which, again, is a moot point if his uncle lives in St. Louis). I also can't help but wonder why his trip from Memphis wasn't expanded on, unless his trip really was that uneventful, or you have intention of explaining it as you go along.

Redlin5 said:
@Mortis: Hunting exclusively.  And don't worry, I'm going to expand on his life before the outbreak whether through conversations, inner thoughts or dreams. :)
Alrighty then, that'll be just fine.

ruedyn said:
Name: Steven Wyman
Age: 27
Gender: Male

Personality: He has a dark sense of humor, and is easy to get along with (especially when he's in the air). He has been on the fence about suicide since the apocalypse, leaning more towards 'do it' after the failed attempt by his military to contain it. He doesn't fear the undead, only becoming one.

Appearance: He is a burly chap, standing at 6'1 and muscular. He has short, red hair and a rough beard. He is wearing his fatigue jacket over his plain grey shirt and plumber jeans.

Notable Skills: He is skilled with his pistol and can fly Helicopters and Jets.

Weapons: M1911 psitol (14 rounds, and not keen on using them), and a fire ax picked up on his adventures.

Gear/Miscellany: He has a swiss army knife, but the knife broke off of it in the early days of the apocalypse. He has a pocket watch that can tell time, though it's 20 minutes fast. He has a dinky red chopper that needs fuel soon.

Bio: Steve was always the smallest kid, till he was 15 and his growth spurt actually kicked in. As thus, he was always jealous of the tall kids, and even more of the birds. When he became 18, he joined the army as a pilot. He took to it very well, almost a natural. When he was stationed in Iraq, he was reserve so he never really got much action. His first mission resulted with him getting shot so close to his spine you could hold a quarter up sideways and still over shoot it. He got kicked out as he spent time in rehab. While he was there, he played flight sims, knowing he couldn't go back to military (or rather, didn't want to) he thought of becoming a pilot. Days before his final test was when the apocalypse hit. He was glad to be able to walk, and run again. The first couple months was spent rounding up the military for a last ditch effort of containment. When that failed he roamed around the country, spending a few months in a fire station, and his last few before he took to the air in a news building. He's been flying since the last ones' fall.

Other Notes: He has spent most of his times flying between locations, so has less of an idea of current events than most others.
Alright, I honestly don't know what to make of this one. There's just so many holes in this, I'm just not sure if I'm looking at a character sheet or a block of Swiss. No mention of where he got his desire to fly, other than a seemingly unprovoked jealousy of birds. Secondly, how exactly did he get "kicked out"? There's also a major gap from rehab to flight school, which really shouldn't even be that long of a process to people with prior military flight experience. You also have yet to specify for what aircraft training he learned and where. Lastly, with the amount of time you say he's been flying, that would require refueling a few times throughout each day, a feat I think hardly possible given the current state of the world, and that's if the engine is still fully functioning after constant use. My apologies if this is coming off as crass, but I am aiming for realism in this RP.

Link_to_Future said:
Name: Alex Mathis

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Personality: In a past life, Alex was a cheerful soul who surrounded himself with a strong support system. He always believed that the people around him gave him purpose and strength. This belief led Alex to be excessively personable and trusting to the people around him in the hope that it would help his friends accept him.

However, over the past five months, this has changed. As the world has descended further into chaos, Alex has become further and further detached from humanity. His trusting ways were shattered in the face of the unspeakable cruelties that he endured in the waning days of civilization. Because of this, Alex has forced himself to become self-sufficient and has grown more and more skeptical about the integrity of those who also wander the wastes. Although he still harbors his optimistic traits deep inside, his daily life is now dominated by cynicism and doubt.

Appearance: At 5?8? and 156lbs, Alex is not an impressive or imposing force. His body is lean and his ribs can be seen readily protruding from under his pale skin. He keeps his shaggy brown hair covered in a dirty knit cap and his hazel eyes hidden behind his dark-rimmed glasses. He prefers to wear a light tee shirt covered by his ratty brown zip hoodie that has only been washed twice since the outbreak began. He is rarely seen without his leather messenger bag that he uses to carry his supplies and books.

Notable Skills: Intermediate field medical skills, good interpersonal communication abilities, average athletic conditioning.

Weapons: 1 .38 Special Revolver, 13 Unspent Rounds (3 Chambered), 1 crowbar (because of utility/huge nerd factor).

