Avatar of ChaoticFox
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 581 (0.15 / day)
  • VMs: 2
  • Username history
    1. ChaoticFox 11 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
Current "If you break before me, I swear that I will take away your pain and worry. I'll bring the light back to you." - Cevilain, Better Angels
9 yrs ago
He said "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave!"
2 likes
9 yrs ago
Down on your knees, you don't look so tall. Open your eyes and the empire falls!
9 yrs ago
Rebooting "It's a Lonely World" RP, posted in Casual.
10 yrs ago
If I lived everyday like it was my last, the body count would be staggering.
2 likes

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Most Recent Posts

Sounds like a plan, I look forward to it
Sounds good. I'm up for it.
@Azseth Nice to see such a dedicated and understanding GM. Looking forward to this RP so much. I'm already growing attached to my character, thanks for inspiring her!
So when are we thinking of actually starting this RP? Not being impatient, i'm genuinely curious for a timeline. If I sound impatient it really isn't intended.
New chapter in Triss' story released in IC! And I have a feeling that it would make sense for Triss and Leon to find each other. I dunno, just thinking out loud. Think what you will.
01:00
March 9th, 2017

Triss opened her eyes to darkness. Pure and total darkness. But no, it wasn't total darkness. Little spots of light dotted the sky. Stars. She looked to her left, the campfire just barely smoldering, radiating the tiniest amount of heat in the cold of the night. She was laying flat on her back, just as she had been when she blacked out.

Wait. She had blacked out.

The realisation of what happened hit her like a brick wall, along with the pain and weakness that her injury had caused her. She lay there groaning and clawing her fingers into the dirt, her shoulder throbbing. She suddenly felt cold, her body began to tremble uncontrollably. "What's going on?" her mind raced, trying to reconstruct the events of the night before. Or was it a few nights go? How long had she been there? Questions with no answer, at least no answers that she had. She sat up slowly into a semi prone position, leaning on her good arm. She pulled herself towards the remnants of the fire, trying to warm herself. It was only when she put her hand down in the sticky, partly dried pool of blood from her injury that she realised why she felt so cold. She looked to where the pain was, but there was no evidence on the outside of her jacket that she had been bitten, besides a few small frays in the fabric.

And then a noise. Nothing too loud or scary, but loud enough that Triss froze on the spot, chills running down her spine. She forgot about the pain, the cold and the panic all in this instant. It was as if her senses were heightened somehow. She grasped her bat in one hand, moving herself across to the tree with her legs and support from her good arm, leaning against it.

And then without warning, the creature revealed itself. Clawed paws dug into the ground, beady black eyes staring at her. The creature had a jagged silhouette as if it had spikes on it's back.

The raccoon slowly approached her and Triss let out a sigh of relief, looking to the small animal "I....I d-don't have any food l-left.." she trembled, talking to the raccoon as if it could understand her. It stood up on its back paws, sniffing the air before it decided that the prospect of food wouldn't prove true and began to walk away from her, leaving her alone once again. The crickets chirped in the night and Triss swore she heard a wolf howl, but it was nothing to worry about as it sounded far away. She reached for her pack, remembering the few supplies she had collected in the sad excuse of a first aid kit. The moon emerged from the clouds, providing just enough light for her to find the ziploc bag filled with cloth and tattered bandages.

The sun had begun to rise as she managed to finally to tie the knot in the makeshift sling, supporting her wounded arm enough that the pain calmed down to a dull roar, rather than a blazing fire. She looked in her bag once again gulping down the last juice box before standing up, albeit it slowly, and walking on right past her father's mangled body. She was exhausted, in pain and running on minimal food. Her mind didn't even process the fact she had killed her father -or what he was- only hours before she awoke. And so she walked, searching for....well, she didn't know what she was searching for, only that she had to keep going or surely she'd be dead.
If anyone want to find my character, be it in her current state or otherwise, in the past, feel free to leave a mwssage
02:00
February 15th, 2017

The screams echoed through the night sky as Triss and her father ran down the poorly light roads, blood still dripping from both her bat and her father's arm. The events of ten minutes ago still hadn't completely processed in Triss's head, but only one word was going through her head in this particular moment. Run.

Her heart pounded against her chest as they hopped what seemed like the hundredth fence. The lights were getting dimmer now. They must've been getting close to the edge of the city by now. She hoped they were getting close to the edge. Away from the people, away from the bodies, away from the monsters. She couldn't believe she was running this fast. Or was her father just running slow? Was he sick, like the rest of them? Had the bite already started to take effect? "No." she thought "Not the time for this. Keep running." she willed herself on, through the alleys and down the streets, past the barking dogs and car alarms. Run.

*****

09:00
February 22nd, 2017 One week after Day Zero...

They had been running for a week now, running on nothing but granola bars and juice boxes. The first night had really shown her what fear was, but instinct had kicked in and now all she thought of was "Survive."
Her father's condition had gotten worse. They'd stop for a rest and her father couldn't stop coughing. Worse yet, Triss thought she had seen blood come out once. Maybe it was her imagination. Maybe not.

That's what scared her the most. The zombies were nothing anymore. They didn't scare her much now, no. It was the fact that she may be on her own now. That's what scared the hell out of her. Being alone in a world where every living thing, and most things that weren't, were trying to kill you.

