[CHAR] Deadland Wasteland: //START Recruitment.exe [OPEN - APPLY]

[Syben]

• T H E C A S T •

Elijah "The Wolf" Shuppert — by Aeonumbra

Fredrick Pierre Niedermayer — by Andreyich

Garsin Folkvar — by Jollan

Geoffrey Geovanni Banks — by Rilla

In Memoriam

Elizabeth "Liv" Themis — by Innis
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Thomas Croft — by JackHasAShotgun
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Alex TreVayne — by Rawk
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Daniel Pope — by Subject Zero
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Larisa "Lyssa" Friedrich — by Ever
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Hannah & Amanda Sinclair — by Force and Fury
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}
Cassandra Teresa Pacheco — by Rockette
^{*M.I.A : Last seen with the Federal Way convoy*}

[Syben]

Basic Information

Name:

Elijah "The Wolf" Shuppert

Age:

28

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Male

Height:

5'10

Weight:

130lbs

Eye Color:

Dark Brown

Hair Color:

Brown

Physical Disabilities:

• Missing both hands

Physical Identifiers

• Mechanical hands (Black with silver accents)
• A handful of important tattoos
• Small scars here and there
• Large, jagged machete scar across his back

Appearance:

Elijah is of an average height and build that has been sculpted through a rigorous regime of exercise from his time serving his country. He's not a bodybuilder by any means, but he is athletic and toned. He keeps his hair cut short and scruffy, but lets his facial hair grow out (he shaves his lip though, he's not one for mustaches).

He has a bit of an awkward, if not charming, face. A narrow, pointed chin coupled with a sharp nose and large ears have given him a face few could come to say they love, even with a smile worthy of a chewing gum commercial. Most people take him for Spanish or Brazilian decent despite his white, if slightly tanned, complexion.

His arms end right after his wrists, but the metal cuff that keeps his cybernetic hands attached actually encircles the wrist itself. Other than those permanent accessories, Eli can typically be found in some sort of tank-top or plane shirt and army fatigues combo. He also usually wears thick gloves over his hand out in the field, or when doing other labor.

Biography

Elijah wasn't anything too incredible growing up, in fact he was perfectly mediocre. Got into a little trouble as a kid, got decent grades most of the time, had some friends, couple of school crushes, some broken bones—The basic childhood. After high school, he enlisted in the army. Not because his father did it, in fact his father was a baker, and not because he felt compelled to serve his country. It just seemed like the smartest financial option to him. Which, he was told, was why a lot of people signed up. He skipped the extra schooling and, after completing his basic training, opted to go right into grunt work.

Eli was a hard and dedicated worker. He was an above average soldier, or so the tests and training told him. Much to the bane of his anxiety, he wouldn't actually be deployed overseas for almost two more years—Instead it was just teased and hinted at. But, eventually he was deployed and thus began the Second Korean Conflict, or "2.K.C" as most in Eli's troop called it. He spent a few years away from home, with little in the way of leave or a day off from trying to fight and survive in the Korean jungles.

As tensions rose and escalated into The Eastern Conflict, it seemed the world hung upon the precipice of a third world war after all these years. The American government took action, and for his all of his hard work, Eli found himself in a unit that didn't officially exist. Once more he was thrust back in training of a different sorts. The unit had to work together fluidly, with precision and speed, there was no room for errors. Failure likely meant death or gruesome torture, for which there would be no rescue from. If they were caught, the world couldn't know who backed them. Why? Because they were assigned to do things like: Assassinate the President of the People's Republic of China, a major proprietor in the continual escalation of eastern conflicts.

Official reports say the Chinese President was victim to a horrendous and unfortunate accident resulting in the catastrophic failure of his vehicle.

Eli worked alongside this group for his remaining time in the military, receiving dead drops and operating deep within foreign borders, surviving in the wilderness or hiding within their cities. Quietly eliminating the opposition in an attempt to "end rising hostilities", and perhaps help America prosper as a fortunate result. At least, until things started erupt back home. It was shortly after the first reports of the riots when Eli and his squad were called back to the Homeland. Their skills were needed on their home soil, a thought that left a sour taste in Eli's mouth.

Eli took part in ending the riots. He did a lot of things that, looking back on, he's not entirely proud of (some of them still haunt him). Especially with his involvement in the Tucson riots, which was a gruesome and violent affair. He was then sent to Sacramento, California, for a month to ensure things there didn't escalate with the recent spree of murders. Once things started to quiet down Elijah was given two months leave, before being sent back out overseas.

Finally, almost a year later, the risings tensions seemed to relax a bit, Especially with the recent break through with the "Miracle Gene" and the American W.D.P program. However, the American government is a suspicious bunch. They wanted Eli to come home and help train more operatives like him. Officially he'd be marked down as a Special Unit, there would be no connections to him or the unit he was apart of.

The same night he stepped off the plane, Eli found himself in the midst of an apocalypse.

Extended Information

Residence:

Two-story townhouse in Refuge, just behind the Command Center.

Profession:

First Captain of the Refuge Special Operatives

Aligned Faction:

Refuge Survivors

Relatives:

• Aiyana Shuppert: Sister (24) Alive
  • Teacher: She works with ages 12-17 to teach general education and survival skills.
• Joanna Shuppert: Sister (22) Alive
  • Recycler: Breaks down items into raw components and materials.

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Heckler & Koch HK416 Assault Rifle:
  
  • Under-barrel flashlight
  • Reflex dot sight
  • Assault foregrip
  • 3-point side sling
  • 30 round magazine
• Beretta M9:
  
  • Belt holster
  • 17 round magazine
• Tactical Knives (2x):
  
  • Forearm sheath
  • Boot sheath

Equipment

• Backpack, Leg-mounted canteen pouch, Road Flares, Protective Goggles, Tactical Vest, Long range comms radio, fragmentation grenades, small bolt cutters, rations, can-opener, frying pan, sleeping roll, tarp, lighter fluid, and a collapsible crowbar.

Miscellaneous

• A picture of his sisters, tin of cigarettes, Zippo with a low relief, howling wolf, and a book

Trade Skills:
• First Recon
The majority of Elijah's military career was spent serving as officially titled as First Recon, on paper. Unofficially he was part of a glorified infiltration unit. Typically they were tasked with gathering information, and prioritizing the capture or liberation of key assets or the quiet elimination of high priority targets. Often times this meant roughing it and learning to survive in foreign lands, with little to no support. Hell, officially his squadron didn't even exist.

This kind of work has left him with pretty good knowledge on how to survive in the wilds, which much of the current world has become. He's no professional by any means, but he does have a wide range of skills he's developed. Additionally, he's an apt marksman and is an efficient hand-to-hand combatant. He's combat oriented, ready to lead, and claims he has long since made peace with his demons.

• The Regime's Routine
Day in, and day out, certain practices and procedures were drilled into Elijah's head until they were more than just second nature, they were a part of who he was as a person. Do your push-ups, lube your gun, service your vehicle, rub out a quickie, do your pull-ups, and so forth. Thanks to this trained mentality, Elijah keeps himself in great shape. He has strength and stamina, and a decent speed to him as well. He also has knowledge of weapon maintenance and, to some degree, vehicle maintenance.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Talents
  • Has the patience to wait for a stone to erode
  • Natural sketch artist
• Hobbies
  • Loves to read (has a secret love for romance novels)
  • Enjoys drinking, smoking, and a pretty woman on his arm

Limitations:
• P.T.S.D
Post-traumatic Stress Disorder is so common among those who served, or are serving, that it's basically a stereotypical trait. Nobody's surprised to hear a soldier say they suffer from PTSD, so Elijah doesn't like to talk about it. He likes to think that it will just go away eventually. His two prominent symptoms are hyperarousal and re-experiencing symptoms.

• Hand-me-downs:
Ah, puns. Elijah has a pretty positive outlook on things, but that doesn't change the fact that he has a pair of pre-era mechanical hands. Unfortunately, his knowledge on cybernetics-engineering is limited. He has to rely on others to fix and maintain them. Getting the internal components (which are protected by an outer shell) wet makes his hands either go haywire, or simply burn out. Receiving a powerful electric shock can also produce the same effect (the outer shell is insulated to prevent lesser shocks).

👁️• Paranormal Panic:
When there's something strange in your neighborhood, apparently Eli isn't the guy to call. Eli's a capable guy, in normal situations. But when it comes to the unnatural, impossible, and.. well, paranormal he freaks out. Which, ironically, is a natural reaction. It's not like he's never believed in the occasional ghost, but some of the shit he's seen recently left him with a case of broken nerves.

[Innis]

Basic Information

Name:

Elizabeth (Liv) Themis

Age:

22

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Female

Height:

5’5

Weight:

116 lbs

Eye Color:

Green

Hair Color:

Black

Physical Disabilities:

• Missing left arm to the shoulder socket

Physical Identifiers

• Left arm is bionic
• Right arm, neck, and shoulder tattooed in a repeating design
• Has a disconcerting habit of mumbling to herself

Appearance:

Liv is a small woman with a runner’s frame: lithe and with little muscle. Her most prominent characteristic for most is her left arm which is completely cybernetic to the shoulder. This high-functioning model can implement a few useful tools, but needs constant maintenance. Liv is almost always found in sleeveless clothing because of the difficulty in getting her metal arm into sleeves and because of the nature of her work as a mechanic. This choice in clothing also shows off the sleeve of tribal tattoos on her right arm that curl up her neck and right shoulder blade. The grease monkey is hardly ever found in a state of real cleanliness, and her hands and fingernails are permanently stained with the fluids from the machines she spends most of her time working on. Liv’s thick black hair is usually found pulled up and out of her way, though loose strands often find their way free just to annoy her. Perhaps the most unsettling part of Liv’s appearance, however, is her tendency to constantly talk or sing to herself in nonsensical rhymes.