Gear/Miscellany: 1 Thorough First Aid Kit (Bandages, Gauze, Disinfectant, Needle & Thread, etc.), 1 Pocket Medical Text, Two Days Light Rations, 1 Large Canteen (Water), 1 Small Flask (Vodka, 1/2 Full), 1 Roll of Duct Tape, 1 Broken iPod

Bio: Alex Mathis was born on a scorching summer day in a small hospital outside of Kearny, Nebraska. His childhood could only be described as ideal: His father was a small-town preacher with a fear of God in his heart and his mother was a civil engineer who designed roads for the state. Although the union made little sense to those outside the family, the marriage of faith and reason made for a wonderful environment for Alex and his older sister to thrive.  Both earned excellent grades throughout their high school careers and graduated in the top 10% of their classes.

Alex continued his education at the University of Nebraska in Omaha. His first year and a half there were an exercise in indulgence; there was very little direction in Alex?s life except to party with his newfound friends and drunkenly engage in spirited rounds of Left for Dead. His studies took a backseat to all the wonderful freedom he was now experiencing.

And then his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Once the shock from the news had faded away, Alex began to focus his studies intensely. He majored in pre-med and organized his friends into study groups that allowed them to accomplish so much more than they would have on their own. Although he still had time to occasionally goof off and play to his vices, the sophomore had a sense of purpose that he had never before experienced.

Although Alex?s father battled valiantly against the disease for almost two years, he passed away in the mid-December of 2010. Alex?s entire family was at his father?s bedside as the man they all loved peacefully departed from this world. On that day, Alex redoubled both his studies and his faith in God, finishing his degree in pre-med in the May of 2011 and going on to attend medical school at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis.

Life advanced from there as one would expect until the day the zombies came.

While the public was in mass panic, Alex and three of his friends kept a cool head. They had spent many long nights discussing this exact scenario in long winded hypothetical terms. As quickly as they could, they barred themselves in a small house that was both easily defensible and close enough to a nearby supermarket to allow for easy scavenging. This setup treated them quite well for several months?until the bandits began showing up in the area to deliver the bluntest of reality checks. Alex narrowly escaped from a raid that killed all three of his friends. Knowing that there was nothing left for him in Minneapolis, Alex commandeered an abandoned vehicle and started making his way back to Kearny to see if he could somehow rendezvous with his mother.

When he finally reached home, he did not like the welcoming sight.

Left with no other options, Alex opted to cast his last hope into the wind. His sister had been living in St. Louis at the time of the outbreak. It was doubtful that she was still alive, but if she was...

Other Notes: Alex is not skilled in combat and has mostly survived on a policy of avoidance and methodical skepticism. He no longer falls for traps easily and is not fast to trust those he doesn?t know. His medical training has been the one of the greatest boons on his journey so far.
Well, well, well. Not only does he bring flattery to the table, but a good character as well. This makes sense to me, though if you see fit to polish it further, you'll have no argument from me. ^^

njrk97 said:
Name: Ryker Hampton
Age: 21
Gender: Male

Personality: Isolated and quiet Ryker feels as if society had cheated him due to being sent to jail for a crime he didn?t commit and because of this jail time he has become rugged and cares for no human life, but perhaps the zombie outbreak is a chance for him to redevelop relationships.

Appearance: A long black beard sprouts from his chin giving him the appearance of some homeless man he is also relatively thin despite his time in jail. His hair is a messed up as his beard and he still is wearing his orange prison uniform pants and a white singlet that raps loosely around his chest. A recurve crossbow is slung around his back it is battered but reliable and his Bolts sit on a sheath on his hip

Notable Skills: His father used to take him hunting and taught him how to fire, repair and arm his refurbished and repaired crossbow and as such has become a sharp shooter, being able to pick off zombies at range. He also has become extremely nimble due to the constant attacks on him in jail and thanks to this he can easily climb up trees and other vertical faces.

Weapons: Refurbished 1800 modified recurved crossbow.

Gear/Miscellany: Sheath with bolts (25) and a side back pack with a small amount of dried meat bandages and water canteen

Bio: Ryker grew up in the St Louis area. Having a healthy childhood and loving parents meant he prospered into a fine young man but everything unraveled. Ryker was framed for a suspected Robbery and ended up with two years in jail for his so called crimes.

