@Remipa Awesome Okay, got your message on Discord - there was still an issue under Extras. I went ahead and fixed that wall of green text... The CS below is good to go. Just click view raw to get the code.
Name: Hunter James Monroe
Aliases: Grayjoy
Age: 25
Birthday: June first
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Benton, New York
Location: Outskirts of Buffalo New York
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Scrap Yard, New York State National Guard (Private first class )
Languages: English, poor Russian
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 118 pounds
Build: Wiry
Eyes: Grey/Silver
Hair: Long, dark brown, and poorly groomed
Skin Tone: Hunter is extremely pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scars, cuts, and burns can be seen across both hands, lashings slash marks can be seen across his torso, as well as two bullet wounds, one in his right shoulder, and one just below his rib cage.
Sexuality:
Asexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
Hunter is a complicated character to figure out, when with people he sees as his own he tends to be very kind and polite with them, and is always willing to offer a helping hand. He is always smiling, though at times he he tends to do a slight smirk, as if he is thinking about a really funny joke that only he gets, which is very likely. When he talks, he tends to have a train of thought that can’t stay focused for the life of him unless the situation or whoever he is talking to sets him back on the right track. IN a bad situation he is always ready to protect what he deems as his people
Hunter has several issues with morality that has come up since the apocalypse. The most noticeable, even to people he is on good terms with, is that the things he tends to find funny tend to be pretty messed up. Those things include crushed bodies, fire, explosives, car wrecks, or most things that can be found in Happy time Tree friends. A major issue he has struggled with as a coping mechanism, is that he has a mental switch in his head, that when things start becoming a challenge, he turns off his morality in favor for practicality. He turns himself into a brutal killer, sometimes for the better, sometimes just to keep himself alive at the cost of others.
Habits:
Gripping potential weapons
Ready to get out
Hobbies:
Target practice
Poor music
Fears:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Pre Outbreak Skills:
Post Outbreak Skills:
Current Supplies:
Your First Walker Encounter:
It was getting cold, though Hunter didn’t mind that, he had grown up working outside in the winter time, and in the summer, though winter was easier for him since there were heaters and jackets. Hard work also helped with that. What he minded was his guard unit being activated with no heads up for a mass evacuation. He didn’t even know any of these people, they had dragged him across all of New York state to help with evacuations, and have been moving him non stop. He hated it. This time though things seemed off, this time there were no buses from other towns passing through to the refugee camps. Which meant that their evacuation site was the last on this route, meaning they were the closest to the danger.
That alone made Hunter uneasy, it didn’t help that he was stationed at this town of 7000 people to evacuate, but it was only his squad here, and some local law enforcement who were too busy in town getting people to the school to be moved. So protecting the school was his squad, while 3 of them made sure the roads were cleared with one of the hummers. That left 8 men, one Humvee, and a flatbed. His unit was to spread out, to give the impression that there were more of them then it appeared. Seemed to be working so far. Civilians were operating the buses, they belonged to the district anyways. He could hear his sergeant on the flatbed using his megaphone letting people know to stay calm, and that they needed to not rush, there were enough buses for everyone. That was a lie, there were 20 buses in this district, each one held about 70 people. Do that math, it’s not 7000. Granted, the buses were meant to come back, but if the infected arrived before then they were to halt arriving, and we were to hunker down until a larger force could come in and clear the area.
The lines were long, and the people were scared. God dammit, why didn’t they get more buses? Was it that hard to grab some from successful evacuations? Or were they being used elsewhere and Hunter just got the unlucky batch? Or was the high up just not risking too much, out of fear of losing everything for this little town? Seems like something they would do. “Keep it moving people, calm and steady. One bag per person, carry on size only please.” He muttered that same line again. “There are enough buses for everyone, so please, stay calm, and don't worry.” He hated lying to them, but what was he supposed to do? Lie to them and cause a riot?
Though, if one did break out, his unit was ordered to evacuate, and leave everyone here to fend for themselves. The top brass knew that one squad was not enough to calm a crowd of scared people, and if all else failed, they would rather have up to par squad then a deadly riot with no military survivors. That is when he heard the scream, right in the middle of his thought process his sergeant started shouting. “O'Doyle! McCarther! Guard the buses! Johnson, Miller, get these people to the gym and lock the doors! Anyone who can’t get on a bus get inside! Everyone else, with me!” Hunter chambered his S.A.W. ( Squad automatic weapon ) and followed his sergeant across the crowd, they were screaming now, they were panicked, they were ready to kill to save their lives.
