Burger

The Walking Dead: Belgium

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It was much to Leeroy's surprise when one of the survivors had sung that song. Eerie and ominous was the wrong way to put it. To Leeroy, the only thing that song meant was that whoever was singing it was obviously not right in the head. Dark humor was Leeroy's escape. That song was not humorous. But, putting aside the song, the group needed to go. Leeroy's hand gripped his metal bar as he went in for Michie, worried that he would have to kill Enrique. While it was something he was willing to do, he had never killed someone who was still unturned.

However, whatever moral ramifications he had would have to wait. Lucas, whom Leeroy never liked, had already jumped the gun. Stabbing Enrique in the back of the skull while speaking of death. The only thing that Leeroy could think was that Lucas, while Leeroy never had a high opinion of him, was bad news. He would be a major risk factor.

But now wasn't the time to bring it up. Hiroko's voice overcame whatever shock Leeroy had. Now was time to go - and Hiroko's exclamation was music to his ears. Without any further disturbance, he began to run.

The alleyway was a momentary haven. The fresh air, while filled with the stench of death and decay, was a welcome break from the smell of fetid arms clawing through windows with rotten blood and flesh dripping. Unfortunately, the only way out of was through a fence - one that was obviously chained. As Hiroko became panicked by the chain, Leeroy noticed a spark about her. Rather than break down, she constantly took command. She ordered two people to help lift the others out. In that moment, Leeroy knew that whoever this Japanese woman was, she was most likely the most trusty one here. In a moment that was uncharacteristic of Leeroy, he decided that he would be the first one out.

Michie had managed to reach the top of the fence first, ready to pull anyone over. Leeroy followed suit. He tossed his pole through one of the holes in the fence and began to climb the fence. Taking Michie's hand, he sprawled over the top, careful as to not jostle the fence or knock Michie off. After a quick glance around the street, it was apparent that the street was vaguely safe. Most of the walkers were occupied with the front of the building. Without any room to turn around, Leeroy jumped. His landing was less than spectacular. Legs first, his feet slammed into the ground. The momentum continued, causing his legs to buckle and, in a desperate attempt to stay upright, fall onto his back.

He quickly rose up, recovering from his fall. Grabbing his weapon he tossed through the fence, he was prepared to knock any stray walker that had decided to stroll near the fence.

World-Building Section

The Test Forum looks exactly like a World-Building section with how people have been using it.

@Holy Soldier

Then why change it?

From the Ruined World—Now Accepting!

Name: Dhalma

Age: 18

Appearance: Standing at 7'3", Dhalma is a giant compared to most others. Her skin is almost a ghastly pale, contrasting to her sharp brown eyes and black hair. Her figure is rather modest. Despite her massive frame, she's actually the runt of her family.

Personality: Polite and cold, Dhalma holds a visage of ruthless non-offense. She is incredibly worried about tainting her family's reputation, and as such, hides her true self. Her passion is the main force that drives her. Impulse is the force that controls her. She is incredibly joyful and loves speaking to others. Forcing her tongue to stop flapping once she has started to speak is incredibly difficult. Anger, however, is hushed. Always worried about hurting others, Dhalma couldn't ever think of hurting another person.

Equipment: Dhalma's equipment is rather utilitarian - a massive warhammer made out of bone and a small hammer made out of steel. She carries maintenance tools - a small anvil, waterstones, carving knives, everything that one needs to repair weapons - that allow her to repair the equipment of her allies. Her clothing is traditional and ancient - thick silks and clothes that had been tied by rope to allow for uninhibited movement.

Abilities: Dhalma has a unique physiology - her body has an improved system for the distribution of hormones and neurotransmitters. Along with this, she has an additional gland designed specifically to compliment the creation of hormones. At will, Dhalma can force herself into a fight state, causing her blood to circulate rapidly and spread. Her body, in response, unleashes a brutal cocktail of hormones and neurotransmitters, allowing herself to enter a "berserk" state. While in this state, she suffers from shakes, tunnel vision, and hearing loss. Her skin becomes flush and she is incapable of any advanced thought. Instead, she becomes a wild beast. Purely reacting on instinct, her reaction time and strength is increased.

This state, however, can't be held for long periods of time. It expends a large amount of energy, making overuse extremely difficult on the body. Staying in the state for any more than a few minutes causes a multitude of symptoms - sweating, sickness, difficulty breathing, headache, blurred vision, chest pain, confusion, and even seizures.