When the zombie apocalypse occurred Ryker was given a second chance. A lone man sat in a small prison cell located in the centre of C block. The walls were a drab grey and the only essence of colour was the man in the orange prison uniform. He was sitting on his bed frame reading the same book he had finished 3 months ago being a man in jail there was not much to occupy himself with and for the last year he had sat in his cell reading or was in the prison court yard. There was a large commotion over near the Edge of C Block, there had been lots of fights as the jail was becoming understaffed, a lot of the guards had left on sick leave describing strange symptoms and had not returned for several weeks. The guards in charge of the prison cell doors do not bother with stoping the commotion there was no point as they were so frequent. The first guard in the control room was streched over his chair with a cup of coffee in his hand. The second guard was hunched in his chair and appeared to be asleep and it seemed that the first guard was also dozing off his eye lids falling heavy. He was suddenly awoken by the second guard who forced him onto the control panel slamming multiple buttons as he fell. The second guards skins had turned pale his eye were bloods shot and several cuts were scattered across his skin the first guard didn?t even get a chance to pull his gun. All that could be seen from the outside was a splatter of blood fly across the window as the C block doors grinded open. At the same time the infirmly door burst open as a stream of 10 zombified convicts came running into the C block area. An all-out battle broke out between the living and the un-dead. Ryker was not quite sure what was happening but whatever it was it meant one thing for him?..

Escape, Ryker had been in his fair share of fights but never swang a punch instead he used his thin figure to weave between the battles without any injuries. Ryker ran up the hallway between the battle and made his way up to where the control room was, he was not exactly sure how he would get in but as ran towards the entrance he was that the control room door had been ripped off its hinges and was lying on the floor and so was one of the guards. Ryker crept towards the unconscious guard and slowly reached out for his keys. The Guard hand whipped out onto his arm like lightning and as the guard pulled his head upwards revealing a lifeless primal face. Ryker attempted to get the guard off him but the guard?s grip was firm and he was about to take a bite into Rykers arm. The keys fell off the guard as Ryker mustered all of his strength and drove the guard back slamming him into the control board with such force that the guard slid across the panel slamming into the glass shattering it as he fell into the brawl between the zombies and handful of living below. Rykers was breathing heavily still with adrenaline pumping as he grabbed the keys and ran through and unlocked several doors that where in his way until he burst out into the sun light. The sight that greeted him was on of utter chaos with the living still fighting valiantly with the growing population of the un-dead in the centre of town but Ryker ran the other way heading towards the outskirts and his home. He wasn?t sure why he ran there but it just seemed to click to him.

He made his way back to his parents? house as a small following of zombies chased him. He barricaded himself in as he made his way down into the dusty basement. The basement was dark a dingy covered in dust and cobwebs but it only took a few moments for Ryker to find what he needed a larger brown suit case. He popped the latches revealing his recurved crossbow, the oak wood handle and brass plated mechanism were still in just a good condition as when it was new. Ryker slung it around his back and attached the hip quiver that housed the 40 bolts. He then walked back up to the house and headed for the back door. He only got a small look at his zombified parents as he slammed the door shut and ran out into the country. A small string of service station gave him some necessary supplies, Water bottle, a back pack that he can hang from on shoulder and a large supply of dried food. It was only recently that Ryker began his journey back into town. His food supplies were running short and he felt as if he was ready to face the zombies to continue to survive.
Alright, I certainly like the additions you made. Only criticism I have is the occasional spelling and punctiation errors, though those are fairly minor. Other than that, good work.
 

2HF

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May 24, 2011
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2HF said:
Name: Roberto Ramos
Age: 17
Gender: Male

Personality: Distrustful of everyone but fiercely loyal once trust has been earned. Quiet but with a strong will to live. Loves movies and music. He retreats into these things when strong emotions threaten to overcome him.

Appearance: 5'4", 130lbs, messy black hair, brown eyes, jeans ripped at the bottom (stolen), mostly intact black hoodie (stolen), and navy blue chucks (stolen).

Notable Skills: Climbing (trees, pipes, poles), deadly accuracy with a slingshot, car boosting, knowledge of electrical systems acquired via hotwiring cars and cracking garage door keypads, fist fighting, McGuyver level... McGuyvering skills

Weapons: Flathead and Phillips head screwdriver, homemade slingshot (will look to upgrade to a high-powered commercial model if at all possible) and a dwindling amount of steel ball bearings, along with whatever small stones and assorted items he can find.

Gear/Miscellany: A backpack containing various items. A change of clothes, a hacked PSP, a twinkie for a special occasion, and a tire iron for removing nuts from tires for ammo (A time consuming and risky task).

Bio: Born into a poor family, Roberto suffered greatly under the rule of a drunkard father. Home repairs were often left to Roberto since repairmen cost money. Duct tape and screwdrivers were always the right tools for the job. He would escape from this hell to his uncle's garage where he spent many days learning to do minor repairs on cars. Oil changes, break changes, and the occasional electrical bug all became routine. One night, when Roberto was 14, a couple of junkies came in and shot his uncle to steal a few power tools. Roberto was in the office flipping through a playboy when he heard the shot. When he came out to the garage and found his uncle dead he decided to leave this life behind. He hopped into a nondescript Civic he'd helped fix and drove north without incident until he ran out of gas, ending up a few miles short of the Gateway Arch. He walked the rest of the way into the city to begin his new life of petty thieving and grand theft auto. He began selling cars to a local scrap yard that didn't care about his lack of ownership. By age 17 he'd been in and out of juvie a few times. When the outbreak occurred Roberto survived by sleeping in car trunks and bringing down birds and squirrels with his slingshot.