They had landed themselves in the middle of the worst without realizing it, before they knew it people were being attacked by one another, blood was going everywhere, so much screaming. Some even, eating each other. Some with limbs missing, attacking as hard as if they were a annoyed bear. Hunter leveled his weapon and took aim, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Later he would tell his sergeant it was because he had never fired his gun in the field, truth be told, he wasn’t sure if what he was looking at was real or not. He has had issues in the past, but none quite as real as this, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say that it was real. He could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him to shoot, even when the attacker started getting up and walking to Hunter. But he couldn’t do it.
“BANG BANG BANG!” A rifle went off, sending round after round into the attacker, until one eventually clipped her in the head and she dropped. Hunter looked at the person who shot, but in the craziness of the moment he wasn’t sure who it was other then someone in his unit. He just remembered the words “Shoot the dead ones!”. So this was real, it wasn’t in his head.
He took aim with his S.A.W. and fired short burst. There was about a five second rule when it came to firing the thing, but it was hard to keep track of seconds while shooting, so his sergeant had told Hunter a trick to keep pace when firing the belt fed machine gun. “Die Mother Fucker Die. Die Mother Fucker Die!” It worked for the moment, and the timing was close enough that saying it once was enough to get the job done. There was so much going on though he had the gun going almost constantly.
By the end of the night his unit was at half strength, the evacuation had failed, and Hunter was not sure if he had killed a living human or not. All he knew was that they had evacuated a lot less people than planned, and there was a rather high body count.
History Before Outbreak:
Before the outbreak Hunter grew up on a family scrap yard, or “The Compound” as his family called it. On the several dozen acre property lived about a dozen different family members. It was simple, yet physically demanding work. In the summer time it would double as a light farm raising small animals like dogs and chickens, in the winter, it was mostly heavy lifting and machine work to get ready for the warmer months. Another part of the job was keeping aggressive wild life away from his home, due to his family not being in the best of financial states, thy went cheap and easy, shotguns. Easy to use, ton of kick, nothing recovers in that effective range.
At a young age Hunter started seeing things that at first he accepted as normal, but as time went on, and he noticed he was the only one seeing them, he started to become scared. As he aged he was able to ignore them, and eventually try to think logically to determine if what he was seeing was real, or fiction. Mostly, he knew what should be real, and based on reactions of others, he could determine of he was right. Because of this he became very good at hiding his emotions.
In school Hunter struggled to do well, he was good with his hands but in a school environment his attention rarely held. He was able to hold a passing grade, but if asked about he, he would just claim he is an excellent bullshitter, and move on. Due to his lack of being open about what he really felt, he tended to become closeted as a person, which made it harder to work with his family, his parents most of all. In his late teens Hunter would get into arguments that normally ended with something being broken, and at least one person leaving the Compound.
When Hunter turned 19 he ran off to join the army, and found himself in the New York State National Guard reserve. He spent several weeks in basic training, and soon enough he was a fully enlisted soldier. Though due to personal complications, he was attached to a reserve unit, and soon returned home. When he returned, it started with arguments on why he had left, and a decent amount of tears. This time, everyone just huddled up and talked though, and attempted to sort things out. Hunter told his parents he would leave the guard as soon as he got the chance, his unit was activated days later to handle riots and evacuations.
History Since Outbreak:
When the last evacuation Hunter was apart of failed his unit was called back to Buffalo where his company was assigned to protect the local refugee center. Or as Hunter tended to call it, another glorified football field in need of getting better uses out of it. For now, it housed more people then it was originally built for, and had only a couple doors that could still open. Just like the evacuation before, the stadium was eventually overran and the survivors inside were trapped or killed off. By the time Hunter and what was left of his company made it out, with what few civilians they could save, they had a choice, leave the doors open so more survivors could get out, or lock them and prevent well over several hundred infected loose in the area.
Hunter was the one to lock the doors, and bar them shut. After that, him and what survivors were left made their way to the reserve base his unit was supposed to be stationed from originally. Once there the captain on duty determined that with the top brass no longer responding, and the supplies dwindling, that the soldiers were to remove the civilian populace from the base. Despite the protest from the soldiers at the base, Hunter included, they eventually caved in. Determining that there wasn’t enough supplies for them all. The only thing they agreed on was giving them all enough supplies for two days, and some weapons so they could secure their own area for a while. But they would need to fend for themselves.