Besides her ability to enter a berserk mode, Dhalma is strong. Not fast, but strong. She can easily wield weapons meant for two normal hands in one hand.

Skills: Skilled in the art of smashing, Dhalma is untrained in almost everything except for maintenance. However, her lack of skill is a boon - learned fighters are often confused by Dhalma's moves.

History: The Horn Clan was always involved in the reclamation of Eunia. A highly traditional family, The Horn Clan had managed to retain ancient knowledge. Math. Literature. Metalworking. Bonecarving. As the centuries of survival began, the clan had always helped. Before the recreation of air travel, they were one of the only groups brave (or perhaps stupidity) enough to brave the unknown in hopes of finding others and reclaiming materials.

And as such, the clan is held in high regards. Even though their expeditions lead to nothing but their own death, their acts of providence over the embers of civilization had made the Horn Clan known to all. Even though their influence is constantly waning to the guild, most still respect the workmanship of their clan's steelworks and smithy.

For Dhalma, her birthright is nothing more than trouble. Ever since she was young, she was constantly taught to not disappoint her family. She would always have to be cold and aloof - the Horn Clan's princess. Despite only being a branch off of the main family, Dhalma was burdened with the weight of her family.

However, her dreams lied elsewhere. She didn't want to be burdened with the clan's politics. Everything in her mind was focused on one thing - the Guild. The earliest Dhalma could remember, the guild was there, braving the unknown to help the world. Of course the excitable and emblazoned Dhalma would want to explore! It was practically in her blood!

Much to her surprise, the clan allowed Dhalma to join the guild without much issue. Be it that they too understood that exploring the unknown was in their blood or the elders just wanting the ticking-time-reputation-bomb Dhalma to vanish, they trained Dhalma in maintenance, allowed her to carve her own hammer, and sent her to the guild to become an adventurer.

Other:
nah

From the Ruined World—Now Accepting!

Took a shred of liberty with the past. Don't know if it's gucci or not.

Name: Dhalma

Age: 18

Appearance: Standing at 7'3", Dhalma is a giant compared to most others. Her skin is almost a ghastly pale, contrasting to her sharp brown eyes and black hair. Her figure is rather modest. Despite her massive frame, she's actually the runt of her family.

Personality: Polite and cold, Dhalma holds a visage of ruthless non-offense. She is incredibly worried about tainting her family's reputation, and as such, hides her true self. Her passion is the main force that drives her. Impulse is the force that controls her. She is incredibly joyful and loves speaking to others. Forcing her tongue to stop flapping once she has started to speak is incredibly difficult. Anger, however, is hushed. Always worried about hurting others, Dhalma couldn't ever think of hurting another person.

Equipment: Dhalma's equipment is rather utilitarian - a massive warhammer made out of bone and a small hammer made out of steel. She carries maintenance tools - a small anvil, waterstones, carving knives, everything that one needs to repair weapons - that allow her to repair the equipment of her allies. Her clothing is traditional and ancient - thick silks and clothes that had been tied by rope to allow for uninhibited movement.

Abilities: Dhalma has a unique physiology - her body has an improved system for the distribution of hormones and neurotransmitters. Along with this, she has an additional gland designed specifically to compliment the creation of hormones. At will, Dhalma can force herself into a fight state, causing her blood to circulate rapidly and spread. Her body, in response, unleashes a brutal cocktail of hormones and neurotransmitters, allowing herself to enter a "berserk" state. While in this state, she suffers from shakes, tunnel vision, and hearing loss. Her skin becomes flush and she is incapable of any advanced thought. Instead, she becomes a wild beast. Purely reacting on instinct, her reaction time and strength is increased.

This state, however, can't be held for long periods of time. It expends a large amount of energy, making overuse extremely difficult on the body. Staying in the state for any more than a few minutes causes a multitude of symptoms - sweating, sickness, difficulty breathing, headache, blurred vision, chest pain, confusion, and even seizures.

Besides her ability to enter a berserk mode, Dhalma is strong. Not fast, but strong. She can easily wield weapons meant for two normal hands in one hand.

Skills: Skilled in the art of smashing, Dhalma is untrained in almost everything except for maintenance. However, her lack of skill is a boon - learned fighters are often confused by Dhalma's moves.