But she couldn't think like that, not now. They continued on through the brisk weather, cold trembles running through her body sucking every last bit of warmth from her. She clenched her hands in the pockets of her parka, trudging through the cold, wet grasslands, the mud under her boots sloshing at each step, freezing her feet to the bone. They hadn't seen people in days, and even the ones they had seen then were running and had no interest in them. Her fear of being alone was slowly coming true. "No, we have to keep going....he needs medecine. He needs to live." she repeated to herself, quiet enough so that her father couldn't hear.

*****

19:00
March 8th, 2017 Three weeks after Day Zero..

The crack of a match warmed her for a split second before the wind picked up and blew out the little flame of hope in her hand "Damn it" she swore under her breath, her hands trembling. She moved to the other side of the unlit camp fire, putting her back to the wind. Another crack, another flame. She shielded this one with her free hand, moving it slowly towards the small pile of twigs and with a satisfying burst of warmth, the fire lit. It was slow at first, but Triss was patient and as she added slightly bigger pieces of wood, it lit and rewarded her with a sizable flame. She stuck her hand in her bag, grabbing one of the few remaining granola bars from her bag before realising she hadn't seen her dad in ten or fifteen minutes. As she went to open it, something groaned behind her and a massive pain shot up her shoulder.

Everything happened so fast. Almost as if an animal instinct had taken over her body, Triss reacted on pure adrenaline, knocking him off with a swift elbow to it's face before running over to where she had left her bat against the tree. She picked it up in one hand, grasping it lightly with her injured arm before winding up and hitting the zombie as hard as she could across the head, before beating it to a pulp. She collapsed on the ground, completely drained of energy, only managing to crawl over to the fire before spots flew across her vision and a warm liquid ran down her arm. She lay there, bordering unconsciousness as blood flowed slowly from the bite. Then it all went black.
Name: Beatrice “Triss” White
Group: None, will update if this changes.
Age: Thirteen
Occupation: Student

Family life:
- Mother: Maria Connors, deceased after giving birth.
- Father: Aaron White, left the city with Triss, deceased.

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Appearance:



Triss, while being fairly young is still quite strong, having developed her skills and strength in competitive rock climbing and in track and field events. She stands at around five feet tall which while being no where near the average male RA, gives her surprising agility and speed to outrun and outmaneuver them.

If visible, she has a few scars on herself from encounters on her journey, be it from the RA or other people, though the more prominent one is a bite mark just above her left shoulder of human origin. Her hair is just between a deep and a light brown with slight flecks of red scattered about within it and her storm grey eyes show an unquenchable fiery determination to push on. She weighs in at about 97-100 pounds with an average, yet more toned build to her.

Blood type: O -
Immune: Yes

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Gear:
Triss is never seen without her New York Yankees ballcap or her military surplus backpack. She carries a bloodstained wooden baseball bat in her hand at most times and a small folding knife clipped to her belt, more as a tool than a weapon. Other than that, she travels quite light, having only the clothes on her back along with her light parka in her bag. Her usual clothing consists of worn out jeans that look like they've seen better days, a white (used to be white anyways) tank top, light hiking boots and her ballcap. She would also have clip on cleats on her bag, able to be attached to her boots rapidly if needed.

Along with the parka in her bag is a mountain climbing thigh harness, about 100 feet of light rope (Strong enough to support her body weight easily) wrapped up tightly and neatly and a grappling hook with folding arms. To finish off, she carries a rather unimpressive first aid kit scavenged from various sources and an aluminum water bottle clipped to the outside of her bag. A small AA battery powered MP3 player and earbuds is usually found in her pocket, for the few down times she gets.

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Bio:
Beatrice was born into a fairly well off family, living what was probably just above the average American life. She started playing sports when she was only four years old, starting with soccer in the elementary school league and moving up the competition as she got older. Though her mother died just after Beatrice was born, her father loved her dearly and raised her as a single dad for eight years, before he met another woman that would eventually step in as Beatrice’s step mother.

In these eight years, her father raised her to be less of a “girly” girl and more of a tomboy, playing more sports like football and baseball, as well as getting into competitive rock climbing. She was second to a boy two years older than her at the time, in both speed climbing and endurance climbing on open mountain courses.

After her father started dating this new woman, Beatrice became a very quiet person, and while she still actively trained and competed in her sports, she was not the same person. The counsellors called it survivor’s guilt, as the new woman reminded her of the fact her life had been what killed her mother. She became more reserved and rarely interacted with either her father or stepmother.

When the Rising started making news headlines globally, Beatrice started to worry, but life went on normally. At least for a little while.

Then one night, all hell broke loose. Beatrice woke up to screaming. A man screaming. Her father screaming. She grabbed her baseball bat and slowly opened her door. Down the hall, her stepmother was biting into her father’s bicep. Beatrice took all the guilt of killing her mother and slammed the bat as hard as she could into her stepmother’s neck with a sickening crack, killing her instantly. Her father nodded to her and they began collecting their things, before running out the door. A few other cries of pain echoed through the night, but they kept running.

A week later her father started getting sick.

Two weeks later, he was biting into the shoulder of his only child before she put him down.

Now that was both her parents she had killed.

Triss' Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjW4_OlhKfo
Read it, writing it as well. Busy day.


@Azseth Done and sent!
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