As expected, this didn’t go well. With there being about 80 soldiers left, and about 1300 civilians, the numbers were drastic. Hunter to this date can’t be sure what happened, but he did figure out something important, a few soldiers with automatic weapons can clear out a large civilian group without weapons rather fast. He also is pretty sure they didn’t kill them all, but he does know for sure that his weapon fired into the crowd, and would have killed them eventually. The Captain called this a success for a list of reasons Hunter didn’t care to hear. He just had the saying “Die Mother Fucker Die” running in his head over and over again.
As the weeks went on, his unit started getting more aggressive to people they met, most soldiers who refused to partake in what was happening either left, or got shot trying to stop it. Hunter just went along because he was too scared to do anything else. After his unit became aggressive enough to shoot people on sight for supplies, there were 26 active members, the captain included. When Hunter eventually snapped, he took his combat knife and a fire axe, and killed all 26 active members in their sleep, or while they took guard duty. Picking them off one at a time. By the time Hunter came back to reality, he wasn’t sure what had happened at first, just that there were a lot of dead people. When he finally understood what he did, he felt guilty about the murders, but more satisfied that they wouldn’t drag him down with them anymore.
As time passed, Hunter found his way to the stadium where he had locked the infected and survivors alike inside, and eventually found enough fuel to light it on fire. Though it took what seemed like days for the thing to actually catch, he felt better knowing that he had destroyed one of the main causes of guilt for him. Next step for him was to go home, though once he arrived there, his family seemed to have vanished from thin air. No one was at the scrap yard, or at other family homes, and there were no bodies to indicate they had died. Dead or undead.
Hunter would eventually make his way south to an old family vacation spot to try and find them. On his way, he had tried to help people, he had robbed from people, he had killed people, and he attempted to justify it all to himself by saying he needed to get to his family. Though it rarely worked. By the time he made it to the vacation spot, there were no signs of his family. He had spent days looking around the area, even stockpiling weapons to attempt to kill out the infected, hoping to get some closer at the very least. All to no luck. What he did find was a Rottweiler who he would become close friends with.
When all his attempts had failed, and he eventually lost purpose, he started making his way north again to go home. He decided that once he got there, he would find a comfortable spot, have a nice good drink, and most likely blow his own brains out. He wondered if he would actually go through with it if given the chance, though Izibell the Rotty would make it hard. He needed some purpose, and going home was the best one he had to pick from.
Character Quote:
Theme Song:
Low, By Cracker
How Many Walkers Have You Killed: Hunter does a short sarcastic laugh. “That’s an odd question, directly I don't think I could have counted. Indirectly… Probably enough to be called insane.”
How Many People Have You Killed: "Again, directly, I couldn’t answer that accurately. Some of the time is fuzzy, and the early says were so crazy I couldn’t tell you. Indirectly, enough to be problem for those who don’t understand context."
Why: “Context, great! Fuck.. no one ever asks why. The first time was because when my gun went off into the crowd of undead, I still can't be sure that all of them were undead. Even to this day. The next time because someone needed to lock the door, because if one of us didn’t do it, everyone that had survived so far would be dead. Not just those still inside. From that point on, it was a matter of determining who is good for the world, and who isn’t. I carried out justice that no one had the guts to, and I solved it from there. No, that’s a lie… I’ve done things… I told myself I needed to, but did I really?”
Anything Else:
Hunter knows he isn't a leader, he knows he depends on others to do the thinking, and he considers himself a tool, though he will call out anyone who things they are leading wrong.
*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.
Hunter James Monroe
Character Summary
Name: Hunter James Monroe
Aliases: Grayjoy
Age: 25
Birthday: June first
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birthplace: Benton, New York
Location: Outskirts of Buffalo New York
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: N/A
Occupation: Scrap Yard, New York State National Guard (Private first class )
Languages: English, poor Russian
Appearance
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 118 pounds
Build: Wiry
Eyes: Grey/Silver
Hair: Long, dark brown, and poorly groomed
Skin Tone: Hunter is extremely pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scars, cuts, and burns can be seen across both hands, lashings slash marks can be seen across his torso, as well as two bullet wounds, one in his right shoulder, and one just below his rib cage.
