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So are we doing a post order or first come-first serve and the others will assume to act with the group until they post?
Samuel’s face twisted into a grimace as his eyes followed the smoke rise from the front of the ambulance. ‘It’s always something, isn’t it’, he thought to himself as he pushed down on the clutch and reached down from the steering wheel with his right hand to lower the gears. As the 18-wheeler came to a stop, Sam pulled the keys from the ignition and threw them into his pocket. He hid his flask of whiskey beneath his seat before throwing open the door to his left and swinging his legs outward. He took his time getting down from the truck since his left leg was asleep from the drive and his back was giving him some trouble.

As he shuffled to the ambulance he caught sight of Hunter kicking the Humvee. ‘Young kids – they’re such hot-heads’ he thought to himself and smiled. His face remained stolid as he leered into the open hood of the ambulance and caught a large whiff of the scent of burnt flesh. There wasn’t much that could surprise him before the outbreak and he was starting to get that way again with so much overexposure to these things. Hunter must have smelled that flesh too and by his ‘exhibition’, he probably estimated it would be a difficult fix.

“Now I don’t mean to step out of line or nuthin’ --” he began with a slow drawl, “but I reckon’ there ‘aught to be a stream or somethin’ nearby we could use to at least cool it down while ya’ll engineers work on a real solution. Worst comes to worst, we could hitch it up to another vehicle and drag it to the nearest city.” Samuel gave a light nod as he clarified, “But you’re the officer and all and it ain’t much matter to me so long as we get outta here. Georgia may seem to have her britches in a bunch but she has a point. I think them things can smell us and they’ll probably head this way soon.”

He noticed how stressed and down-trodden Hunter had been when he asked for ideas and he gave him a fatherly nod before giving the surroundings a quick look-over. Trees. Trees. Nothing but trees.
Oh gosh looking at all of these other characters Jackmier is going to be so out of place. A man who wears a tattered suit and a fancy wrist-watch with an ether addiction working alongside a college girl and a elderly farmer.

This'll be good.


I was thinking the same thing! It took an apocalypse to get these three people in the same vicinity! I can't wait.
Full Name (And nickname if applicable): Samuel Fox Taylor (often called Sam)

Gender: Male

Age: 61

Height: 5’11”

Appearance (May be picture or written description): Samuel supports a large stocky frame with broad shoulders and a thick neck. While old age may have weakened him, his occupation has kept him strong. Muscle tone is clearly visible mostly on his arms but somewhat on his back and shoulders. He sports the distinctive dark farmer’s tan on his arms, and sock area. Excessive exposure to the sun and old age have carved countless line onto his face and a small bout of skin cancer that is visible but benign on his left forearm. His facial hair is usually kept at just a bit more than stubble but after the outbreak, he's been worried about it less and it's gone a bit more wild. Lastly, his left eye squinches a bit more than his left eye and the vision in this eye is less keen but his other eye usually works well enough for the tasks at hand.

Former occupation: Farmer

Current Job(s): Driver and scavenger (he was a truck driver during some of his younger years)

Weapons of choice: He was very close to his shotgun but with ammo running low, he now prefers to use an old brown ax from the farm due to its balances swing, the distance it keeps the undead, and its low chance of breaking. He also appreciates the other functions the ax can perform. However, he is not keen on the way that once you commit to a swing there is no turning back as well as the effort required to remove the weapon from an undead’s body.

Gear of choice: He managed to grab a few air filtration masks that he use to use when he worked with pesticides as well as a handful of bandannas in case something happened to his mask. He also carries with his a medium sized brown ax. He also carries around a large flask of whiskey that he's been nursing since the outbreak.

Personal Items (if applicable): He carries with him a small packet of mixed seeds in case the world ever goes back to normal or if he ever stays in one place long enough to grow them.

Bio: Samuel Fox Taylor was born and raised in Kansas to a poor family that were able to farm a slight excess of what they needed themselves. As soon as he could get his driver's license, he applied to work for a trucking company to transport goods across the unites states. He wanted to see the world, to get away from the small town he grew up in. He spent 7 years with the same company until he met Annie at a diner in Texas. He fell in love, got married, quit his job, and used his savings to purchase a small plot of land to settle down on and to farm.

It seems nothing good can last and eventually Samuel began to spend more time at the bar, coming home late, and spent very little time with his wife who began to resent him. He constantly begged for him to show that he loved her -- or any emotion at all for that matter. One day, after working in the fields, he went to the bar and came back to find that Annie, and all her belongings were gone.

Since then, Sam spent more and more time at the bar and his addiction began to develop further. Eventually he lost the land he had purchased and became homeless. Shortly after this, the outbreak occurred. It was difficult to believe at first. Since he lived in such a small town, it took a long while for the infection to reach them. It wasn't until a large herd of undead came travelling toward the town that everyone began to take things seriously. He spend a while on the run and eventually ran into the convoy. He hesitated joining initially but eventually decided this could be his last chance to do good by other people.