Biography

Elizabeth Themis was born to a happy if poor family in a small community outside New York City. She and her sister, Robin were raised predominantly by their father, after Liv’s mother, Ada, died from Ovarian Cancer when Liv and Robin were 6 and 4 years old respectively. Losing one’s mother is a terrible tragedy, but as it happened when the girls were so young, the loss was something they learned to accept fairly quickly. As for their father, well, Mark had the girls to live for.

Mark Themis was a talented mechanic in their small community and both girls grew up helping him in the garage, a place as dear to them, or more so, than their home. Liv, however, took to the work like she was born to do it. Even when Robin lost interest in the garage as the two entered their teen years, Liv continued to spend most of her time away from school working on cars and bikes and machines.

So really, it shouldn’t surprise you when I say that's how Liv lost her left arm. It happened quickly; one day while working in the black of the garage by herself, Liv’s sleeve got caught on some junk parts going into the hydraulic press before being sold as scrap metal. Her entire arm was crushed and later amputated at the socket.

Liv would have been without an arm forever because her family didn’t have the money for cybernetics, but she grew up in a special, tight-knit community, who raised the money for a nice cybernetic arm replacement while she was in the hospital. One morning Liv woke from anaesthesia to find that the empty place her arm once occupied had been replaced by a shining machine. She cried, knowing she wouldn’t have to give up her career.

After finishing high school, Liv managed to score a scholarship for young women from low-income families who wished to study engineering. She excelled in the first three years of her course work, but during the summer before her final year, cancer struck at their little family again, and both Liv and Robin returned home from college to care for their father.

While the Themis family fought against cancer, the world around them began to fall apart: black rain, ferocious living things, a failing of infrastructure. Just as her father seemed to be getting better, the hospitals closed and Liv began to get desperate. When word came of Refuge opening, she convinced her father and Robin to travel with her to the relative safety it offered.

They did alright for most of the journey, traveling in the old family car during the day and staying still and silent during the long nights until they ran out of gas not far from the Refuge. That first long night away from the car spelled disaster for the Themis family. The girls were separated from their father in a race to get away from the ghouls— a race they didn’t quite win. Liv had just squeezed into a tight hiding space in the rubble of the streets when the ghouls caught up. She watched them tear apart her sister, and spend the rest of the night trying to get in to tear at her.

The next morning, scavengers from Refuge found Liv wandering the streets, singing lullabies to herself. Sometime in the night, her mind had broken, and it hasn’t quite mended itself, despite care from the doctors and physiologists at Refuge. Out of mercy or pity, the workers from Refuge to her back with them, where she was given a place to work once her abilities with machines were made known.

Extended Information

Residence:

Her Garage

Profession:

Mechanic

Aligned Faction:

Blank for now

Relatives:

• Mark Themis (Missing)
• Robin Themis (Deceased)

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• A pair of scavenged 9mm pistols, with a few custom upgrades
• a wicked knife she cut out of old car parts

Equipment

• Mechanic’s tool set (including a few specialty attachments for her arm)

Miscellaneous

• A dented, oval locket on a long chain she wears tucked beneath her clothing

Trade Skills:

• Mechanic
  If it has moving parts, Liv can probably fix it. She has the most experience with vehicles, however she has been experimenting with upgrading tools and weaponry as well. She’s worked on everything from solar power to robots, just don’t ask her to work on your home A.I. unless you want it cussing like a sailor every time you give it a task.
• Cybernetic Maitenance
  When it became a necessity to receive her arm, Liv set out to make herself an expert in the maintenance of cybernetic limbs. Today she’s the Refuge’s officially unofficial expert on cybernetic maintenance, upkeep, and upgrades.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Singer
  Liv has a beautiful, full voice, but she hardly ever sings where you’d hear her.
• Gunslinger
  Liv is a more than fair shot with her two pistols.
• Runner
  When not in her garage, Liv is often seen pelting the circumference of the Refuge. If you bug her about it, she may admit that it quiets the voices.

Limitations:

• P.T.S.D Induced Mental Instability
  
  If you were wondering about the reason for Liv’s shifty eyes and uncanny muttering when you met her, here’s the reason. She was never quite the same after seeing her little sister torn apart by ghouls on their way to the Refuge. Liv’s disorder may not affect her skill as a mechanic, but it makes her unpredictable at best. Some days are almost normal, where she spends the majority of others curled in a ball, reliving the horrors she experienced before Refuge. In combat, Liv is even less predictable: sometimes she fights with skill, sometimes she’s paralyzed with fear, and other times she flies into a berserker rage and won’t follow orders.
• Size Matters
  
  Perhaps partly due to her mental instability, Liv is thin and not very strong. When faced with any obstacle that requires brute strength to cross, she will lose. Her cybernetic arm is no real help in this situation either, because while it does have the ability to use certain tools and attachments, it is no stronger than your average human arm, and it takes time and tools to fix regularly.

[Ever]

Basic Information

Name:

Larisa 'Lyssa" Friedrich

Age:

27

Nationality:

German

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Female

Height:

5'3

Weight:

Aprox. 125lbs

Eye Color:

Blue

Hair Color:

Bleached Blond

Physical Disabilities:

• Early stages of cerebral palsy

Physical Identifiers

• A mole on the right side of her neck
• Light shaking of hands

Appearance:

Most people would look at Lyssa and think she probably wouldn't survive in the apocalypse, given how small she is and her condition, but really she does quite well. At least, so far anyway. She isn’t dainty type of girl and rarely is seen in the type of clothes most girls are. Normally she wears loose fitting jeans and some kind of t-shirt with a musician on it. During the day, when she is around camp, her hair is always let loose and down, but is put in a ponytail when gone on missions. Despite her being outside quite a bit, Lyssa's skins stays fairly pale. This makes her eyes always seem brighter than they really are. She wears a locket around her neck that once belonged to her mother. It is silver angel wings that are curled up in the shape of a heart. It has been passed down from generation to generation and was given to her just before she left Berlin.

She often wears knuckless gloves on her hands to help keep people from noticing them shaking. It doesn’t do much to hide it, though, it does help slightly. Not many people can see it, but she also has a tattoo on the back of her left shoulder. It is of an angel, holding a sword with a saying under it; “trust everyone just not the demons within them.” She got the tattoo in honor of her grandmother when she was 18. Her grandmother loved angels and often spoke those words to her when she was a child.

Biography

Larisa was originally born in Germany. Her mother and father had a nice little house in Berlin. Her father, Ian, was a construction worker for the city and her mother, Reva, work in animal welfare there. Larisa and her twin brother, Dmitry grew up quite happily there. Her brother learned to work on cars after some time and had plans to open up his own garage when he could get a loan. She worked closely with her brother on cars when she was not at work herself. She had a job at a local head shop in town, Back Stage gifts. Because of her illness, she started smoking marijuana at a young age. Being as it was illegal there they often had to get it from whatever shady person they could find. Her former boss at the headshop ended up being their main dealer, which is how she ended up getting a job there to begin with. He felt bad she had an illness and usually would give her discounts so that she could afford to buy it. She worked at Backstage from the age of 18 up until she was 25.

It was around this time that she met Eric Hennings. He was a soldier in the United States army and had been posted there at the time. They met when he came into the shop one day. He flirted with her for well over 30 minutes before being pulled away by his friends. He came back every day after that until he finally got the gumption to ask her out. He was posted there for almost a year before being told he was being deployed back to the United States. For weeks he begged her to go with him, but she said no for the longest time. It wasn’t until a week before he was about to leave that she actually decided to go with him. She couldn’t help herself or the way she felt. Her parents and brother weren’t excited for the news, but they accepted it and let her go with him.

She was scared to go to the United States, but felt a little more comfortable with Eric present. He lived in Washington and was able to go back for some R&R before being sent to the army base there. It was during this time that he proposed to her and introduced her to his family. Life was good for a while for the happy couple, but it went downhill rather fast. The plague like virus hit quickly and all hell broke loose. Being in the army, Eric was ordered to leave his fiancé and help deal with the situation at hand. He was unfortunately killed in the line of duty, leaving Larisa alone and to fend for herself. She tried staying with his family, but they had been gone a vacation when everything fell apart.

In all the chaos, she was able to join a group of survivors so that she was no longer alone. They built the wall around a good portion of the town they were in and were able to create a safe zone. Well, the best one they could. It didn’t keep ghouls completely out at night, but was better than having no defense at all. In the weeks she was there, Larisa began volunteering to go out and scavenge for Refuge. She had nothing better to do with herself and learned that it helped take her mind off of her grief. Sometimes, at night, she wonders if leaving Berlin was worth it. She was happy with Eric, but she questions if she would be in the same situation as she is now if she was back at home. A question she doubts she will ever receive an answer to.

Extended Information

Residence:

Previous: Berlin Germany
Current: The Town of Refuge in Washington

Profession:

Previous: Cashier at Backstage Gifts Head Shop
Current: Scavenger for Refuge

Aligned Faction:

The Refuge

Relatives:

• Ivan Friedrich -Father (Unknown)
• Reva Friedrich-Mother (Unknown)
• Dmitry Friedrich-Brother (Unknown)
• Tessa Friedrich -Sister in-law (Unknowm)
• Eric Hennings- Fiancé(Deceased)

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Weapons:
• 1 pair of glock 17s
• Black handled machete
• 3″ titanium, steel blade with stiletto tip and glass breaker tang.