Psychology
Hard working * Shady * cool headed * Twisted humor * Practical * Morally challenged
Sexuality:
Asexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
Hunter is a complicated character to figure out, when with people he sees as his own he tends to be very kind and polite with them, and is always willing to offer a helping hand. He is always smiling, though at times he he tends to do a slight smirk, as if he is thinking about a really funny joke that only he gets, which is very likely. When he talks, he tends to have a train of thought that can’t stay focused for the life of him unless the situation or whoever he is talking to sets him back on the right track. IN a bad situation he is always ready to protect what he deems as his people
Hunter has several issues with morality that has come up since the apocalypse. The most noticeable, even to people he is on good terms with, is that the things he tends to find funny tend to be pretty messed up. Those things include crushed bodies, fire, explosives, car wrecks, or most things that can be found in Happy time Tree friends. A major issue he has struggled with as a coping mechanism, is that he has a mental switch in his head, that when things start becoming a challenge, he turns off his morality in favor for practicality. He turns himself into a brutal killer, sometimes for the better, sometimes just to keep himself alive at the cost of others.
Habits:
Gripping potential weapons
Ready to get out
Hobbies:
Target practice
Poor music
Fears:
- Crossing that blurry moral line.
- People in general
- Being alone
- Telling reality from his own thoughts
- Losing his family
Likes:
- Staying in control
- Being around people
- Bullets.
- Animals in general
- Sweets.
- Explosions and fire.
Dislikes:
- Taxes
- Making moral choices
- People being idiots.
- Summer
- People who think they are better then him.
- decaffeinated coffee.
Cards On The Table
Pre Outbreak Skills:
- Scavenging
- Shotguns
- Improvised engineering
- Automatic weapons
- Animal friend
Post Outbreak Skills:
- Hand to hand combat
- Stealth
- Pistols
- Axeing skill
- Basic explosives
- Basic first aid
- Situational awareness
Current Supplies:
- Current Clothing - Hunter is wearing heavy cargo pants, a t-shirt, a hoodie lined with mesh and ducktape, combat boots, a scarf, worn fingerless gloves, a belt with several pocket compartments on it, a medium sized backpack, and a dark camouflage ball cap.
- As a spare outfit he also has a warn set of camouflage fatigues in his bag.
- Izibell the Rottweiler
- About a day and a half of water. No food.
- Duct tape, because it’s always nice to have.
- A decent quality fuel-less lighter.
- Twine, a lot of twine. It makes a great improvised fuse in a pinch. Also, never know when someone needs to be tied up, or something. Either way, options are great.
- Ammo, 2 full clips of 30 round 5.56 NATO for the M4, and a box of about 14 bullets. 1 full clip of 7 rounds for the 1911, and 23 spare bullets crammed into the same box as the 5.56 NATO. 30 20 gauge shotgun shells.
History
Your First Walker Encounter:
It was getting cold, though Hunter didn’t mind that, he had grown up working outside in the winter time, and in the summer, though winter was easier for him since there were heaters and jackets. Hard work also helped with that. What he minded was his guard unit being activated with no heads up for a mass evacuation. He didn’t even know any of these people, they had dragged him across all of New York state to help with evacuations, and have been moving him non stop. He hated it. This time though things seemed off, this time there were no buses from other towns passing through to the refugee camps. Which meant that their evacuation site was the last on this route, meaning they were the closest to the danger.
That alone made Hunter uneasy, it didn’t help that he was stationed at this town of 7000 people to evacuate, but it was only his squad here, and some local law enforcement who were too busy in town getting people to the school to be moved. So protecting the school was his squad, while 3 of them made sure the roads were cleared with one of the hummers. That left 8 men, one Humvee, and a flatbed. His unit was to spread out, to give the impression that there were more of them then it appeared. Seemed to be working so far. Civilians were operating the buses, they belonged to the district anyways. He could hear his sergeant on the flatbed using his megaphone letting people know to stay calm, and that they needed to not rush, there were enough buses for everyone. That was a lie, there were 20 buses in this district, each one held about 70 people. Do that math, it’s not 7000. Granted, the buses were meant to come back, but if the infected arrived before then they were to halt arriving, and we were to hunker down until a larger force could come in and clear the area.
The lines were long, and the people were scared. God dammit, why didn’t they get more buses? Was it that hard to grab some from successful evacuations? Or were they being used elsewhere and Hunter just got the unlucky batch? Or was the high up just not risking too much, out of fear of losing everything for this little town? Seems like something they would do. “Keep it moving people, calm and steady. One bag per person, carry on size only please.” He muttered that same line again. “There are enough buses for everyone, so please, stay calm, and don't worry.” He hated lying to them, but what was he supposed to do? Lie to them and cause a riot?