History: The Horn Clan was always involved in the reclamation of Eunia. A highly traditional family, The Horn Clan had managed to retain ancient knowledge. Math. Literature. Metalworking. Bonecarving. As the centuries of survival began, the clan had always helped. Before the recreation of air travel, they were one of the only groups brave (or perhaps stupidity) enough to brave the unknown in hopes of finding others and reclaiming materials.

And as such, the clan is held in high regards. Even though their expeditions lead to nothing but their own death, their acts of providence over the embers of civilization had made the Horn Clan known to all. Even though their influence is constantly waning to the guild, most still respect the workmanship of their clan's steelworks and smithy.

For Dhalma, her birthright is nothing more than trouble. Ever since she was young, she was constantly taught to not disappoint her family. She would always have to be cold and aloof - the Horn Clan's princess. Despite only being a branch off of the main family, Dhalma was burdened with the weight of her family.

However, her dreams lied elsewhere. She didn't want to be burdened with the clan's politics. Everything in her mind was focused on one thing - the Guild. The earliest Dhalma could remember, the guild was there, braving the unknown to help the world. Of course the excitable and emblazoned Dhalma would want to explore! It was practically in her blood!

Much to her surprise, the clan allowed Dhalma to join the guild without much issue. Be it that they too understood that exploring the unknown was in their blood or the elders just wanting the ticking-time-reputation-bomb Dhalma to vanish, they trained Dhalma in maintenance, allowed her to carve her own hammer, and sent her to the guild to become an adventurer.

Other:
nah

Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0

My name's Lena, and I devour the rear-ends of your female companions

whom'st consume the rear posterior?

From the Ruined World—Interest Check

I'll join in, if you'll have me.

The Sky And The Earth II - A Fairy Tail Adventure Reborn

Converse to my dry spell recently, I don't want to be rushing ahead without letting people make posts if they're still busy over the NYE break. So this is just a post to ping those who've not posted yet to ask about plans.

If you need/want to do a collab with me to streamline conversations with any NPC or Illedrith, just let me know, I'll be more than happy to help out!

@Lord Sawsaw2

Biding my ninja time.

The Walking Dead: Belgium

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L'Effet Cumule'.
Reflechissez Et Devenez Riche.
L'Amour.

Leeroy had thumbed through the books on the ground. He didn't understand a lick of French. It was a fruitless effort to find something useful for him. Nonetheless, he still searched through the books for something useful. Anything that could teach him something would be useful - survival handbooks, the anarchist cookbook, even a nudie mag would suffice. His search for anything useful came up with nothing. He couldn't even tell what anything was with all of the French titles.

Earlier, Leeroy had been dismantling shelving and reinforcing the windows. He had been doing a good job of it. But besides that, Leeroy had been doing nothing. Searching for anything useful in a bookstore was difficult. Tinder was everywhere, but flammable objects weren't in short supply. Without much to do, Leeroy had decided to try to rest up. Picking a nice spot in the corner of a booth, Leeroy sat and tried his best to catch any bit of sleep he could.

His dream was frightening. This time, he was a shambling corpse. No control of his own body, but fully lucid. Simply trawling through the streets, moving with the legions of walkers. It felt like an eternity to be trapped inside of that prison he called his body. Thankfully, his sleep had been broken with a crash of a door and plenty of screaming.

"...the fuck...Enrique?!"

"Gott...Wir...tot!"

"Quit...got company!"

The yells of the others had been obfuscated in the confusion of Leeroy waking up. Another slam. Groans. This was serious. Leeroy's stupor was instantly cured. Moving quickly, he grabbed all of his things. He slung his bag over his back and kept the two make-shift knives tied with rope on his thighs. He left the booth, grabbing his glorified stick and went to assess the situation. The glass began to shatter. Leeroy had faith in the barricades, though he didn't trust the nails to be a permanent solution.

"The fenced off alleyway next to the building. We can use that to escape," a calm but accented voice said.
"We aren't leaving Enrique!" A voice had screamed, replacing the first.
"Let me finish. A gate connects it to the street. We can use it to maneuver around the walkers before they attract more. Do we have a plan or not?" the first voice finished.

Leeroy ran to the front of the store only to see Enrique on the ground with the scavenging party around him. With no more than a cursory glance, he could tell that Enrique was, for lack of a better term, fucked. Michie had been holding the door shut as legions of walkers tried to break through.