Equipment

• Scrap handmade bullets
• Small first aid kit
• Motocross full upper body armor and shin guards
• Flashlight

Miscellaneous

• 1/2 ounce of pot
• Rolling papers
• Lighter
• Sunglasses
• 2 plastic water bottles
• Gold wedding band

Trade Skills:

• Mechanic
  had some basic mechanic skills. Her brother was very good with cars before everything happened. Larisa often sat in and helped him work on some of his cars when they were teenagers.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Talents
• Can roll pretty good joints despite her hand shaking
• Can hot wire cars
• Hobbies
• Loves listening to music
• Loves a good book. Can often spend hours wrapped up in a good book

[JackHasAShotgun]

Basic Information

Name:

Thomas Croft

Age:

24

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Male

Height:

5’8

Weight:

Around 160lb

Eye Color:

Gray

Hair Color:

Light Brown

Physical Disabilities:

• N/A

Physical Identifiers

• Thin scar runs vertically through right eyebrow
• Long scar running horizontally across left forearm

Appearance:

Thomas is a leanly muscled and wiry looking young man who often has an awkward smirk on his face. His gray eyes always seem to have a look of uncertainty in them, as if he’s unsure of what he’s doing or what he should say. The bags under his eyes also hint at his habitual lack of sleep. His nose is slightly crooked and squashed with thick nostrils. Anyone with an eye for such things could probably tell it has been broken on more than one occasion.

Body wise Thomas has only one tattoo and only a few scars. One scar across his eyebrow, one nasty looking one on his abdomen and one long thin scar running horizontally across his left forearm.

He has somewhat long and unkempt hair and typically sports a small beard and a mustache.

Clothing wise he tends to wear somewhat baggy jeans and t-shirts and often dons hoodies, plain in color. Black, gray or white usually. Over whatever he’s wearing on his back he wears his patch, a leather vest with his biker clubs insignia on the back. The insignia shows a lone pregnant woman smoking on a Harley Davidson with a sign saying “Lake Erie” in the background.

Biography

Thomas was born and raised in Warren, Ohio. His father was a marine who died in combat when he was still just a baby according to his mother, though he never really decided on whether he believed her or not. It didn’t really matter much to him. He has one older brother who despite tensions between them happens to be the one person alive he loves and trusts.

For the first 17 or so years of his life Thomas was regularly abused by his mom, both mentally and physically. She had already fucked up his brother so she said she had him to really do it right this time, to do the mother thing properly. Of course she failed at that and everything she did to his older brother she ended up also inflicting on him.

As a rather obvious consequence of almost daily trauma Thomas could never really concentrate in school. He would often get some much needed rest at least since almost every night he tried to sleep at home he would often be awoken by nightmares and could rarely return to sleep afterwards. Thankfully when he was 16 his brother finally managed to get his own place and took Thomas with him, not telling their mom his address or anything else lest she call the authorities.

He was as happy as he was capable of being to be away from his mom but still had very complex feelings towards her. Living with his brother proved to be a much happier existence though despite their circumstances. Not being able to finish school himself his brother supported them with a mixed income earned from bricklaying and illegal jobs carried out as part of a local biker gang. With less than a year left of Thomas’ education and no hope of him getting anything out of it either the two of them decided he would simply stop going.

From there on out they lived almost completely off the grid, taking any manual labor work they could whilst also lining their pockets with certain illegal endeavors. Drawn to actually being a part of a family Thomas also decided to try and join The Eerie Bastards, the biker gang. It was relatively easy since his brother was already a trusted member and half of the criminal element had similar backgrounds and personalities to him.

By the time he was 20 he was a patched member of the club. This came with what he had hoped; a new family. He’d always had an interest in guns, mostly because of a love of video games and despite being able to easily get one in his neighborhood he’d never before owned one. At first it was because having a gun in the same house as his mom was basically suicide and later on he respected his brother enough not to get one without asking him but wasn’t quite comfortable enough to actually do that. He didn’t know about the two handguns, one shotgun and one rifle his brother already had. When they finally did talk about it his brother said they’d just helped him sleep at first but he didn’t want to tell him about them being there in case he had… thoughts. In his new family though a love of guns was commonplace and appreciated. They taught him how to strip and clean a handgun plus several rifles and shotguns. The Sergeant at Arms also took him out to his uncle's farm and helped him practice shooting with all sorts of firearms almost every other week. Every patched member carried a gun and a knife, but possessing either without the will or ability to use them was more of a danger to himself than anyone else, or so he was told.

By the time he was 21 he was running drugs to Ohio from New York under the cover of the regular charity runs the club did. It wasn’t long before he was helping to torch certain rival drug houses and less than two years in he committed his first revenge killing. After that line was crossed it just became another way to make money, so the murder for hire began. The brothers justified what they did for money with their abuse. What had been done to them and what path it had set them on gave them little other choice in their minds. This shared justification was strictly kept in both their heads though, they never spoke of what they went through out loud, to each other or anyone else.

Inevitably one of them was arrested, charged, convicted and sent to prison. It just so happened to be his brother. He got 25 years to life for premeditated triple murder, taking the rap for one of the bodies for his brother. Cops knew there had been at least two shooters at the scene, the wound patterns made that obvious but his brother denied his existence and any and all allegations of it being in any way related to his biker club.

Due to repeated acts of violence in the prison he was originally in he was eventually shipped further west to Colorado and so that’s where Thomas went, becoming a nomad. When the apocalypse kicked off Thomas managed to get into the prison and rescue his brother as well as hundreds of other prisoners. It turned out to be pretty damned easy since every employee had left and abandoned the prisoners to die in their cells. Once he was with his brother they looked over a map and decided to head northwest to Washington. There was plenty of drinkable water because of the coast there, cities to be looted and if needed forests to hunt in.

Extended Information

Residence:

601 Hi-Ab-La PL NE

Profession:

Landscaper/Outlaw Biker

Aligned Faction:

Refuge

Relatives:

• DeShane Croft - 34 - Brother - Alive

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• SRM 1216 Shotgun (Carried on Sling)
• Glock 17 (Belt Holster)
• Puma Bowie Knife (Belt Holster)

Equipment

• Backpack (Usually kept in house)
• Several boxes of 12 gauge shotgun shells
• Box of 9mm rounds
• Six gallon jugs of water
• Camel Sack
• Break Free CLP Cleaner & Lube
• Cotton Pads
• Sleeping Bag
• Food/Rations
• Water Purification Tablets

Miscellaneous

• Zippo Lighter with The Eerie Bastards inscribed

Trade Skills:

• On a Swivel
  Thomas has been in enough violent situations to know that they can kick off anywhere at anytime and often at a moment's notice. For this reason among a few others he pays constant attention to his surroundings, making sure he knows who’s there, what they’re talking about and even what they’re thinking if possible. This continues at any place he sleeps or even rests. If he sits somewhere he makes sure he can see the entrances and before he lets his guard down anywhere he makes sure it’s clear of all danger first even if he has stayed there numerous times before.
• Outlaw
  Thomas spent what could have been his college years being schooled by hardcore criminals, most of what they taught him being violence-oriented. Aside from simply teaching him how to maintain and shoot guns efficiently they taught him where to shoot just in case a target was wearing body armor, how to stalk and ambush a target in an urban environment and most importantly to never hesitate when the time came to pull the trigger. What makes Thomas extremely dangerous however is that truthfully almost all of his actual skill at killing comes from real experience in real situations. It’s one thing to be a good shot at the range, it’s a whole other thing to gun down two or three men in a small and crowded bar. Basically, in real high risk, life and death situations Thomas is tried and true.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Hobbies
• Gaming: Before everything went to shit Thomas loved gaming. Throughout his entire childhood he used video games to distract himself from the horror that was his home life. Later on he used them to distract himself from the acts of horror he committed. Despite them basically just being a coping mechanism he truly did love them, especially RPG’s.
• Jogging: Not something he did all that often pre-apocalypse but he has since seen first hand what happens to people who can’t run long distance in this new world. He fully expects to have to go beyond the walls of Refuge again at some point and he wants to be as ready as he possibly can when that time comes.
• Talents
• Thomas’ only useful non-combat talent is his knack for remembering details and noticing even the slightest shifts in behavior. He remembers almost everything he hears people say and if that somehow conflicts with what they say or do down the line it’ll gnaw at him until it’s at the forefront of his mind. He is compulsive about understanding why people do what they do and say what they say and this for some reason makes him an unusually decent judge of character.

Limitations:

• Socially Inept
  Thomas has spent almost his entire life socially isolating himself and when he finally did begin regularly socializing it was with a group of borderline or way past the borderline sociopaths. He’s not exactly the most charismatic man in the world. His aloof attitude towards others combined with him either being extremely distrusting or extremely loyal tends to be rather off putting to most folks.
• Tinnitus
  Thomas’ hearing has suffered for having shot firearms indoors and without ear protection way too many times. He’s not deaf, but his hearing isn’t exactly quite up to standard and he hears a ringing sound in his left ear on quite the regular basis. It’s nothing too debilitating but it definitely makes a difference in his day to day life.

[Rawk]

Basic Information

Name:

Alex TreVayne

Age:

31

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Male

Height:

6’1

Weight:

Approx 175lbs

Eye Color:

Cobalt

Hair Color:

dark brown w/streaks of gray

Personality:

For the most part, Alex could be seen as charismatic and friendly, with a confidence that seems to show in just about everything he does. For those who intend to cross him and take his casual disposition for granted, they will be very displeased with the outcome, whether it comes immediately or later. As a side note, he can be rather defensive about his leg and the inevitable limp that constantly reminds him he’ll never be fully healed.

Physical Disabilities:

• Lost all movement in his right leg and had been fitted with a lightweight leg brace (of his own design) that allows him to walk normally and run at about half typical speed.

Physical Identifiers

• Walks with a limp
• Scar along side of face
• Tattoos of mythological creatures along both arms

Appearance:

6’1, 225lb lean muscle, olive skin, neatly combed dark hair and trimmed beard, showing hints of gray. When not dressed in the RPO tactical uniform, he prefers simple t-shirts, slacks, and boots. Although he always carries a sidearm, whether concealed or otherwise, just because he can...

