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Post by 340402309 on Mar 23, 2013 16:17:20 GMT -5
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Post by ZXer0 on Mar 23, 2013 19:35:19 GMT -5
Name: Ray Welks Age: 21 Gender: Male Race: White Personal Appearance: Personality: All around kinda guy, can be a smart ass and a jerk sometimes. Likes to win and works well with others. Weapons: 2 Hockey sticks duct taped together. Other Items: Sports Bag Containing : Roll of Duct tape, 4 pucks, 2 skates, a pair of gloves, Change of clothes and 2 bottles of water. Abilities: High Stamina, Good Hand Eye Cordination. Above Average Strength. Tough. Background History: Ray grew up playing Hockey, it was all he ever was good at. He loved being out on the cool ice just skating around. Ray played for the cities team, he was one of the toughest players on the team, always work hard and delivered big hits and scored goals. Ray was on his way to practice when the outbreak struck the city.
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Post by ZeroSuperHero on Mar 23, 2013 23:44:15 GMT -5
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Post by 340402309 on Mar 25, 2013 17:09:55 GMT -5
Name: Dimitry Petrov Age: 20 Gender: Male Race: Russian Personal Appearance: 5'9, short straight haircut, thick five o'clock shadow, blue eyes, delta jacket, Russian fur hat. Personality: Quiet, intelligent, willful, speaks when needed.... Mostly. Special Abilities: Fast, and agile, moderate strength, sometimes has a way with words. Weapons: Survival knife, with holster on pant leg. Other Items: Survival backpack with, 5 MREs, 2 water bottles, military grade flashlight, 2 packs of batteries,box of 24 9MM rounds. Survival knife and holster. Background History: Dimitry doesn't let much known about himself... His work, his education, or his past life, when the living were all that roamed the earth... He only let's a few things be known. He used to live in Russia, and Russian is his native language, but he learned English as his second language when making the transition into the United States when his mother and father wanted to seek new opportunities in the great country of America. However, he has been jaded by the country since his mother was killed in her own home by a drive by. When the virus hit, Dimitry was doing his daily errands, and had to struggle to make it back home, to his father When he arrived at their apartment building, his father was in the lobby, bitten on his shoulder, holding a "Werewolf" survival knife. Dimitry didn't know what to do, he held his father, telling him to hold on, all his father could do was give him a key, telling him to check his room's closet, the key would fit a panel on the floor, and to be ready, he's seen others turn, and now it is his time, he must know what he has to do. Dimitry refused, until his father slipped from his grasp on life, and... Changed, into one of the undead. Dimitry has had some practice with smaller weapons/arms, but this was more than he could have ever imagined. Plunging the sharp end of the survival knife into his father's undead corpse's neck was something that changed him. He felt evil, and wrong, but it had to be done, for his own survival. His father understood what he would have to do, but that didn't make Dimitry feel anymore at peace. He left his father's remains on the floor, and rushed upstairs, slamming into his apartment, and rushing to open the closet floor panel. Inside were a few items. A military grade flashlight, two packs of batteries for it, 5 MREs, a survival backpack, his father's old weather ready delta jacket, and a box of 24 9mm rounds... But no gun... Dimitry was puzzled at the items his father left behind for him... All these war ready items, but no gun... He knew his father had an MP433 - Grach somewhere, but it was nowhere to be found. Dimitry knew he didn't have time to over-think it, he ran to his room, put on his boots, cargo pants, and his father's delta jacket, and the Russian fur hat his mom had gotten for him a birthday long ago, in Russia... He held the hat in one hand, just taking a moment, to look at it, and remember his parents... His mother killed for no reason, and his father... And what he just had to do to him... Deep down inside Dimitry knew he did what he had to do... But is that what's left of the world now? What we have to do? What happened to the choice, the morals, the ethics of taking a life... He had already seen gunfire, and people being slaughtered in the streets on the way back to his home, and... Well, things had only escalated. He looked at the photo of him, his mother, and his father back in Russia on his nightstand, grabbed the frame, and just stared for a few minutes. Just thinking about memories gone past now. He threw the frame on the ground. Glass shattered, and went everywhere. he stood up, finished securing his clothing, putting his items in the pack, and securing the knife and it's holster on his pant leg. He grabbed the two water bottles he had on his nightstand, and put them in the pack as well, bent over, and picked up his family picture, and placed it in his wallet. All he could do now, was survive. At any cost. Dimitry walked out his bedroom door, looked back, thinking how he was just a child, not that long ago, and he still wasn't sure if he was ready for the world... But one thing was sure. The world was ready for him. He closed his bedroom door, and set out... Other Character Information: Bit of a Russian accent, but clearly understandable.
