Home[ CHARACTER SUBMISSION Because Ben is lazy ]
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[ CHARACTER SUBMISSION Because Ben is lazy ]
Namimi Mon Sep 05, 2011 7:07 pm
[TIME FOR A DIFFERENT TYPE OF SUBMISSION.. ]
Ivanna Roschin
Mid – Mid-thirties
5’7”
Female
Russian
-x-
“…When I first stepped foot in this country, it was crowded to the brim. No city ever was empty, no station was ever only playing static,” her words left her lips, meeting no one’s ears but her own. As of late, talking to herself had become a habit – with the events of the past year, she was lucky to see a stable person every few months. The tall woman shrugged her shoulders, a quiet curse of ‘ебать’ leaving her lips. Morals… had no meaning, without anyone around.
Her eyes, squinted in an attempt to protect them from the wind and blowing sand, gazed hopelessly into the horizon. As far as she could see, there was… sand. Dirt. A land devoid of trees, water, and any buildings still standing. All of this occurred when.. they happened. A freak incident, it was said to be at first. That slowly.. grew out of control. Ten years later, this was the aftermath. The problem.. still had yet to be cured.
Despite the blisters on her feet, her worn down soles, her aching legs, she continued to walk ahead. Her hand felt for her Makarov 9X18 Bulgarian on her belt. Onward...
Ivanna Roschin
Mid – Mid-thirties
5’7”
Female
Russian
-x-
“…When I first stepped foot in this country, it was crowded to the brim. No city ever was empty, no station was ever only playing static,” her words left her lips, meeting no one’s ears but her own. As of late, talking to herself had become a habit – with the events of the past year, she was lucky to see a stable person every few months. The tall woman shrugged her shoulders, a quiet curse of ‘ебать’ leaving her lips. Morals… had no meaning, without anyone around.
Her eyes, squinted in an attempt to protect them from the wind and blowing sand, gazed hopelessly into the horizon. As far as she could see, there was… sand. Dirt. A land devoid of trees, water, and any buildings still standing. All of this occurred when.. they happened. A freak incident, it was said to be at first. That slowly.. grew out of control. Ten years later, this was the aftermath. The problem.. still had yet to be cured.
Despite the blisters on her feet, her worn down soles, her aching legs, she continued to walk ahead. Her hand felt for her Makarov 9X18 Bulgarian on her belt. Onward...
Namimi- FUCKING WRIGGLING PINK MONKEY
- Posts : 3
Join date : 2011-09-05
Age : 32
Location : Outside your window ヾ(＾∇＾)
Re: [ CHARACTER SUBMISSION Because Ben is lazy ]
OfficerCrash Mon Sep 05, 2011 9:25 pm
Lee Davison
Late twenties
6'0"
Male
American
If ever there was a representative for adaptation, it'd look something like this man. Merely a stripling of a man when the outbreaks started, he has come to love the world as it has become. Long ago, only a simple farmhand, clutching a battered old Remington astride a skittish mare, now the senior most scavenger of the tiny settlement known only as Highway 6.
He's got a decent racket set up. Occasionally travelers pass through and attempt to purchase a horse. Most have no clue how to actually ride one. He'll give them Bronx. They'll ride out into the wastes, lose control, thrown to the ground, sometimes with broken necks. Ol' Bronx trots right on home. Lee ain't proud of his little trick, but sometimes what they get off the travelers is the only thing keeping Highway 6 alive.
Survivor. Above all else, Lee survives. Morals, safety, familiarity; all have been sacrificed at one time or another for the sake of his adopted family. Those bonds, forged by their struggle for survival, run deeper than any bloodties. A man with something to lose on a world with nothing left. Irony, thy name is Davison.
Late twenties
6'0"
Male
American
If ever there was a representative for adaptation, it'd look something like this man. Merely a stripling of a man when the outbreaks started, he has come to love the world as it has become. Long ago, only a simple farmhand, clutching a battered old Remington astride a skittish mare, now the senior most scavenger of the tiny settlement known only as Highway 6.
He's got a decent racket set up. Occasionally travelers pass through and attempt to purchase a horse. Most have no clue how to actually ride one. He'll give them Bronx. They'll ride out into the wastes, lose control, thrown to the ground, sometimes with broken necks. Ol' Bronx trots right on home. Lee ain't proud of his little trick, but sometimes what they get off the travelers is the only thing keeping Highway 6 alive.
Survivor. Above all else, Lee survives. Morals, safety, familiarity; all have been sacrificed at one time or another for the sake of his adopted family. Those bonds, forged by their struggle for survival, run deeper than any bloodties. A man with something to lose on a world with nothing left. Irony, thy name is Davison.
OfficerCrash- Admin
- Posts : 86
Join date : 2011-09-04
Age : 31
Location : Dayton, Ohio -
[Champ Kinney]
ThatSladeKid Wed Oct 12, 2011 9:28 am
Champ Kinney
26
5'8"
Male
Canadian
He cuts a striking figure, tall and gangly with olive eyes and a sun-spotted complexion. Partially dreaded blond hair sloping over his crown in one direction, shaved clean on the other side. An imitation of warpaint streaked across his cheeks, eyes often hidden by the binding frames of his dirty goggles. There seems to be only one lens, lost somewhere through the years. He carries most of his provisions in a ratty camouflage backpack, rifle slung over one shoulder.
Solitude has always been his calling, but he's never been quite alone. He has had the company of Ace, his faithful canine companion, for nearly ten years. Other than his guardian Siberian husky, he can often be found flocked by stray dogs. Feeding and breeding is a chore, but it is one that pays off when it comes to his own sustanence. He seems high strung, paranoid, and he is. Champ is rather unstable but firmly believes he has a grasp on his sanity.
Once a cheeky youngster in and out of foster homes, survival was never a new concept for Champ. Living for some years in the remote Canadian tundra on luck and sacrifices, our eremitic young friend has emerged from hiding to make a pilgrimmage to a place he considers sacred -- the birthplace of his cherished dog, Ace.
26
5'8"
Male
Canadian
He cuts a striking figure, tall and gangly with olive eyes and a sun-spotted complexion. Partially dreaded blond hair sloping over his crown in one direction, shaved clean on the other side. An imitation of warpaint streaked across his cheeks, eyes often hidden by the binding frames of his dirty goggles. There seems to be only one lens, lost somewhere through the years. He carries most of his provisions in a ratty camouflage backpack, rifle slung over one shoulder.
Solitude has always been his calling, but he's never been quite alone. He has had the company of Ace, his faithful canine companion, for nearly ten years. Other than his guardian Siberian husky, he can often be found flocked by stray dogs. Feeding and breeding is a chore, but it is one that pays off when it comes to his own sustanence. He seems high strung, paranoid, and he is. Champ is rather unstable but firmly believes he has a grasp on his sanity.
Once a cheeky youngster in and out of foster homes, survival was never a new concept for Champ. Living for some years in the remote Canadian tundra on luck and sacrifices, our eremitic young friend has emerged from hiding to make a pilgrimmage to a place he considers sacred -- the birthplace of his cherished dog, Ace.
Last edited by ThatSladeKid on Wed Oct 12, 2011 9:33 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : I'm bringin' sexy back, yeeeeuh. Them other boys don't know how to accct~)
ThatSladeKid- Fidgetey Bopper
- Posts : 16
Join date : 2011-09-07
Age : 30
Location : North Carolina -
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