Biography

South Boston. Some would call it a historical significance in the early growth and commerce of American history, others, a place to hang out if you wanted great food, drink and bearable company at a reasonable price. To Alex, it was home, and the only place he’d known up until the Great Fall that changed everything…

Not everyone was cut out for blue collar labor, certainly not the brainiac kids living in their basements playing video games or the college dropouts who felt safer hiding behind pages of web code in place of getting their hands dirty outside. The TreVaynes, several generations of tradesmen going as far back as one can remember, and Alex was not much different as he followed in father’s footsteps, starting out as an apprentice welder and half-way decent auto mechanic. Times were tough for most middle class families, and multiple careers wasn’t an unlikely alternative, but they had each other through the thick of it, and no matter what happened, they didn’t allow contention to break them apart. Only when Alex had found out the truth about his father, and his alleged association with the mafia lurking in the shadows of the City, did things begin to shift into a much darker form.

There was a debt to be paid, and the TreVayne patriarch had no way of delivering unless it was with his own life. Alex, now in his early twenties, a tall lean and muscular young man, decided to offer mob a much better deal: hire him as one of their “enforcer agents”, and help pay his father’s debt for good. Needless to say, they took the kid up on his offer, and brought Alex TreVayne into the fold, molding him into more of a weapon as years passed. All the while, the debt never quite seemed to be paid as quickly as it should have been. His father, not one to back down from a fight, had unfortunately picked the wrong fight, protesting the whole idea of his son being used for the mobs gain, and yet going back on their deal in the long run. The mafia didn’t care, and with a swift stroke, took both parents and his three siblings out of the picture, calling the debt “paid” by that time, and allowing Alex to continue working for them if he valued his own life. Funny. He’d joined the Underground to save his father, and yet that very decision inevitably kill the man he sought to free from their iron grip. Why couldn’t it have been him to die by their hands in order to save his family?

The gloves were off by then and wheels were set in motion.

Months passed before a vengeful Alex decided to make a move on several mob connections, gaining as much information as he could to take them out one at a time, and as grotesquely as possible. His trigger finger was guided by the spirits of his dead family, parents he loved and would never see again because the wrong people got greedy. He knew where to find them, and no quarter would be given to those who have the mark of death on their greasy foreheads. One-by-one he’d hunted them down, those responsible for destroying the life he had, for taking what didn’t belong to them in the first place. It was only when the last few who remained gained an upper hand, and turned the tides on the “avenging angel”. A trap was set for Alex, and he’d walked right into, perhaps through blinding anger or the sheer force of will to put a hold in his enemy’s skull, he went from the frying pan into the fires of Hell before anything further could be done. The mob had the last laugh, as they’d lead him straight into a house full of bloodied bodies: men, women, children, cats, and dogs, it didn’t matter. It was a nightmare to behold, and Alex found himself surrounded by a dozen Federal Agents all ready to turn his frame into swiss cheese at the drop of a hat.

The kid wasn’t so lucky, and was fast-tracked to the State Penitentiary, where he’d spend his “triple life sentences” rotting away on Death Row with absolutely no contact to the outside world.

Several years passed, and on the eve of his thirty-first birthday, the world turned from bad to worse in a matter of minutes. Power outages and network issues were the least of the problems as hordes of things ravaged whatever was in sight, killing off guards, inmates, and everything in between. Whatever the infection was, it spread like a wildfire, and the whole prison system shutdown, which made it that much easier to get the hell out, that was, if you could survive long enough to enjoy freedom again. Alex hid as best he could, thankfully having the layout of each floor mapped out in his head well enough that finding the best places to circumvent the danger came relatively easy. It wasn’t until he was grabbed by the ankle by what he’d thought was one of the “creatures”, only to find out that it was one of the guards bleeding out from a wound. He knew he was a goner, but pleaded with Alex to find his sister in Washington State and bring her the few mementos he’d had curled up in his bloodied hand: a photo identification badge, and a picture of the man and his sister standing in front of the Space Needle in Seattle.

With some reluctance, but little time to really contemplate things, Alex accepted just as the guard’s dying breath released. Timing had always been one of his strong points, and this was no exception, because no sooner had the conversation ended, the attacking creatures flooded the area, and Alex headed off toward the most promising of all sections within the prison: The Armory. With bare minimal supplies left, he grabbed what he could, stuffed them into a camo rucksack that didn’t seem to have a shortage of space and fled out into the night, hot wiring a vehicle that was conveniently parked outside with no driver, and took off as far as half a tank of gas would take him.

Two and a half months of traveling had gone by, jumping from one vehicle to another, hiding in abandoned places, scavenging for food, and generally needing a serious bath only to make it to the borders of Washington, where he was going to stop for a drink if it was the last thing he did. Unfortunately, that drink didn’t come, but he’d eventually been guided to a place called the Refuge, which was -for better or worse- the last place it seemed where any semblance of civility was to be found. The gear and clothing he’d found in the prison would give the impression that he was a former law enforcement officer, and perhaps the identification would help to solidify that claim, so toward Refuge he went in hopes of a better life.

...oh, and perhaps even finding that lost sister...

Extended Information

Residence:

A tenement near center of the Refuge

Profession:

Lawkeeper / Enforcer

Aligned Faction:

Refuge Police Department (RPO)

Relatives:

• None that he is aware of...

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Modified Tactical Shotgun
• 9mm Glock
• Stun Baton
• Colt M1911A1 Handgun - a 1940’s piece of American history that he’d managed to relinquish from a military museum who clearly didn’t need it in a post-apocalyptic world. He also hoped to pawn it off for something way more useful as it is currently missing a firing pin.

Equipment

• Leatherman multi-tool
• TBD
• TBD
• TBD

Miscellaneous

• A networked communicator that works within the Refuge and just outside it’s walls. Standard issue when joining the RPO.

Trade Skills:

• Welding/Plasma Cutting
  Mid-level: Mostly repair work, although if he had to, he could construct things from scrap like small carts, mounting racks for vehicles, or even (to an extent) custom exo-braces for medical reasons.
• Mechanic
  Mid-level: Can find his way around most modern vehicles, diagnosing and repairing without much trouble. If needed, he can scavenge for parts and generally knows which vehicles will have a match.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Sharpshooter
  As a hired gun for the Boston Underground, he’d racked up enough experience to rarely miss his target.
• Gambler
  Can hold his own in various games of chance, using this as a means of additional income or trading for supplies/info.
• Sleight of Hand
  Call it a necessary gift, but Alex has always had a knack for redirecting attention just long enough to get what he wants.

Limitations:

• Limp
  While he may be able to walk normally, anything faster causes pain after a period of time.
• Farsighted
  Without glasses or magnifying goggles, his vision is limited to distances, as anything close-up can be out of focus.

[Subject Zero]

Basic Information

Name:

Daniel Pope

Age:

24

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Male

Height:

5' 10''

Weight:

140 lbs

Eye Color:

Light Brown

Hair Color:

Dark Brown

Physical Disabilities:

• Mute [NOTE: I'm not sure if this should be classed as a physical disability but it's a disability nonetheless so I'm putting it here.]

>/list>
Appearance:

Danny stand a little under six ft tall with dark, often quite messy hair and light brown eyes. He is a very physically active individual so he keeps in good shape but isn't overly muscular. He is a handsome young man who prefers to stay clean shaven when possible.

Biography

Danny was always something of a problem child. He had anger issues even from an early age, throwing himself into a temper tantrum at the drop of a hat. While he was a nice guy in most other regards, the anger always stayed with him as he grew older. In school, he was suspended multiple times for getting into fights with other students. It was a trait he had seemingly inherited from his father. A thug and a bully of a man, Victor Pope saw his sons anger as just having spirit and often applauded him when he got into fights as a young boy. His mother on the other hand hated it. She didn't want Danny to grow up to be like the man she had grown so scared of over the years. She didn't want him to be like his father. So it was for Danny's sake that she finally plucked up the courage to divorce him.

Danny didn't see much of his old man after that. He seemed to have very little interest in the boy when he was around and even less interest when he wasn't. While not having such a bad influence anymore did help, Danny still lost his temper very easily. It wasn't until his mom remarried a man named Joseph Minoru that Danny's mental state began to change. Joe was a very soft spoken and calm man. It was soothing just to be around him. He taught Danny how to control his temper and for the first time ever, Danny actually felt at peace.

Joe was more of a father to Danny than Victor ever was and as Danny grew older, the Pope-Minoru household became a much happier place. Joe passed on his craft as a bladesmith to both his daughter and his stepson and while Kathryn, Danny's stepsister, was never really very interested in the art of making weapons, Danny proved surprisingly talented at it and strongly considered making it his profession when he was older.

Kathryn, like Joe, had an equally positive influence on Danny's life. Danny and Kat were around the same age and enjoyed a lot of the same hobbies. They became the best of friends and although they bickered a lot, they were practically inseparable. Kat also helped Danny come to terms with his sexuality. Something he was never comfortable discussing with anyone else.

Danny was finally growing into a happy and well adjusted young man.

But like everyone else, Danny's happiness was shattered when the world ended.

The night the ghouls came, Danny lost his entire family. When Kathryn was surrounded, Joe came to her rescue, fending off as many of the attackers as he could until one landed a bite. Joseph Minoru died that night...but he died a hero. Danny was devastated but fought off the rest of the attackers to get his family out. He bundled them into the back of a neighbors truck who had offered to help get them all to safety. Unfortunately, before Danny could get in himself, he was attacked by another ghoul. He managed to fight it off but was quickly being surrounded by more. Unable to wait for Danny, the neighbor elected to leave without him but with Samantha and Kat in the back. Danny doesn't hold any resentment for this act. He is actually glad he decided to go because if he didn't chances are they would all be dead now.