Other Notes: Roberto charges his PSP overnight when sleeping in cars by splicing wires coming from the battery into the car and connecting his own spliced charger. The PSP contains a few movies, some songs, and a few games.
 

Tips_of_Fingers

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Jun 21, 2010
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Mortis Nuncius said:
Snippy-Snip
Yo Monsieur le Mortis!

I may throw a sheet in sometime later this evening. If not, expect on within a few days.

When do you plan on starting? And how many players will you be recrtuiting for this macabre adventure?
 

Ruedyn

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Jun 29, 2011
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Mortis Nuncius said:
Yeah, the jealousy thing I could've explained better, it's because he was short is all. I guess he just wanted to be above everyone?

The second, I meant he was using a computer, thus the sim thing. Not certified, just trained.

The third... Crap. That one was actually a mistake.

I see one thing to fix, two to explain better. Not exactly swiss cheese. I'll just assume the harsh critique is because you love me [sub]To say it isn't, simply post a LOL didn't read .gif[/sub]
 

Ruedyn

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Jun 29, 2011
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Name: Steven Wyman
Age: 27
Gender: Male

Personality: He has a dark sense of humor, and is easy to get along with (especially when he's in the air). He has been on the fence about suicide since the apocalypse, leaning more towards 'do it' after the failed attempt by his military to contain it. He doesn't fear the undead, only becoming one. He becomes more jovial and happier when flying or talking about things that do.

Appearance: He is a burly chap, standing at 6'1 and muscular. He has short, red hair and a rough beard. He is wearing his fatigue jacket over his plain grey shirt and plumber jeans.

Notable Skills: He is skilled with his pistol and can fly Helicopters and Jets.

Weapons: M1911 psitol (14 rounds, and not keen on using them), and a fire ax picked up on his adventures.

Gear/Miscellany: He has a swiss army knife, but the knife broke off of it in the early days of the apocalypse. He has a pocket watch that can tell time, though it's 20 minutes fast. He has a dinky red chopper that needs fuel soon.

Bio: Steve was always the smallest kid, till he was 15 and his growth spurt actually kicked in. As thus, he was always jealous of the tall kids, and even more of the birds, those small creatures that can still manage to make him feel small. In fact, he was always interested in planes, helicopters, and for a time UFOs, building models and researching them.
Needless to say, when he became 18, he joined the army as a pilot. He took to it very well, almost a natural. When he was stationed in Iraq, he was reserve so he never really got much action. His first mission resulted with him getting shot so close to his spine you could hold a quarter up sideways and still over shoot it. He got out for awhile to heal in rehab. While he was there, he played flight sims on a laptop from his brother. Knowing he couldn't go back to military (or rather, didn't want to) he thought of becoming a pilot. Days before his final sim (on landing) was when the apocalypse hit. He was glad to be able to walk, and run again. The first couple months was spent rounding up the military for a last ditch effort of containment. When that failed he roamed around the country, spending a few months in a fire station, and his last few before he took to the air in a news building. He's been flying since the last ones' fall, so about 1 week. The engine is having troubles though, and his food supply is lower than ever. Every night he lands he hears the moans of the dead that follow his noisy ride.

Other Notes: He has spent most of his times flying between locations, so has less of an idea of current events than most others. Also, he has bullet lodged near his spine that causes him pain every now and then. He also doesn't know how to land anything other than helicopters.
I HOPE this explains things better. I fully expect to come back to this, provided Mortis even bothers giving me a third chance.
 

SkyeNeko

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Dec 30, 2010
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Name: Naomi Blackwell
Age: 30
Gender: Female

Personality: Determined and optimistic, and of the belief that there's nothing that some hard work and sweat can't solve. She constantly pushes her limits, a fitness and adrenaline junkie. She doesn't let anything, even the zombie apocalypse, get her down.

Appearance: Naomi has short blonde hair in a pixie cut, with previously red highlights that have faded to orange, and light brown eyes. She's 6 feet tall, with a slim, athletic build.

She normally wears a white sweatband, a purple sweater over a black tank top, loose cargo pants with several pockets and sneakers with metal cleats.



Notable Skills: Peak physical condition, wilderness survival techniques, hunting and scavenging skills, basic self defense

Weapons: A pocket knife, a pair of ice tools, and a Beretta with an extra clip of bullets.