Other: He gets a little grumpy when he hasn't had alcohol in a while (but he tries to hide his problem).
Full Name (And nickname if applicable): Samuel Fox Taylor (often called Sam)

Gender: Male

Age: 61

Height: 5’11”

Appearance (May be picture or written description): Samuel supports a large stocky frame with broad shoulders and a thick neck. While old age may have weakened him, his occupation has kept him strong. Muscle tone is clearly visible mostly on his arms but somewhat on his back and shoulders. He sports the distinctive dark farmer’s tan on his arms, and sock area. Excessive exposure to the sun and old age have carved countless line onto his face and a small bout of skin cancer that is visible but benign on his left forearm. His facial hair is usually kept at just a bit more than stubble but after the outbreak, he's been worried about it less and it's gone a bit more wild. Lastly, his left eye squinches a bit more than his left eye and the vision in this eye is less keen but his other eye usually works well enough for the tasks at hand.

Former occupation: Farmer

Current Job(s): Driver and scavenger (he was a truck driver during some of his younger years)

Weapons of choice: He was very close to his shotgun but with ammo running low, he now prefers to use an old brown ax from the farm due to its balances swing, the distance it keeps the undead, and its low chance of breaking. He also appreciates the other functions the ax can perform. However, he is not keen on the way that once you commit to a swing there is no turning back as well as the effort required to remove the weapon from an undead’s body.

Gear of choice: He managed to grab a few air filtration masks that he use to use when he worked with pesticides as well as a handful of bandannas in case something happened to his mask. He also carries with his a medium sized brown ax. He also carries around a large flask of whiskey that he's been nursing since the outbreak.

Personal Items (if applicable): He carries with him a small packet of mixed seeds in case the world ever goes back to normal or if he ever stays in one place long enough to grow them.

Bio: Samuel Fox Taylor was born and raised in Kansas to a poor family that were able to farm a slight excess of what they needed themselves. As soon as he could get his driver's license, he applied to work for a trucking company to transport goods across the unites states. He wanted to see the world, to get away from the small town he grew up in. He spent 7 years with the same company until he met Annie at a diner in Texas. He fell in love, got married, quit his job, and used his savings to purchase a small plot of land to settle down on and to farm.

It seems nothing good can last and eventually Samuel began to spend more time at the bar, coming home late, and spent very little time with his wife who began to resent him. He constantly begged for him to show that he loved her -- or any emotion at all for that matter. One day, after working in the fields, he went to the bar and came back to find that Annie, and all her belongings were gone.

Since then, Sam spent more and more time at the bar and his addiction began to develop further. Eventually he lost the land he had purchased and became homeless. Shortly after this, the outbreak occurred. It was difficult to believe at first. Since he lived in such a small town, it took a long while for the infection to reach them. It wasn't until a large herd of undead came travelling toward the town that everyone began to take things seriously. He spend a while on the run and eventually ran into the convoy. He hesitated joining initially but eventually decided this could be his last chance to do good by other people.

Other: He gets a little grumpy when he hasn't had alcohol in a while (but he tries to hide his problem).
Also going to post a sheet after I get back from the gym hopefully!
Count me in if you'll have me!

You have an audition process or something to that extent?
Interest here! I actually enjoy the slice of life idea but if magic becomes involved I will probably still stay just because how often is there a bakery rp? [:
Name: Zambura

Domain: Zambura is often seen as the goddess of cowardice, ugliness and toadyism.

Personality: Feeble and outwardly submissive, Zambura has often been disregarded as far as gods are concerned. Perhaps this isn’t without just reason considering her creations don’t often amount to much and most have resulted in nuisances for everyone else. It’s not that she is without good intentions, she is just a very unfortunate god – think of a cowardly Don Quixote and you roughly have Zambura.

Appearance: Zambura’s primary form is somewhat humanoid from the shoulders up. However she is lacking a face, only a pale yellow fabric covers what most assume to be her cranium. The rest of her body seeps down into a mass of oily fat, with cockroach-like legs protruding from her large body that struggle to drag her weight around. The word often used to describe her is disgusting.

When she appears to mortals she prefers to take on the form of a pale, slight-framed boy, seemingly around the age of 9. This suits her so as not to appear threatening or intimidating. In this form she is most able to gather the intel she requires.

Symbols: Nematodes, rotting meat inhabited by maggots, sweat, and any green-brown color.

Trivia: Many attribute the creation of the cockroach to Zambura.
Name: Zambura

Domain: Zambura is often seen as the goddess of cowardice, ugliness and toadyism.

Personality: Feeble and outwardly submissive, Zambura has often been disregarded as far as gods are concerned. Perhaps this isn’t without just reason considering her creations don’t often amount to much and most have resulted in nuisances for everyone else. It’s not that she is without good intentions, she is just a very unfortunate god – think of a cowardly Don Quixote and you roughly have Zambura.

Appearance: Zambura’s primary form is somewhat humanoid from the shoulders up. However she is lacking a face, only a pale yellow fabric covers what most assume to be her cranium. The rest of her body seeps down into a mass of oily fat, with cockroach-like legs protruding from her large body that struggle to drag her weight around. The word often used to describe her is disgusting.

When she appears to mortals she prefers to take on the form of a pale, slight-framed boy, seemingly around the age of 9. This suits her so as not to appear threatening or intimidating. In this form she is most able to gather the intel she requires.

Symbols: Nematodes, rotting meat inhabited by maggots, sweat, and any green-brown color.

Trivia: Many attribute the creation of the cockroach to Zambura.
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