Though, if one did break out, his unit was ordered to evacuate, and leave everyone here to fend for themselves. The top brass knew that one squad was not enough to calm a crowd of scared people, and if all else failed, they would rather have up to par squad then a deadly riot with no military survivors. That is when he heard the scream, right in the middle of his thought process his sergeant started shouting. “O'Doyle! McCarther! Guard the buses! Johnson, Miller, get these people to the gym and lock the doors! Anyone who can’t get on a bus get inside! Everyone else, with me!” Hunter chambered his S.A.W. ( Squad automatic weapon ) and followed his sergeant across the crowd, they were screaming now, they were panicked, they were ready to kill to save their lives.
They had landed themselves in the middle of the worst without realizing it, before they knew it people were being attacked by one another, blood was going everywhere, so much screaming. Some even, eating each other. Some with limbs missing, attacking as hard as if they were a annoyed bear. Hunter leveled his weapon and took aim, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Later he would tell his sergeant it was because he had never fired his gun in the field, truth be told, he wasn’t sure if what he was looking at was real or not. He has had issues in the past, but none quite as real as this, but he still couldn’t bring himself to say that it was real. He could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him to shoot, even when the attacker started getting up and walking to Hunter. But he couldn’t do it.
“BANG BANG BANG!” A rifle went off, sending round after round into the attacker, until one eventually clipped her in the head and she dropped. Hunter looked at the person who shot, but in the craziness of the moment he wasn’t sure who it was other then someone in his unit. He just remembered the words “Shoot the dead ones!”. So this was real, it wasn’t in his head.
He took aim with his S.A.W. and fired short burst. There was about a five second rule when it came to firing the thing, but it was hard to keep track of seconds while shooting, so his sergeant had told Hunter a trick to keep pace when firing the belt fed machine gun. “Die Mother Fucker Die. Die Mother Fucker Die!” It worked for the moment, and the timing was close enough that saying it once was enough to get the job done. There was so much going on though he had the gun going almost constantly.
By the end of the night his unit was at half strength, the evacuation had failed, and Hunter was not sure if he had killed a living human or not. All he knew was that they had evacuated a lot less people than planned, and there was a rather high body count.
History Before Outbreak:
Before the outbreak Hunter grew up on a family scrap yard, or “The Compound” as his family called it. On the several dozen acre property lived about a dozen different family members. It was simple, yet physically demanding work. In the summer time it would double as a light farm raising small animals like dogs and chickens, in the winter, it was mostly heavy lifting and machine work to get ready for the warmer months. Another part of the job was keeping aggressive wild life away from his home, due to his family not being in the best of financial states, thy went cheap and easy, shotguns. Easy to use, ton of kick, nothing recovers in that effective range.
At a young age Hunter started seeing things that at first he accepted as normal, but as time went on, and he noticed he was the only one seeing them, he started to become scared. As he aged he was able to ignore them, and eventually try to think logically to determine if what he was seeing was real, or fiction. Mostly, he knew what should be real, and based on reactions of others, he could determine of he was right. Because of this he became very good at hiding his emotions.
In school Hunter struggled to do well, he was good with his hands but in a school environment his attention rarely held. He was able to hold a passing grade, but if asked about he, he would just claim he is an excellent bullshitter, and move on. Due to his lack of being open about what he really felt, he tended to become closeted as a person, which made it harder to work with his family, his parents most of all. In his late teens Hunter would get into arguments that normally ended with something being broken, and at least one person leaving the Compound.
When Hunter turned 19 he ran off to join the army, and found himself in the New York State National Guard reserve. He spent several weeks in basic training, and soon enough he was a fully enlisted soldier. Though due to personal complications, he was attached to a reserve unit, and soon returned home. When he returned, it started with arguments on why he had left, and a decent amount of tears. This time, everyone just huddled up and talked though, and attempted to sort things out. Hunter told his parents he would leave the guard as soon as he got the chance, his unit was activated days later to handle riots and evacuations.
History Since Outbreak:
When the last evacuation Hunter was apart of failed his unit was called back to Buffalo where his company was assigned to protect the local refugee center. Or as Hunter tended to call it, another glorified football field in need of getting better uses out of it. For now, it housed more people then it was originally built for, and had only a couple doors that could still open. Just like the evacuation before, the stadium was eventually overran and the survivors inside were trapped or killed off. By the time Hunter and what was left of his company made it out, with what few civilians they could save, they had a choice, leave the doors open so more survivors could get out, or lock them and prevent well over several hundred infected loose in the area.