Gear/Miscellany: Climbing ropes, a lighter, a tube of heat rub, 2 bottles of dishwashing soap (one watered down, one concentrated)

Bio: Naomi was born and raised in California, her sun kissed skin a product of the sandy beaches of Malibu. She got her fitness obsession from her parents, who were health nuts. In high school she was in Volleyball and Track, easily making the varsity teams while keeping her grades reasonable. There was nothing she loved more than feeling the wind on her face, exploring the unknown, and adventure.

In college she majored in Plant Sciences. It was easy, it was useful in the wild, and it was a degree. What she was really concerned about were her extracurricular activities, which ranged from rock climbing to swimming and snorkeling. She met her husband during one such activity: biking. It was love at first sight. They spent their honeymoon on Mount Everest (although they didn't make it to the top), rappelling hundreds of feet down the cliff faces. After their marriage, Naomi happily became a housewife for her engineer husband, making dinner and cleaning the house in between running marathons.

Her drive for everything athletic temporarily changed when she found out she was pregnant. Naomi and Daniel were ecstatic. They had been trying for years to get pregnant. For the next 6 months she ate nothing but chicken, salad, and water (not like that was far from her normal diet). She attended prenatal yoga sessions every other day. On March 25, the Blackwells were gifted with a healthy baby boy, named Blake.

They spent a lot of time outdoors on camping trips, especially in Yosemite. It was during one such trip that the zombie outbreak occurred. The family had taken a trip to St. Louis, Castlewood Park, to be exact, for Blake's 6th birthday. They stayed in the wilderness for a few days until they encountered their first member of the undead. The man ambled towards them, moaning, clearly not... alive. Who hadn't watched horror movies? Still, it was hard to actually have to kill it. Daniel shot it once in the chest and once in the head when it tried to grab Blake.

From there it was a mad dash to the nearest road as they tried to get help. They only had enough supplies for 2 more days in the wilderness, and the roads were crawling with the undead. Naomi was separated from her husband and son when their car crashed and they were forced to make a run through the woods to safety. Thankfully, they had already came up with a contingency plan. If they ever got separated, they would meet at Plaza Frontenac, the only real landmark they all remembered in the city.
 

TheBlueShotgun0

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Dec 20, 2011
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Mortis Nuncius said:
Aside from a few typing errors, there's little I see to correct about this sheet. However, his plentiful supply of ammunition is a bit of a turn-off, I must say. I mean I realize just how much ammunition is given to active-duty GIs, and given the time of crisis it'd be hard to imagine they wouldn't maximize on this, but I'd think he wouldn't be as well-equipped after having survived for as long as he has. But maybe that's just my desire to make characters suffer talking...anywho, I await to see what the Bio looks like.
Sorry I haven't been able to finish my sheet when I said I would; life happened. I'll repost it here for easy reference.
Name: Jacob "Jake" Robin
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Personality: Although he tries to play himself off as being brave and heroic, he is in fact neither of these things. He fears for his own life more than he'd care to admit, but honestly wants to be the hero he believes he should be. Beyond that, Jacob is also fairly kind, if a bit dim. He likes to be part of a group, and will commit himself to that group to the best of his ability. His training in the Army has made him a very by-the-books person and he has great respect for rules and laws, something that becomes more and more rare as the days go by.

Appearance: White, 6 foot, with messy brown hair. He's usually wearing his sun glasses and Army gear.

Notable Skills: Marksmanship and hand to hand combat are Jacob's strong suits. He's also become skilled in stealth since the outbreak.

Weapons: Silenced M4A1 Carbine, Beretta M9, combat knife.

Gear/Miscellany: 60 rounds of 5.56mm ammo, 30 rounds of 9mm ammo, canteen, Army Combat Uniform, lighter(scavenged), sleeping bag (scavenged), gun cleaning supplies (scavenged and supply is running low).

Bio:
Up until graduation, Jake had spent his entire life in the ghettos of Chicago. His father left when he was 3, and Jake still doesn't know his name or what he looks like. His mother had to raise him by herself, and was away most of the time working one of her three jobs. With so little parental guidance, Jake fell in with a bad crowd almost instantly. He would frequently skip school to shoplift, do drugs and get into fights, all with the constant encouragement of his friends. He had the rest of his life planned out; he would drop out as soon as he could, join one of the local gangs, and spend the rest of his life working his way through the ranks. He would have gone through with it too, if his friend hadn't been gunned down when he was 15. The friend had been the victim of a drug deal gone bad, and this taste of real gang violence shocked Jake out of his life style. He realized that he was leading a life that would put him in an early grave over a few grams of crack. Jake rethought his life and eventually decided that he wanted to join the Army, hoping that the military would impose some level of order on his life. He turned his back on his former friends and started getting his grades up. One he graduated, Jake enlisted in the US Army and left Chicago for good in 2013.