"Enrique's fucking dead. He's been bitten!" Leeroy sternly stated to Michie, "whoever tries to carry him is going to die when they finally bust through." His words were harsh, but Leeroy didn't want to die. If need be, he would shove a knife directly into Enrique's soon-to-be-turned skull. Trying to carry out Enrique, who was little more than a ticking time bomb, was an extreme risk. One that he wasn't willing to take.

The Walking Dead: Belgium

Leeroy McConnell

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^{"Adapt or die - and I'm pretty good at adapting."}

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Name:
Leeroy McConnell

Gender:
Male

Age:
28

Ethnicity:
Caucasian

Appearance Description:
Leeroy stands at 5'10" with a thin build. He has numerous scars, mostly on his legs and arms. Despite his practicality, he wears his bomber jacket at all times.

Birthplace:
Spokane, Washington, United States

Former Life:
"Used to be a tradesman. Then I did odd jobs. I guess that makes me funemployed."

Gear:
Shortened Pinch Point Bar (3.5 ft)
2x Shiv
Hand-crank Flashlight
Large Backpack
Large Metal Bottle
The Ed Gein Special: 2x Pork'n'Beans
Can Opener
Claw Hammer
Metal File
Box of 50 Nails (23 left)
Small Tarp (6ft x 6ft)
30ft Rope
Assorted Tapes (Duct, Hockey, Grip)

Skills:
Pre-Apocalypse
Inventive
Quick Thinking
Good Craftsman
Fast Learner
Wide General Knowledge

Post-Apocalypse
Survivalism
DIY
Dismantling Objects
Adapting to Dangerous Situations
Carrying Heavy Loads

Likes & Dislikes:
Being alive
Practicality
Creating things
Hoarding things
Stubborn people
Risk-taking
The mental ramifications of death
Wasting supplies

Personality:
Leeroy is, at his core, a survivor. He's willing to do anything to survive. While his morality is a huge moral grey zone, he still has shreds of human decency and will help others, so long as it doesn't put him in too much danger. Adaptivity is another one of Leeroy's strong suits; his thinking is always fast. Even if it's not the most optimal solution, Leeroy can quickly solve problems. He has a rather big soft spot for dark humor. It helps him cope with the sense of dread that goes along with an apocalypse.

Biography:
Born in Spokane, Leeroy was like any other Spokanite; he wanted to leave that city. But, Leeroy never had the opportunity to leave when he was young. He was never blessed with money. His father barely made ends meet. His mother was absent; his parents had been divorced since he was only a baby. Despite this, Leeroy made his time in Spokane as entertaining as he could. He was resourceful enough to find what little the city had to offer him.

As he graduated high school, his options were limited. Money for college simply wasn't there. As such, he went into trades. His career constantly shifted. From welder to painter to carpenter, Leeroy did it all. He slowly saved his money to move away from Spokane, a dream he had since he was a teenager. But, years later, his career turned upside down. A drunk driver had managed to push Leeroy off the road and directly into a tree. According to the doctors, it was a miracle that he survived. For the money he saved, it was a less than a miracle. The crash decimated his savings. His dream of moving away from Spokane was dead. However, rather than giving up, Leeroy considered it a fresh start. He would simply have to try harder.

During his two years of odd jobs and penny pinching, he met a Flemish girl online. They hit it off and after two years of conversations, they made the decision to meet each other. He got on a plane and flew to Brussels where the two would meet. After arriving, shit began to go down. Those things began to rise. They hid away in the girl's home and prayed that it would just blow over.

It didn't.

It was to Leeroy's surprise when the girl vanished. She left a note apologizing, but that was it. She just left during the night. Leeroy was on his own. As Brussels fell, Leeroy adapted. He was always resourceful. He began to collect things. Anything that would be useful. He managed to acquire his gear from a hardware store. He dismantled anything that was useless in this new world - damaged cars, televisions, computers - and made tools out of them. Anything he needed to survive. He read some books on the outdoors. Things to eat and whatnot. The things themselves were dreadful. Leeroy, thankfully, only had a few choice encounters with them. He always avoided swarms. He was going to survive through this. He wasn't going to die.

Other:
He has two hideouts. One containing nothing but dismantled garbage, the other containing somewhat useful materials and tools that are too risky to carry with him. Both are only accessible by the fire escape.