Hunter was the one to lock the doors, and bar them shut. After that, him and what survivors were left made their way to the reserve base his unit was supposed to be stationed from originally. Once there the captain on duty determined that with the top brass no longer responding, and the supplies dwindling, that the soldiers were to remove the civilian populace from the base. Despite the protest from the soldiers at the base, Hunter included, they eventually caved in. Determining that there wasn’t enough supplies for them all. The only thing they agreed on was giving them all enough supplies for two days, and some weapons so they could secure their own area for a while. But they would need to fend for themselves.
As expected, this didn’t go well. With there being about 80 soldiers left, and about 1300 civilians, the numbers were drastic. Hunter to this date can’t be sure what happened, but he did figure out something important, a few soldiers with automatic weapons can clear out a large civilian group without weapons rather fast. He also is pretty sure they didn’t kill them all, but he does know for sure that his weapon fired into the crowd, and would have killed them eventually. The Captain called this a success for a list of reasons Hunter didn’t care to hear. He just had the saying “Die Mother Fucker Die” running in his head over and over again.
As the weeks went on, his unit started getting more aggressive to people they met, most soldiers who refused to partake in what was happening either left, or got shot trying to stop it. Hunter just went along because he was too scared to do anything else. After his unit became aggressive enough to shoot people on sight for supplies, there were 26 active members, the captain included. When Hunter eventually snapped, he took his combat knife and a fire axe, and killed all 26 active members in their sleep, or while they took guard duty. Picking them off one at a time. By the time Hunter came back to reality, he wasn’t sure what had happened at first, just that there were a lot of dead people. When he finally understood what he did, he felt guilty about the murders, but more satisfied that they wouldn’t drag him down with them anymore.
As time passed, Hunter found his way to the stadium where he had locked the infected and survivors alike inside, and eventually found enough fuel to light it on fire. Though it took what seemed like days for the thing to actually catch, he felt better knowing that he had destroyed one of the main causes of guilt for him. Next step for him was to go home, though once he arrived there, his family seemed to have vanished from thin air. No one was at the scrap yard, or at other family homes, and there were no bodies to indicate they had died. Dead or undead.
Hunter would eventually make his way south to an old family vacation spot to try and find them. On his way, he had tried to help people, he had robbed from people, he had killed people, and he attempted to justify it all to himself by saying he needed to get to his family. Though it rarely worked. By the time he made it to the vacation spot, there were no signs of his family. He had spent days looking around the area, even stockpiling weapons to attempt to kill out the infected, hoping to get some closer at the very least. All to no luck. What he did find was a Rottweiler who he would become close friends with.
When all his attempts had failed, and he eventually lost purpose, he started making his way north again to go home. He decided that once he got there, he would find a comfortable spot, have a nice good drink, and most likely blow his own brains out. He wondered if he would actually go through with it if given the chance, though Izibell the Rotty would make it hard. He needed some purpose, and going home was the best one he had to pick from.
Extras
Character Quote:
- "Have you ever seen a belt fed machine gun rip apart a human body? I have, and let me tell you, it's funnier then you might think."
- "I find myself in this position at times, where I am lost. For the most part I can solve it with a good task to work on, otherwise my mind tends to go to places I would rather not think about."
- "This Is My BOOM Stick!"
- "Have you ever noticed that in movies where people die it's much less emotional then when dogs died? A human dies people shrug it off, a dog dies, everyone loses their shit. Truth be told I am totally one of those people."
Theme Song:
Low, By Cracker
How Many Walkers Have You Killed: Hunter does a short sarcastic laugh. “That’s an odd question, directly I don't think I could have counted. Indirectly… Probably enough to be called insane.”
How Many People Have You Killed: "Again, directly, I couldn’t answer that accurately. Some of the time is fuzzy, and the early says were so crazy I couldn’t tell you. Indirectly, enough to be problem for those who don’t understand context."
Why: “Context, great! Fuck.. no one ever asks why. The first time was because when my gun went off into the crowd of undead, I still can't be sure that all of them were undead. Even to this day. The next time because someone needed to lock the door, because if one of us didn’t do it, everyone that had survived so far would be dead. Not just those still inside. From that point on, it was a matter of determining who is good for the world, and who isn’t. I carried out justice that no one had the guts to, and I solved it from there. No, that’s a lie… I’ve done things… I told myself I needed to, but did I really?”
Anything Else:
Hunter knows he isn't a leader, he knows he depends on others to do the thinking, and he considers himself a tool, though he will call out anyone who things they are leading wrong.
*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.