Jake was sent to basic training and trained as a "Combat Specialist"; a fancy way of saying grunt. Jake was fine with this; most other jobs were too technical for him. After training, he expected to be sent over seas, to Afghanistan or maybe Korea. Instead he was assigned to homeland security. He was happy to hear it; he thought it meant that he wouldn't see any combat. For the few months that Jake was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood, the Army was everything he hoped it would be. The discipline and rigid structure of life appealed to him, and the nationalism and commitment to duty of his peers slowly rubbed off on him. But when Jake's unit was ordered to set up a quarantine around St. Louis, he couldn't help but have questions. They weren't told what kind of disease they were containing, only that no one was allowed into or out of the city. But it wasn't Jake's duty to ask questions, so he didn't. None of them did.

A 12 foot tall barbed wire fence was set up along the perimeter. Jake was one of a handful in charge of stopping traffic on route 70 just outside the fence. The quarantine held for about 3 days. The last night is forever burned in Jake's memory. Before that night, he had never seen one of the zombies, but he'd heard their moans from behind the fence. He remembers hearing gunfire in the distance, cries from the radio, and then yells and clattering from the closest part of fence. He and his squad turned to see a horde of dead bodies bashing against the chain link, their decaying forms falling apart as they pressed against the metal. As more zombies joined in, the more the fence buckled under their force. At some point, the Sargent snapped out of the shock that had gripped the squad and ordered them to fire at the horde. Jake switched his carbine to full-auto and started firing blindly into the mass of bodies. Around the city, other G.I's were doing the same, but it wasn't enough. The fence fell under the combined weight of thousands of undead, leaving nothing between them and the Army. It is at this point that Jake turned and ran, leaving his fellow soldiers behind. He turned back after about 20 yards to look at his comrades. Upon seeing the state they were in, he keep on going.

Jake wound up camping over night near Mark Twain Lake, and has maintained a base camp there for the last few months. He did join with another group of survivors for a short time, but left after a very heated disagreement over the treatment of helpless women. He regularly goes into one of the surrounding towns to scavenge what he can (one time he even found a suppressor that was compatible with his M4A1) but dwindling resources will soon force him into the city.

Other Notes: Jake has survivor's guilt over the death of his squad. He feels he shouldn't be alive and should have died with his comrades.
 

KelevraBD

New member
Aug 13, 2012
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I've had an interesting idea for a character for a while and a Zombie Apocalypse RP seems like as good an avenue as any to test it out.

I'll add a sheet to this post when I get a chance (probably either tonight or tomorrow afternoon)
 

Sehnsucht Engel

New member
Apr 18, 2009
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<spoiler=Yasei>Name: Dana "Yasei" Nakamura

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Personality: Laid back most of the time, but can easily become energetic and enthusiastic when motivated. It doesn't take much to motivate her either, and she prefers remaining optimistic rather than breaking down and crying. She can't stand negative people or whining, it gets on her nerves. Dana doesn't have an endless reserve of energy though, which is why she tries to remain calm normally. She likes quoting lyrics from songs when speaking.

Appearance: Dana is of asian heritage, but was born in California in the US, to a japanese father and an american mother. Her body is well trained and muscular, with quite large arms, but not in a way that it looks unnatural. She keeps her long blue hair back with a black bandana, which has the band name "Inspired plague" written in white letters across it. Dana wears a black sleeveless shirt, which arms has been cut off. Her pants are grey regular jeans, with a couple of large chains attached to them. She also has rocker boots and a short leather jacket, with her band name written on the back, over an image of a plague doctor's mask, with a red snake slithering through its eyes. She is 170 cm, with green eyes and asian looking facial features.

Notable Skills: She can speak japanese and english fluently, and knows some german too, not nearly as much, but she can get by when talking with others. Dana can drive a variety of vehicles and has licenses for most of them. The ones she has driving licenses for are cars, motorcycles and lorries. Her occupation before the outbreak was as a drummer in the band Inspired Plague, and whenever she had time she would practice her drumming, which drove her family crazy at times during her teens.

Weapons: A baseball bat and katana strapped to her backpack.

Gear/Miscellany: Two pair of drumsticks, a lockpick toolkit, a package of batteries, two bottles of water, a backpack, a large bag of weed, some chicken sandwiches, headphones and an mp3 that runs on batteries.