Danny narrowly managed to avoid death that night but now found himself alone. He hasn't seen his family since.

A little over a week after the attack, Danny had banded together with a small group of local survivors. One of whom he had a particular dislike for. Robert. Mostly because he reminded him of his own father in his bully attitude towards his own wife. When the group was attacked again, they lost one of their own and Danny saw that Robert had an opportunity to save him but did nothing. The rest of the group managed to escape and find shelter but the ghouls were still hunting them. It was at this moment, the worst possible moment, that Danny snapped and his anger returned. He began yelling at Robert for his actions. Or lack of action. The others pleaded for him to stay quiet but he was so consumed by his own anger that he didn't even hear them. He didn't even hear the ghouls until it was too late and they broke through the door. The group tried to fend them all off but only Danny managed to survive. He somehow managed to kill every ghoul but he didn't escape unscathed. The next morning, Danny was found by a man named Alex TreVayne, still in the same room, surrounded by dead ghouls and dead friends. Huddled in a corner, utterly terrified and lost in thought.

Something broke in Danny's mind that night. He realises his outburst attracted the ghouls. He realises his anger got his friends killed. He hasn't spoken a word since. He now associates the sound of his own voice with danger. His silence is not a result of anything physical. Even if he wants to speak, he can't force his mouth to form the words. Alex has stayed with Danny since, despite Danny's frequent attempts to go off on his own. The two have bonded and Danny has gradually been letting his guard down around Alex and Alex even convinced Danny to join him at the survivor camp Refuge.

While Danny prefers to keep to himself, he genuinely does want the best for the community and often volunteers to go out and scavenge for supplies. He also puts his skills as a bladesmith and a cook to use within the community which has earned him the respect of most, though some still mistake his silence for rudeness.

Danny still wants to find his family but he doesn't know where to look. So, for the time being, he stays at Refuge with the hope that his mom and sister will find their way to him.

Extended Information

Residence:

Danny has elected to take up residence as far away from the wall as he possibly can so as not to attract the attention of ghouls with the loud clattering of metal weapons being created. His current residence isn't the best setup for his craft but he makes do with quite some success in the large basement of a two story home on the far side of Refuge

Profession:

Bladesmith, cook, and scavenger

Aligned Faction:

Refuge Survivors

Relatives:

• Samantha Pope-Minoru - Danny's mom. The last time Danny saw his mother, she and his stepsister were fleeing their home in a neighbors truck. He likes to think they're still alive but he has no idea where they are.
• Kathryn Minoru - Danny's stepsister and best friend. Like Joe, currently missing.

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Two Wakizashi blades - Danny's stepfather was a talented bladesmith and passed along the talent to both Danny and his stepsister. While these blades are simple in comparison to those created by real masters, they have served Danny well and he has become quite adept in their use.
• Knuckle Dusters - A favorite weapon of Danny's for fighting normal humans, should the need arise.
• Pistol - While Danny prefers to not use firearms if possible, he understands the need to carry one for those situations where stealth won't cut it.

Equipment

• Backpack - Danny spends a lot of time scavenging in nearby areas so he carries a backpack with him whenever he heads outside Refuge. This pack has many different compartments for storage and even a way to hold his swords.
• Dirt bike - Danny's favored method of transport when travelling further afield is his trusty dirt bike which he spends a lot of his free time maintaining.

Miscellaneous

• Photo - Danny keeps this on his person at all times as a memento of his family, his mother especially who died a few months ago.
• Journal - Sometimes even a mute wants to express their feelings. Though Danny may not be able to do this audibly, he will occasionally be seen scribbling in this messy looking book stuffed with all kinds of pages that is usually always kept on his person.

Trade Skills:

• Bladesmith
  Danny learned this skill from his stepdad and now puts it to good use withing Refuge by providing what weapons he can to the locals. Though he can't find truly good material for his weapons, he will use whatever scrap metal he can find and hands these weapons out to whoever needs them the most.
• Cook
  Born of a true love of food and encouraged by his mother, Danny is a more than capable cook and loves make whatever food he can. Again, though Refuge may not have the greatest supplies, Danny always tries to turn his food into something people will enjoy eating.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Fighter
  Danny is an alarmingly talented fighter. There's nothing professional or flashy about his fighting but he is brutally efficient and strikes with a ruthlessness that has shocked many. Barehanded, he can drop an opponent twice his size fight off several opponents. Add a weapon though and his attacks become several times more efficient.
• Yoga
  In sharp contrast to his fighting ability, Danny is fond of employing yoga as a way to relax and keep healthy. He can often be found around refuge practicing yoga. Though he has never exactly encouraged it, he doesn't exactly discourage others when they choose to join him either.

Limitations:

• Silent
  Danny just doesn't speak. When it comes to communicating with others, he is at an extreme disadvantage.
• Anger Issues
  While he does his best to keep a lid on it these days, he still has occasional bouts of anger. Though he is more likely to silently take it out on an inanimate object than a person.

[Andreyich]

Fred

Basic Information

Beards are sexy yo

Name:

Fredrick Pierre Niedermayer

Age:

33

Nationality:

French Canadian/American

Ethnicity:

Celtic-American

Sex:

Male

Height:

6'0

Weight:

165

Eye Color:

green

Hair Color:

black

Physical Disabilities:

• Type 2 Diabetes

Physical Identifiers

• Strong chin with thick but short beard
• Green eyes
• A long slash scar under the right side of his jaw
• A shiny bald head
• A white-guy tourist tan, very strong beyond elbows, knees and neck but he is very pale everywhere else.

Appearance:

He is tall and burly though he seems larger than he is thanks to a confident gait and smile. He has a very strong chin and low hairline (almost unnoticeable because he is very cleanly shaven) but his other features are more or less average. Additionally, he has a thick but short and well groomed beard/mustache combo and seaweed green eyes, all of which is on a build that is very strong, burly and almost soldier-like.

Biography

Born to a upper-middle class family Fred was by his own admission a "lazy shit," being quite fat and doing naught but playing video games. He graduated university level courses (albeit with poor marks) in high school and then went on to university. He failed in his first year, and his parents made an ultimatum to get his shit together or be kicked out; while it took him a while he eventually decided the former.

At first it was just an attempt to keep a home but eventually if was a full conversion in his life; he started to excercise, read, and eventually graduated with a major in environmental Science. This became a big theme around his life and it almost made his parents regret changing him because of how annoying he got. Eventually, they made another ultimatum where he has to get a house or be kicked out and have financial aid cut off. Grumbling he agreed and got a home though he got bored of such a life anyway.

He signed up to a research expedition to South America and Haiti, where he spent more than six years and has but a few months ago returned from, tanned and very different, having done everything from brew medicines with natives to escape from people trying to sell him and his organs on the black market; he even killed two men, though prefers to not talk about it, though this was somewhat hard since he received his 50 minutes of fame upon return thanks to his story.

Recently, he has taken interest in a lot of current events to do with genetic engineering and in the black water incidents. When the ghouls started coming, he did not have time to save family and was merely glad that his house was where refuge was built.

Extended Information

Residence:

It's a relatively old house but quite well renovated, with a pier, a boat, various electronic gear and some of his research findings as well as equipment as well as old but pertinent documents on similar events. It does not have much in the way of AI but it does have an auxiliary power source.

Profession:

Naturalist.

Aligned Faction:

Refuge over-all, though he collaborates with various scientists about the place.

Relatives:

• Direct family of mother, brother and father, all most likely dead.

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Grach-80 (MP-443 descendant pistol) with accessories (including a laser-sight, silencer, scope, full-auto switch near the safety, scope, flashlight).
  - For it he has an armpit holster and a belt with six more (18 round)magazines in addition to the one in
  his pistol
• a heavy one and a half handed splitting axe
  - It is a quite long thing and can be wielded one handed but is best used with both hands; it has an axe
  side a hammer side making it very useful as both a tool and weapon; the handle is metal with some wood

Equipment

• Respirator and hazmat suit
• flashlight, med kit, various research equipment.

Miscellaneous

• Various personal documents to help him keep his sanity
• A fleur-de-lys pendant he keeps around
• An antique pocket watch
• A cigar case of good Cuban cigars
• An old flask

Trade Skills:

• Study of the natural world
  He has a good understanding of general "hippy shit," knows a lot of agriculture and of natural history and this has helped him get an understanding of the Ghouls along with the sudden appearance of odd flora.
• Rough Traveller
  He has travelled through very nasty parts of the world giving him great ability to stay hidden and tolerate nasty environs along with the ability to navigate them well.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Marksmanship
  He is a surprisingly good shot for someone of his profession, and when questioned of it he merely replies "Family took me out for practice."
• Arts
  Most arts come naturally to him be it music, drawing or poetry.

Limitations:

• Outspoken
  He's dealt with a lot of shit, and will give back three times as much as he is given often making diplomacy and negotiation somewhat troubling for him, even if this is reconciled by a relatively smooth tongue.
• Troubled Mind
  He has gone through some... nasty experiences in South America and though they may have made him a better man they still trouble him; not to mention that just as he began mental rest and recovery the ghouls came, and most likely ate his family for he was not able to contact them.

[Force and Fury]

Basic Information

Name:

Hannah and Amanda Sinclair

Age:

23

Nationality:

Canadian

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Sex:

Female

Height:

5'4"

Weight:

151 lbs. (combined)

Eye Color:

Blue-Grey

Hair Color:

Red

Physical Disabilities:

• Dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins
• Slightly far-sighted

Physical Identifiers

• They basically look like a two-headed woman.
• Both wear glasses, though Hannah needs them more.
• They used to wear yellow contact lenses, though that's largely fallen by the wayside.
• There are a handful small of surgical scars on their back and shared shoulder.

