I suppose I'll just leave this CS here.

[center]
[b]Name:[/b] 
Jed Jefferson Jr.

[b]Age:[/b] 
25

[b]Personality:[/b] 
He's not exactly a people-person, but he's much less of a walker-person. He wasn't burdened with an overabundance of education, but he has been taught all of the skills Ma and Pa believed he needed to know. He's been hunting game ever since he could hold a rifle, and enjoys the constant open-season that this apocalypse has provided. He has a sick sense of humor when it comes to the walkers, who he has dubbed 'Biters'. He is a bit childish, and doesn't quite seem to understand the gravity of what is happening.

[b]Appearance:[/b] 
[img=http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/redneck-man-6146901.jpg]
Hooray for stock photos.

[b]Background:[/b] 
Born into a family of questionable ancestry, 'Triple J' had been raised upon the morals that his family held high. These morals did not include education, or anything so silly and worthless. No, he was taught to hunt, fish, drive trucks, and drink beer. Kansas city was a nice place, his folks had an old country house, where he has lived... until the accident happened. But that all happened later in life. As Jed grew up, he had few friends, as there were few people to befriend. His best friend was his brother, Jimmy Jefferson. No one was a better friend than Jimmy.
Then, one day, it happened. It had been a few weeks since the radio had blared out that warning, something about some sort of sickness hitting a lot of cities, then the radio stations went out, all static. It was a little curious, but they mostly ignored it. On that fateful day, a man, all alone, stumbled around, before passing out on the dirt. Jed and Jimmy went to help him, and brought him back home. Paw tried to patch him up, said something about a bite- must've been some mad dog or something.
When the man woke up, Jed, Paw and Jimmy were there. But when he woke up, he wasn't quite right. He tried biting Jimmy, but we managed to keep him off, for a minute. The man managed to pin down Jimmy, and ripped right through him, stuffing as much as he could in his mouth. At that point, Paw grabbed his trusty 12 gauge, and blew the mans head right off. There was nothing they could do for Jimmy but bury him.
They had believed that to be the last of it. But one day, more of them came. Jed and Paw were much more careful, and by virtue of shotguns, overcame the horde. The next day, they had visitors. Living ones. Suited up in camo, toting automatic weaponry. By some miracle, Jed was able to survive, hiding away in the barn, but the same could not be said for Maw and Paw. When the military left, Maw and Paw were corpses, riddled with bullets. Jed learned the hard way about how his so called 'Biters' are made, and how only headshots kill. Jed had to put the final bullet in his Paw.
Jed left then, a truck full of food, a belly full of beer, and a shotgun full of revenge. He sought out for his Aunt and Uncle, who had left life in the country, to move to the city of Denver. On his trip, Jed met up with a group of survivors, who filled him in on what was going on. He stayed with them for awhile, until one went AWOL, and the whole group broke apart. He moved on, having not found his Uncle. He had one last hope, his cousins cabin, out in the mountains of Colorado. 

[b]Weapon of Choice:[/b] 
He has three. A simple hunting knife, gifted to him by his father at a young age. His trusty axe, which he uses to chop down anything from doors to Biters. Second, his Remington M870, which he tends to use sparingly, as ammo isn't exactly plentiful. 

[b]Hometown:[/b] 
Kansas City, Missouri
[/center]