Bio: She was born in California, to a wealthy family. Her mother was a surgeon and her father was the CEO of an international company, that made cars. As such, money was never a problem for her and she had a spoiled childhood at the family's mansion. Her family consisted of her two older brothers, a couple of guard dogs and a butler. The family's butler spent more time with the children than their parents, who were both busy working.

Dana went to a private school, that her parents paid for, but she rarely felt motivated to study. The only subjects she actually enjoyed were music and language. She was taught Japanese and English, from an early age, on her parents request, but later chose to study German as well. The reason she chose to study german was because of Rammstein, one of her top thirty bands.

Despite learning three languages, the songs she tried to write often fell short. The lyrics were no good, or had no real emotion to them. They might be grammatically correct, but that didn't make them better than people who believed in what they wrote or had experienced a lot in their lives. Her sheltered life as the daughter of wealthy parents had limited her ability to write.

It frustrated her, and she took out most of her frustration while drumming instead. She had enough anger for her parents absence, their dislike of her choice to study music and the world in general, to drum for years during her teens. It was her rebellious period, but it did end up making her a great drummer. She didn't care about any other instruments or that she couldn't write towards the end, instead Dana would spend most of her waking time drumming or working out. Practice makes perfect, and she needed the energy she got from working out to be able to drum for longer.

Her brothers both went to universities, to study, but Dana had no real interest in doing so. She was eventually forced to by her parents, but they compromised and she ended up studying music and language again. It wasn't the best university, as her parents didn't want to waste money on such an education, but she did meet her future band members at her new school.

Their lead singer, an older boy who came from a troubled background and wrote most of their songs, which Dana would later edit. The two female guitarists, who were sisters and did basically everything together. The introverted bassist, who didn't speak much, but certainly knew how to play his instrument.

None of them completed their education, as they went on a roadtrip during the summer vacation to tour the country. They were unknown at the start of their trip, but towards the end they had gained a smaller fanbase. A record company offered them a contract when they got back home, and after their first album, which became a hit within the metal community, they went on to tour North America on larger stages. They also toured Europe at one point and were on their second tour of North America, when the outbreak happened.

Her father bought her a Hennesy Venom 1000, when she turned eighteen and had a driver's license. He figured it would fit his daugther, even if her mother didn't approve entirely. It created a much stronger bond between them, as Dana suddenly got an interest in cars. She talked with her father more, and got him to pay for her to learn how to drive more than cars.
She's gotten caught two times for speeding and one time for road rage. She spent some nights in prison because of it, but her family bailed her out every time, and it was lucky that no one ever got badly hurt.

Dana got separated from her band when the outbreak happened, which she suspects might have gotten killed by now. She found an abandoned lorry and used it to escape from Boston, mowing down a shitload of zombies in her wake, while blaring Iron Maiden loudly in the lorries speaker, with open windows. Whoever had owned it before the outbreak had a good taste in music.

The truck eventually broke down, somewhere between Pittsburgh and Columbus. She had little knowledge of how to repair the vehicles she drove, and couldn't do much. She's been making her way back home to California, but it's been going slow since she lost her truck. Most of the items she's currently carrying she's scavenged from dead bodies, except for the headphones, drumsticks and her katana, which she originally bought as a joke to appear more badass. It's of good quality though. The mp3 was a lucky break for her, as her own didn't run on batteries and finding something to charge it with was nigh impossible after the outbreak. Batteries were easier. She thought that the lockpick toolkit she found would come in handy, but still hasn't figured out how to use it properly.

Let me know if you want me to edit something. It was fun to write this sheet anyway.
 

Link_to_Future

Good Dog. Best Friend.
Nov 19, 2009
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Quick question. What sort of zombies are we dealing with? Are they the slow, lumbering kind or the sprinty, yelling kind?
 

Redlin5_v1legacy

Better Red than Dead
Aug 5, 2009
48,836
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Link_to_Future said:
Quick question. What sort of zombies are we dealing with? Are they the slow, lumbering kind or the sprinty, yelling kind?
I'd personally prefer the former although I'm fine with the latter.
 

njrk97

Senior Member
May 30, 2011
248
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We seem to have a good set of characters now, when are we going to begin?
 

KelevraBD

New member
Aug 13, 2012
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Name: Herman Downing
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Personality:
Herman has always been very reserved and shy. Socially awkward, he possesses no leadership qualities and is sometimes barely able to hold conversation. Herman is not brave, and has spent his professional and personal life avoiding danger and risk because of that. More a follower than a leader, Herman will often look to others for guidance and direction. Despite his cowardice, Herman is compassionate and loyal, especially to those precious few that will take the time to get to know him and help him along.