Appearance:

Perhaps the twins could be described as a pair of young women with red hair, light skin, and freckles. This alone would make them stand out in a crowd given the relative uncommonness of that complexion. They also show the strong and slightly cleft chin characteristic of many people of their ethnic background. However, these features are secondary, as Hannah and Amanda are instantly unmistakable due to the fact that they're dicephalic parapagus conjoined twins, not dissimilar to Abigail and Brittany Hensel. Given the extremely high incidence of fatal birth defects present in such twins, they are very fortunate to enjoy health that - after a few corrective surgeries during their infancy and early childhood - falls within normal parameters.

Amanda and Hannah are identical, though their freckles (not particularly numerous or pronounced) differ. Hannah usually wears her hair shorter and will sometimes wear either a choker or a bracelet to distinguish herself from her sister. They customize their clothes when need be to fit their wider-than-average shared torso, but often prefer to wear things that are either loose-fitting or can stretch a good deal. They prefer wide-necked, tank, or off the shoulder tops for obvious reasons. Their dressing style can best be described as either casual or, at times, 'look at me, I'm a gamer gril.' They've had to focus on practicality since everything went pants a few months back.

Biography

Amanda and Hannah were born in Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada, in the year 2088, the second and third (Amanda jokingly refers to herself as the older twin) children of Matthew and Evelyn Sinclair. Informed before their birth of their situation and the likelihood of them dying in infancy, their parents did not opt for an abortion. After crossing a number of important hurdles, the twins emerged as happy, healthy children, their lives understandably the focus of intense public curiosity and media attention. While their parents did their best to strike a balance between appeasing the demand for information and raising the girls normally, by the time that they started the first grade, they were well aware of just how different and special they were.

While some dicephalus twins manage to co-ordinate the fine motor control needed to master everyday tasks, doctors advised caution and patience when the girls were young. Thankfully, this proved largely unwarranted. Amanda and Hannah seem to be able to anticipate each other's movements perfectly and rarely need to communicate in order to co-ordinate their movements. As their older brother Nate was an avid videogamer, the girls would often play with him. Before long they became deeply interested in videogaming and general geek culture, and this carried through into their teens. With two sets of eyes and two minds to process information, their situational awareness was difficult to beat.

As they progressed through high school, sporadically in and out of the public eye, the two of them made a decision: a 'normal' life and career were not in the cards, and their uniqueness was best embraced and used as a source of profit. Shortly after their eighteenth birthday, Hannah and Amanda moved to Vancouver to try their hands at professional gaming. They also studied programming and public relations on a part-time basis at UBC. Firmly ensconced within the 'geek' scene, they became regular attendees and a sometime attraction at gaming, comic, and anime conferences, often getting involved with cosplay. The twins have always been secure enough in their separate identities to eschew ham-fisted attempts to assert their individuality. The truth is that they have pretty similar personality types and their interests overlap significantly. The only notable difference is that Hannah is slightly more bookish and knowledgeable, while Amanda tends to take the lead and is a better judge of character.

They were in nearby Seattle, doing a series of interviews for the upcoming Emerald City Comicon, when the world ended. Perhaps playing so many videogames and watching so many zombie movies imbued them with the paranoia to survive. Amanda and Hannah mostly just stockpiled necessary items and hid for the first couple of months. They taught themselves to shoot an actual gun and found that it was a bit harder in the real world. Upon hearing the call to Refuge, they made their way there immediately.

Extended Information

Residence:

Vancouver, Canada

Profession:

Professional Gamers (former)

lookouts, scavengers, and programmers (current)

Aligned Faction:

currently unaligned

Relatives:

• Matthew Sinclair, father (whereabouts unknown)
• Evelyn Sinclair, mother (whereabouts unknown)
• Nathan Sinclair, older brother (Vancouver, Canada at last contact)

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• A pair of Springfield Armory XD(m) pistols firing .45 ACP rounds.
• A pair of Swiss army knives.

Equipment

• One pair of night-vision goggles (the second pair malfunctioned), a large hiking backpack, and a laser pointer

Miscellaneous

• Amanda: Samsung smartphone, apack of pencil crayons, contact lenses, desalinizing solution, one six-sided die
• Hannah: iPhone, a small combination lock, contact lenses, a compass, one six-sided die

Trade Skills:

• Not an Easy Mark
  As professional gamers, Amanda and Hannah possess excellent reflexes and consistently react quickly and decisively to changes in their situation. Their situational awareness is virtually unparalleled, due to their unique physiology and chosen profession. They are extremely difficult to sneak up on.
• All Your Code are Belong to Us
  While no means seasoned professionals when it comes to hacking, the twins understand a decent amount about a handful of different types of code and generally know their way around computers and electronics: both hardware and software.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Creativity
  The twins, especially Amanda, enjoy designing their own cosplay outfits and can sketch pretty ably as well as sew and repair clothing and other materials.
• General Knowledge
  The twins, especially Hannah, have pretty good memories and are knowledgeable about a wide variety of subjects.

Limitations:

• Like a Sore Thumb
  Amanda and Hannah are immediately obvious and stick out like a sore thumb wherever they go. There's no chance of fading into a crowd or simply disappearing. They draw immense attention wherever they go (and not all of it is positive). Usually they embrace it, but sometimes it really starts to wear on them.
• Conjoined
  Though they are young, in reasonable shape, and quite physically capable, Amanda and Hannah are still conjoined twins at the end of the day and their two legs have to carry more weight than most people's do. They're a little bit slower, their balance is a little bit worse, and they tire marginally faster than other people of similar age and physical condition. Though they've been mostly problem-free up to this point, some minor birth anomaly could always rear its head.

[Rockette]

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^{. c a ѕ ѕ a n d r a . . . т e r e ѕ a . . . p a c н e c o .}

. p. a. т. . c. н. e. ѕ .. .
Twenty-Six ❖ American ❖ Hispanic ❖ Female
^{____________________________________________________________________}
160 cm ❖ 120 lbs. ❖ Cinnamon Brown ❖ Black ❖

. a p p e a r a n c e .

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^{. Perpendicular scarring running in an "X" formation across her left cheek. & Circular scars randomized betwixt spine and shoulder blades; thighs and torso - sizing varied .}

Weighing a buck-twenty sopping wet and certifiably adorned with a lackadaisical sneer, Cassandra is afforded maybe the brief, but appropriate, impression of a sour drenched feline; bite, hiss and all. Her aesthetics are ones of soot stained threads and twisted locks always cinched around the vice of a finger or clenched through the bone of her apathetic glower. Fed persistent cardio towards the alternate beauty has given way to lean tissue and a sinewy figure, hardened by the conditions of sporadic nutrition and fluctuating dependencies, thus nearly forcing Cassandra to don for clothes a size or two larger than her usual frame should permit, allowing such threads to hang off of her shoulder upon a tightly cinched blouse.

With a swarthy complexion befitting to her heritage and time spent scouting through various scraps and patrolling through the whims of her curious mindset, and coupled with a gaze of cinnamon brown that bubbles to wine,
her initial debut is a bit severe in reflection to paler, more slight figures of her fatale kinship. Once known to flair proudly within vanity with her plume of ebony hair with the thickness akin to a equine's mane, she's been forced to sacrifice the luster of well groomed tresses for practicality; though still thick and just as unmanageable. Cassandra has opted to keep most of such secured in a half twist that accomplishes to keep most from interfering with her professions. Her scarring is most visible when her saturnine skin darkens and tones to a golden sheen under sunlight, the pale lines in almost harsh contrast to her usual parlour.

&

. b i o g r a p h y .

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Life in a household akin to the furnishing of the Pacheco farm was rudimentary at best and cramped at the worst. Considered quite sizable by outsider standards, the actual landscape was a bit more littered with forgotten automobile projects and the occasional farm animal — namely a lame donkey called Jackson and a few geldings grazing out back — outside their two story farm home. And if you want to count the amount of children loping about as livestock, their parents wouldn't even mind it.

Cassandra was among the middle brood, a definite surprise to say the least, especially to the older boys when suddenly — hey, they had to play protector and role model to a girl. Between scuffed knees and grass stained shoes, service attendance twice a week, Cassandra grew up rather normal with a life smudged only by the massive family unit of the Pacheco and Diaz-Pacheco pool among the farm. It was a soft of transition and rough choice of how to bring her up, and countless others, from older traditions and newer immersions with the coming day and age.

Older generations felt that a young girl had to become proper and inherit any and all of the Pacheco traditions, with old hand me downs, tutoring within domestic skills, and reciting prayer. Cassandra, however, found herself naturally within rebellion when they attempted to combine the two methods and when her favourite brother, Jacob — the one who passed candies during service and took her to the creek out back to catch frogs — encouraged her to sneak away whenever possible because it just wasn't the same without her otherwise. Their cousins were getting older, they never cared to try and ride the geldings out back or to try and stay on Jack for however long as possible, but Cassandra was a wild spirit, a creature that wanted to try and experience it all.

Her Grandmother almost despaired and tutted and scolded her often for wasting her potential on digging mud pools in the creek, for how else would she learn all she needed to know. Thus a typical farm life commenced for a reckless child such as she, with unique eyes and thickening hair, who learned to bat her lashes and smile endearingly just to get her way. A simple tear here, a slight sniffle and she had her family catering to her whims; in hopes she would turn a new leaf. Jacob eventually began to use such to his own advantage as well, if Cassandra mentioned that Jacob didn't do it — then he simply didn't. A sort of well done pair, they had each other's backs. Cassandra adored her brother, he was older, he was wise in her youth eyes and he would anything for her.