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Sands
Poster The moster
Posts: 128
PSN ID: SandyJak
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Post by Sands on Mar 27, 2013 0:16:40 GMT -5
Name: Christopher Miles (Miles for short) Age: 29 Gender: Male Race: Caucasion Personal Appearance: 5'8 145Lbs with slightly pale skin. Built well, no body fat, even though thin he's well toned. Cold blue eyes. Dirty blonde hair, eyebrow length, naturally straight but usually messy. Black torn cargo pants, with dark brown combat boots. Black thermal and a thin faded red hoodie over top (Hood up) fixed with a few leather belts over the shoulder and waist for carrying gear on his torso. And a grey one strap backpack. A bit of dirt on his face with a short but full beard that hasn't been trimmed in a while. This is usually covered by his gas mask. Personality: Miles is a quick witted heavy thinker. He isn't the one to spark conversation, but puts in his 2 cents when needed. He works well under pressure, along with good at handling chaotic situations. Doesn't follow his heart or gut. He listens to his mind. Hes cold and calculative, along with what the world has thrown at him has made him a dark person all together. He's stolen, and killed to survive. Special Abilities: Miles is incredibly stealthy. This world quickly taught him how to stay undetected. Very resourceful survivor. Adept guerrilla warfare, and infiltration skills. Along with gun and close quarter combat experience. Weapons: Kukri machete with a wrapped handle and a sharpened butt at the end. Other Items: His gas mask, and misc. scavenged supplies in his back pack including duct tape, para cord, an old wash rag, a Cabineer shake Flashlight, one gas mask filter, a silver Zipo lighter with the word "Libera" engraved on the bottom, and a black finished Beretta 92, but ran out of ammo weeks ago. Background History: Miles grew up in a small town outside of London called Harlow. He joined Her Majesty's Armed Forces right out of high school. He was in the Army life for 8 years, then at the age of 27 he was honorably discharged and contacted by PMCs and shipped to Darfur to defend civilian camps from raiders. He stayed there for 2 years, then when the world ending plague broke out he was shipped to the States with his platoon to help in riot control scenarios. In the short few months he was there he had been flown to several cities for extreme issues. Involving gunning down large groups of people rushing the police, and destroying access routes in and out of the cities. While his group and a couple dozen refugees were in an air convoy over central America, one of the refugees turned. And began a fast spreading epidemic which infected everyone on the plane except a few who jumped out the back. Including Miles, who had ditched his guns and most of his equipment to escape quickly. This day he's the only survivor from the crash. And now lives day after day raiding other groups and buildings for supplies. Miles hasn't held onto anything from his old life and has his eyes fixed on staying alive. By himself he wanders the waste like a ghost. Staying away from other people and creatures that share the Earth with him. Other Character Information: Heavy English accent. [/quote]
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Post by ZeroSuperHero on Mar 29, 2013 23:21:02 GMT -5
Looking good! We will work with what we got for right now.
SIGN UPS WILL CONTINUE UNTIL APRIL 30
The RP will begin tomorrow.
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Post by 340402309 on Mar 30, 2013 0:35:00 GMT -5
Name: Christopher Miles (Miles for short) Age: 29 Gender: Male Race: Caucasion Personal Appearance: 5'8 145Lbs with slightly pale skin. Built well, no body fat, even though thin he's well toned. Cold blue eyes. Dirty blonde hair, eyebrow length, naturally straight but usually messy. Black torn cargo pants, with dark brown combat boots. Black thermal and a thin faded red hoodie over top (Hood up) fixed with a few leather belts over the shoulder and waist for carrying gear on his torso. And a grey one strap backpack. A bit of dirt on his face with a short but full beard that hasn't been trimmed in a while. This is usually covered by his gas mask. Personality: Miles is a quick witted heavy thinker. He isn't the one to spark conversation, but puts in his 2 cents when needed. He works well under pressure, along with good at handling chaotic situations. Doesn't follow his heart or gut. He listens to his mind. Hes cold and calculative, along with what the world has thrown at him has made him a dark person all together. He's stolen, and killed to survive. Special Abilities: Miles is incredibly stealthy. This world quickly taught him how to stay undetected. Very resourceful survivor. Adept guerrilla warfare, and infiltration skills. Along with gun and close quarter combat experience. Weapons: Kukri machete with a wrapped handle and a sharpened butt at the end. Other Items: His gas mask, and misc. scavenged supplies in his back pack including duct tape, para cord, an old wash rag, a Cabineer shake Flashlight, one gas mask filter, a silver Zipo lighter with the word "Libera" engraved on the bottom, and a black finished Beretta 92, but ran out of ammo weeks ago. Background History: Miles grew up in a small town outside of London called Harlow. He joined Her Majesty's Armed Forces right out of high school. He was in the Army life for 8 years, then at the age of 27 he was honorably discharged and contacted by PMCs and shipped to Darfur to defend civilian camps from raiders. He stayed there for 2 years, then when the world ending plague broke out he was shipped to the States with his platoon to help in riot control scenarios. In the short few months he was there he had been flown to several cities for extreme issues. Involving gunning down large groups of people rushing the police, and destroying access routes in and out of the cities. While his group and a couple dozen refugees were in an air convoy over central America, one of the refugees turned. And began a fast spreading epidemic which infected everyone on the plane except a few who jumped out the back. Including Miles, who had ditched his guns and most of his equipment to escape quickly. This day he's the only survivor from the crash. And now lives day after day raiding other groups and buildings for supplies. Miles hasn't held onto anything from his old life and has his eyes fixed on staying alive. By himself he wanders the waste like a ghost. Staying away from other people and creatures that share the Earth with him. Other Character Information: Heavy English accent.
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