Appearance:
Herman had been very meticulous about his appearance before the Outbreak. He owned multiple copies of the same dress shirt and khaki pants that he had cleaned and pressed every day before going to work. He combed his short black hair the exact same way, and always cleaned his glasses before placing them over his blue eyes. Since the Outbreak, Herman has grown a bit of stubble on his skinny face and has let his hair fall in a shaggy mess atop his head. His suite is gone, replaced by a t-shirt and dark jeans, with running shoes that have seen their fair share of running. Herman is five foot seven inches tall, and Caucasian. He is by all means a small and insignificant man, the sort one passes on the street and completely forgets an hour later.
Notable Skills:
Herman is very talented with computers and other electronics. Fixing and building things like radios, computers, watches, and other trinkets was a hobby of his before the outbreak. He also took the time to jog around his neighborhood on weekends, so his cardiovascular endurance is above average.
Weapons:
One round medium length of steel pipe, bloodied from use.
Gear/Miscellany:
- Small hiking backpack with 2 water bottles, one empty and one full.
- A half dozen snack bars
- Previously used handkerchief/scrap piece of cloth
- Old belt
- Flashlight with 2 spare batteries

Bio:
Before the Outbreak, Herman was a quiet, reserved man with few friends. He lived in St. Louis and worked in the IT department of a small telemarketing firm. He kept to himself, did his job, went home, and worked on his many trinkets. On the weekends he would jog around the neighborhood, giving nervous greetings to anyone he passed on his route.
The closest thing he had to a friend was Conner Jennings, a fellow IT worker. Conner and Herman worked together for many years, and always stuck by each other. Conner was much more confident and capable than Herman, and was always willing to give his friend a helping hand in the social arena. Be it through inviting him to parties, or trying to fix him up with a nice girl, Conner would constantly be looking for ways to help Herman branch out and gain more confidence, though to no avail.
When the Outbreak hit, Conner and Herman stuck together through the initial days. Together they managed to scrape together enough resources to get by, and eventually they found a group willing to help them survive. Conner thrived in the group, and Herman fell into the background, most people within the group believing he couldn?t pull his own weight.
A few weeks after the group formed, they came across a woman and her husband, pushing a shopping cart full of blankets, food, and other resources. The group had been running low on food lately, and the growing panic among the population was beginning to affect people in dramatic ways. Most of the group wanted to kill the couple and take the supplies, but Herman wouldn?t go along. It was then that Conner turned his back on his longtime friend, his desire to survive outweighing his obligation to Herman. Under the pretense of giving them shelter and helping them to find more resources, the group managed to separate the couple from each other and their cart, killing them quietly and taking the resources for themselves. Herman decided shortly after to strike out on his own, not able or willing to face his friend after what he?d been part of.

Since then Herman has tried his best to survive alone, having seen the damage that a large group of survivors is capable of. His strategy of avoiding conflict and being quick and quiet when gathering the resources he needs to live has paid off thus far.
Other Notes:

Not as happy with it as I would have liked, but I want to get a sheet in before things get rolling.
 

njrk97

Senior Member
May 30, 2011
248
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I would also like my character to be introduced by saving one of the other characters when they may be outnumbered or something. Any volunteers?
 

2HF

New member
May 24, 2011
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njrk97 said:
I would also like my character to be introduced by saving one of the other characters when they may be outnumbered or something. Any volunteers?
My character is equipped with a slingshot and 2 screwdrivers. Not exactly optimal for dealing with crowds. I'll volunteer Roberto for saving.
 

njrk97

Senior Member
May 30, 2011
248
2
23
2HF said:
njrk97 said:
I would also like my character to be introduced by saving one of the other characters when they may be outnumbered or something. Any volunteers?
My character is equipped with a slingshot and 2 screwdrivers. Not exactly optimal for dealing with crowds. I'll volunteer Roberto for saving.
Alright then although i don't think my character will hang around for too long only to retrieve his bolts from the bodies he is kinda gonna start of as a loner.
 

Tortilla the Hun

Decidedly on the Fence
May 7, 2011
2,244
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[HEADING=1]Announcement:[/HEADING]
Apologies for the delay, but I'm doing my best to find time betetween work and critiques at the moment. I do hope this doesn't deter any interested onlookers or those who've already put a sheet forward.

I thank you all for your patience.
 

Link_to_Future

Good Dog. Best Friend.
Nov 19, 2009
4,107
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@Redlin: Wait, they don't breathe at all? Then how do they keep making all those scary sounds at me while I'm playing The Walking Dead?

Also, who wants to bet this is going to start on Wednesday?