Until the fire.

The barn was an old pile of rubble to the eyes of many; decayed in multiple areas, and used as a junk house rather than for tools and resources. At best the horses would use the critical awning to shield themselves from the rain. Terrible heat surges usually followed the rain season, drying out the air, curling the grass to brown, thus making outside almost unbearable, especially if the creeks dried up. During one such afternoon, school having let out the week before, Cassandra had gone to the barn, some wild hens were using the shed, she wanted to see if she could get close enough to tease and harass; get them away from the eggs. But Jacob had become increasingly rebellious, and a slight with their father the day before had turned him to snatching his lighter from the counter, thinking nothing of it, and following her outside. The dried up heaps of hay and stock came into view, a spur of something struck him that day, to twist a lock of it through the flame with Cassandra watching on with wide eyes of fascination and fear — they could get in so much trouble, but it was fun, just like always. She suddenly wanted her turn.

The fire started small, but the dry air and the mass of sudden kindling brought the flame to swell and rise,
both children bolted from the barn, only to watch it become quickly consumed in the fire and spread outward along the grass. Their parents noticed the fire immediately, snatching both Cassandra and Jacob, stained in smoke, and locking them within the house as they tried putting out the flame until officials arrived. It was labeled as an accident, but they knew better, both Pacheco parents had suspicions that one was responsible, but in a quick turn of sudden betrayal, her brother hid the lighter within her own room and told the story with convincing cries and wide eyes; claiming that Cassandra started the fire, placing all blame at her feet.

Perhaps, they thought, she was becoming too spoiled, they were allowing her to get away with too much in their adoration for their only daughter among a crowd of boys. She was young, a first time offender, but they became strict on her, curfews, restrictions and all sorts of rules she suddenly had to abide to. Lessons became harsh,
prayer thus now mandatory, and her parents almost cruel in their disappointments and loss. Cassandra only appeared to worsen, she slipped out under night from the farm, never sparing care or a glance, she began to mingle with the wrong crowd. The kind that induce empty promises and words to a youth barely of thirteen.

Her first overdose came at fifteen with scars burned into her torso, undone by the cherry end of a cigarette,
so that she might feel something.

Cassandra continued down this path whilst Jacob flourished in his new and sudden spotlight, she was a hopeless cause spurned by his betrayal to her. He no longer supported her in any given form, no longer saw her as that unique sibling when no one else was around. Jacob wrote Cassandra off without a singular glance and she learned to hate him vehemently.

Ironic then wouldn't it be that now they are all they have in the world, with their Grandmother roped between them. When Hell descended in the form of Blackened Rain, the farm perished, along with their parents and family,
life thus suddenly becoming a struggle when people came to rob them of their home; claiming the location beneficial to their own plights and chasing the survivors away. A few of their cousins came with, suddenly returning to the farm when their own lives became deformed and deadened. But Ghouls in the night reaped their remains as they traveled, following the promise of Refuge and safety, witnessing as horrid creatures tore them apart. Cassandra, unwillingly, relied on her brother and he came to rely on that queer intuition she began to develop through their trek.

They came upon a caravan of sorts traveling in the same direction, finding protection, skill, and mild tutoring among their troupe in order to survive. Cassandra slowly developed her niche for the bat and her compulsive orders to hoard, eventually electing herself to always scout ahead as they journeyed. Their adjustment into Refuge was slight, if not a little manic by her crippling addictions and horrid attitude. But they've adjusted thus far, if not for the sanity of their selves, then at least for their Grandmother's dwindling years.

. r e s i d e n c e .

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Top floor in a two story complex — faces out onto the coast with The Wall looming yonder her windows often left ajar.

. p r o f e s s i o n .

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. Scout — amateur navigator .
. Scavenger — dismantles pieces from her routine browsing .

. a l i g n e d . . f a c t i o n .

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Refuge Survivors.

. r e l a t i v e s .

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. Teresa Diaz-Pacheco — ⦗ 74 ⦘ . The Diaz Matriarch, surprisingly well preserved and sharp as a tack; albeit with a fine layer of rust. Lives with Cassandra on the bottom floor of their shared complex .
. Jacob Daniel Pacheco — ⦗ 32 ⦘ . Her slightly estranged elder brother, the two conflict often over the well fare of their grandmother and their contribution to The Refuge. Currently lives elsewhere within the haven and is a potential Recruit of the RSO .

. w e a p o n s .

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. Rail Bat . — Fond of the, now considered, near medieval equipment, Cassandra has opted for them as her main choice of weaponry. Call it a melee fanaticism. Her primary favourtism applies to a unique 'slugger that has been endowed with three rail road spikes to compensate for her psychical draw backs.

. .44 Revolver . — Because it's not always sane to bring a rail bat to a gun fight, Cassandra has had to dig out the Diaz handgun, upon the request to her elder, in order to secure her own safety when in pursuit of whatever whim has taken hold of her. And should her bats ever falter.

. Survival Knife . — A multi purpose tool designated for any assigned task; hacking, sawing, slicing with the trio edge design it's known for and it's ebon colour with a sawback that gives that primitive glamour. The 420 stainless steel blade was a gift originally from her brother when they first began their trek towards Refuge, Cassandra possesses a sort of harsh prejudice against its' use.

. e q u i p m e n t .

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. Backpack . —Usually kept barren, as such was previously used to contain various scraps and findings. She's traded such for a near threadbare knapsack, but finds herself drawn back to the token from a previous time when things were much more simple.
. Swiss Army Knife . —A basic necessity tool that as become a near life savour on numerous occasions.
. .44 ammo . —Her grandmother collected enough before they left their home, despite Jacob's protests that she use them.
. Rope . — Various lengths for a multitude of uses.
. Lockpick Tools . —Rusted and bit worse for wear, but locks often prove adamant despite common wear and she has a knack for finding objects of value and worth.
. Black Mask . —When scouting about or rooting around in relief and refuge, Cassandra adorns a black cloth mask over her nose and lips, stating it for functionality when you poke around in tangles of undergrowth and unknown flora.

. m i s c e l l a n e o u s .

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. Crumbled pack of smokes .
. Various lighters; mostly pocketed with her sleight of hand .
. A Diaz-Pacheco Rosary looped around her dominant hand — right — given from her parents .

. t r a d e . . s k i l l s .

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. Amateur Navigator . —Cassandra is adept enough with an implied sense of direction and keen memory, with a map in hand, be it crudely drawn in comparison from actual layouts, that she can find her way among most locations and pinpoint points of key interest.
. Scout . —With her navigating sensory within hand, Cassandra applies her sense into scouting locations deemed accessible and measures the scope of their potential uses and levels upon her intuition.
. Salvage . —When scouting and browsing through various selections, Cassandra brings it upon herself to gather various objects she finds worthy enough to be dismantled and salvaged later on. On routine, she tends to leave such aspects to those of assigned recycling, but her twinge of kleptomania often burdens her to keep junk to herself.

. t a l e n t s . . & . . h o b b i e s .

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. Dexterity . —Cassandra is freakishly flexible, bordering contortionist proportions.
. Heavy Hitter . —Cassandra likes to collect bats of various origins, make and use, not all are designated to become weapons. She just finds them queerly nice to have. She's not a terrible batter though, her swings are controlled and harsh, if not a bit manic.
. Smoke & Mirrors . —It comes so naturally, with embellishments and sly words, nothing that a biting grin of felidae manipulation can't achieve even during the crisis of a apocalypse.

. l i m i t a t i o n s .

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. Nicotine Addiction . —She's got a bad attitude even with a smoke betwixt her smile; without one she becomes ridiculously hostile.
. Kleptomaniac . —Cassandra sometimes cannot help her collecting penchants and refuses to explain them otherwise, even if what she hoards is labeled as primary junk and useless refuge.

[Jollan]

Basic Information

Name:

Garsin Folkvar

Age:

36

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

Anglo American Caucasian

Sex:

Male

Height:

6'8"

Weight:

round-about 400 lbs

Eye Color:

Hazel

Hair Color:

Dirty blonde/Sandy brown

Physical Disabilities:

• Sure as Hell not winning any awards in speed.
• Not first pick for "Who can shimmy down this hole?" (no innuendo intended, I swear)

Physical Identifiers

• He's huge if you haven't guessed, I modeled his build after Brian Shaw the strongman.
• Has a number of scars on his body ranging from insignificant to severe.

Appearance:

To say Garsin is large would be an understatement. He has the build of a strongman, seeming to tower over most people and tanned skin from spending a decent of time in the sun and around fire. While covered in heavy muscle, he does have a bit of fat on him that smooths him over a bit that keeps him from looking like a starved, veiny, unhealthy Mr. Universe competitor. He normally wears some patched up jean overalls with the shoulder straps off and hanging down, leaving a belt to hold his pants up. For a shirt, he just wears a simple black tank top.

If given the time during an attack or if planning to go outside the wall, he dons heavy armor and a treated leather pack to hold supplies. The armor covers most vital points and is a mix of various metals in certain places. the upper chest and helmet are titanium while the arms, lower torso, back, and legs are steel plates. The helmet has a visor made of about an inch thick of lexan, which can stave off most lower power rounds like pistol cartridges. It woulddn't hold back a full powered rifle however. The lens is only a slot in the armor giving him enough area to see, but not give up too much protection, but yes this does reduce peripheral vision. lastly the helmet is fitted with a hose that runs to an air tank that sits above his pack that he can use if the air is not suitable for breathing. if not on, air filters through the front.

helmet design

armor design

Biography

Before the end of the world as everyone knew it, Garsin was an avid natural bodybuilder hoping to compete in big time strongman competitions. As he started becoming more successful, he started entering competitions until he was making enough to stop working. Growing up however, his family owned a blacksmith forge and would make old tools, armor, and weapons as part of a medieval history tour or just to sell things online. Naturally, he found interest in this and would help his father with the forge when he had the time. When he quit working, he had even more time to spend with his father in the forge to the point that he ended up working the forge while his dad's supervised. Normally, of coarse, this would only be on his off time from working out and away from competitions. Another year went by and Garsin was on his way to a small competition in Washington, mostly to visit his cousin and show off "kick ass" armor he made out of titanium, which was no small feat and took a long time to save for the materials. It was then however that the weather and environment program was initialized, and everything ended.

Garsin was never able to hear word from any of his family. For all he knew they were long gone. The competition never took place, of coarse, and Garsin never made it to his cousin. Turns out, when all the plants were bursting forth, it made his cousin's house collapse on top of him, hopefully killing him quickly. It was not long after that he heard a rumor about the military setting up a refuge. They hadn't publicly announced it yet because it wasn't ready. Garsin tried to drive there, but after everything went down, his car ran out of gas and he had no way getting more. Instead, he decided to take his belongings and leave the car. He found shelter for one night that would haunt him to this day. While he was never found by the ghouls that now roam the outside at night, he could hear the screams of those that were. He didn't know what happened and quite frankly he didn't want to find out. The next day he decided to wear the armor and along his travels he picked up a bush ax from an old shed. It was another night that he somehow survived, though it wasn't without indecent. He had killed three regular ghouls that had found his hiding spot early in the morning, luckily there weren't any others, but he decided to move on before more showed up.

That evening, he reached what would later be called "refuge". The people guarding the place were frightened at first by the huge armored man, but quickly regained their resolve as they questioned him. Garsin told them that he would like to stay, but in exchange he would like to help in any way possible. Since then he has been smithing tools, construction supplies, armor, weapons, and anything else needed for the refuge. Most of his time in the beginning was forging supplies and helping to build the wall. Building the wall, however, was no small task. There were attacks by, bandits, desperate refugees, and ghouls alike. Over time, Garsin lost a majority of his armor except, the upper chest and helmet, though they did have some wear and repairs done to them from scraps of the broken armor. This is also where he gained a number of his scars from constant fighting until the wall was finally finished. Since then, Garsin mostly keeps to his job at the forge, working and teaching others, unless absolutely needed for fighting or scavenging.

Extended Information

Residence:

Across the street from the command center, on the same plot as the smithy

Hider

Profession:

Blacksmith

Aligned Faction:

Refuge

Relatives:

• Deceased

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• A weighted .44 magnum revolver modified to take short box magazines that feed sideways and hold eight cartridges a side. Instead of rotating a chamber it pulls the magazine from left to right. Once a side is used up, the magazine is taken from the right side, flipped and entered again for another eight rounds (the look is similar to the Bastard SMG in the Metro series). He carries five of these magazines on his belt, and has room in his pack for another five. Has a fixture on the end of the barrel to fit oil cans.
• A survival knife for hunting, bushcraft, and last ditch self defense.
• A heavier and more suitable for battle, bush ax. (a favorite, but he mostly keeps it at home unless really needed.)
• HIS FISTS! Especially if he has his gauntlets on. While they aren't armored like his forearms, the knuckles are made like sapper gloves. Fun for the whole family.

Equipment

• His pack contains a few medical items (some alcohol, gauze, wraps, pain killers, tourniquet, needle, fishing line).
• Water canteen. Old military style that had an insulated jacket and sat in a metal cup that can be used for food and drink. (Tied to and hangs below pack)
• Water purification tablets. (in a small pocket on the canteen's insulated jacket)
• Flint and some dry woodchips, some vasaline (petroleum jelly), and cotton balls in a small separate plastic bags.
• Dried meat and sometimes cheese. (Sealed in a bag in his pack)

Miscellaneous

• A flask for whiskey or other fun stuff.

Trade Skills:

• Smithing
  Can make equipment, tools, etc. from metals.
• Strongman
  He can move stuff, he can break stuff. This can apply to people, and things as well.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Woodcrafts
  Likes to take time to carve wood into simple toys for kids in the refuge. Also comes in handy when he needs to use wood in his creations for handles, stocks, and such.
• Good Listener
  He chooses his words carefully. Makes sure to get as much detail as possible before coming to a decision or giving advice.
• Hearty Fellow
  He is a big friendly guy all in all. Tries to help whenever he can, and tries to soften the mood and stay strong even if it means putting on a face to keep everyone's moral up.

Limitations:

• Freakin' Giant
  He is big and wears heavy armor making him slower than others, but by God, don't you get hit by him. Also means that tight spaces are a no go.
• Good Hearted
  While this may be a good thing, it can also backfire. Ever hear about 'Doc' mentality and never leaving a friend behind? If he thinks he can save someone, he will try. Its earned him enough injuries, a few insults for his stupidity, but high regard from the people in town.

[Rilla]

Basic Information

Name:

Geoffrey Geovanni Banks
A.K.A Double G.

Age:

25

Nationality:

American

Ethnicity:

African American. >>

Sex:

Male

Height:

Six Foot One

Weight:

Two Hundred Thirty One Pounds

Eye Color:

Deep Brown

Hair Color:

Black with Blue Dyed Tips

Physical Disabilities:

• Slight noticeable limp with left leg.

Physical Identifiers

• Tattoos ranging from his neck to his torso, as well as covering his back. Such include names of fallen family and friends, a large graveyard on his back with a pair of angel wings extending from each side.

Appearance:

Geoffrey is a tall, well built African American, usually spotted wearing at least one article of blue clothing, and never red. His dark skin, aside from what is covered in black ink, remains relatively unmarred denoting that despite his past, he managed to stay healthy.

His dreadlocks indicate that he has been growing them for quite some time and shows he has been taking exceptional care of them, despite the current circumstances of the world and Refuge. They reach a good ways down his body, and can often be seen styled in a bun, or held up by whatever cloth he can find.

As far as usual clothing, he prefers baggy jeans, and tighter fitting shirts, as well as numerous blue bandannas, often in his hair, on his wrist, or hanging from his left back pocket. Geoffrey prefers wearing sneakers to boots, and has a decent collection of somewhat run down Chuck Taylor's, mostly black or blue. When roaming shirtless, he can sometimes be spotted wearing a sleeveless unbuttoned jean vest, showing off his physique and tattoos, primarily the Azure Loco Crip tattoo etched across his stomach.

Biography

Geoffrey Geovanni Banks is the second born son to Lisa LeeAnn Morgan and Joseph Chamberlain Banks III. He survives both parents, and an older brother, IV. He was born on January 6th, of 2086, in a small town in Western North Carolina. At a young age, he turned to selling drugs and gangbanging with the local Crip set, known as the Azure Loco Crips.

Despite having above average grades in school, as well as being able to land a decent paying job, he always turned back to the life that took away his friends at a seemingly routine rate. To remove him from this life, his parents packed up and moved him up north, to Portland, Oregon. Things seemed to be on an upswing, the youth was back in school, had another job, and even a girlfriend. But regular correspondence, and learning that his brother passed in a rival gangs unknowing attempt to get at him, resulted in him reverting back to the menace his parents had tried to protect him from.

When things went to shit on Jan. 2nd, or more accurately January 3rd, Geoffrey took it particularly hard. Months later, his parents were caught by low ranking Ghouls as the trio attempted to cross over into Washington, heading for a Refuge camp they had been informed of.

Left alone, Geoffrey fought who be could and took what he could, until he made it to Brown Points.

Extended Information

Residence:

Small house on the west side of the Refuge.

Profession:

Shop Worker; Geoffrey's skill in wood and brick work allowed him to set up shop as a sort of shopkeep, selling, or more accurately bargaining for his skills and wares. The bigger the item, the more intricate or better materials, the more he asks in return. This can be negotiated based on several factors, including, whether or not he has to procure the materials for the request himself, or if they are provided for him.

Aligned Faction:

Azure Loco Crips, formerly
None in Refuge

Relatives:

• Joseph Chamberlain Banks III, deceased father.
• Lisa LeeAnn Morgan, deceased mother.
• Joseph Chamberlain Banks IV, deceased brother.

Personnel Data

Weapons:

• Ruger 9E Pistol, with two clips of ammo.
• Professional Baseball Bat, tinged red with blood.

Equipment

• Purple Bookbag, once belonged to his uncle who passed away prior to the events of January 2nd.
• Several Articles of Clothing.
• Map of North Carolina
• Makeshift tool kit

Miscellaneous

• A necklace containing nine pearls gotten for a former lover; it's referred to as a slinky design. The colors include purple, pink, blue, and white.
• Five full packs of Blackstone wine cigars
• Two lighters, he is notorious for losing them.

Trade Skills:

• Carpentry
  During his time in school, he took particular interest in learning a trade, this included woodwork, or Carpentry. Far from the best Carpenter, he does have some skill in crafting items, this helps with his job in the Refuge.
• Masonry
  He is most skilled at working with Brick and Mortar, having paid more attention in that class. His greatest achievement is being able to craft a grill out of bricks.

Talents & Hobbies:

• Talents
• Can 'n*igga-rig' things to function at some level, this can also be thought of as redneck ingenuity, or base level MacGyvering.
• Pretty decent salesperson.
• Hobbies
• Crafting items out of wood and brick
• Reading and Writing
• Smoking

Limitations:

• Obvious Limp
  His limp is noticable, despite his protests of it being the 'style'. It prevents him from being a swift mover, though he isn't incapable of running. This makes him least likely to be picked for any potential out of Refuge excursions, though he is willing to go if asked.
• Past
  He is unabashedly a gang member, and makes no attempts to hide it. This gives some people a certain impression, and that can limit his exposure to things and sort of make him an outcast. His attitude doesn't help the situation.