ONL

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady AmaltheaSeen as I'm day 6 and Alexander just dozed off, that means I need to make a dream-post, right?

Band of Bastards- WW2 Heist/Espionage RP

@Force and FuryI wished, but seen as @DepressedSoviet@JDolan@Ulstermann have seemingly dissapparead from the face of the Earth, we're most likely just in a state of limbo. Now if there was just some way of gaining their attention and give them a good trashing....

Endless Darkness [Open 1-2 spots]

Guthrie

Location: Barracks
Interacting with: Everyone

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Other settlements...other people...Guthrie hadn't that of that before, not even as a passing thought that might wander through his mind just before falling asleep. All his life he had focused on the matters at hand, the physical issues that he could see, smell, feel and hurt, but outside of that? It made sense, though, who knew how large those caves and tunnels truly were? And if their small part of civilization had survived, surely it had done so elsewhere.

But most importantly, more people meant more witnesses for the Creature that murdered his parents. That was what really caught his attention.

"A week's travel, aye? That's not too bad. And as long as your order, this Black Sun doesn't treat my companions as bad as that priest, I can do nothing but allow you into the party. But..." Guthrie turned his attention to the Twins. He saw the anticepation in their eyes fixated on Zara as if...well, Guthrie didn't know, but it seemed important. "Sala, Vala, what is your answer...answers? Are you two fine with allowing her into our fellowship?"

Why We Fight? (WWII with superpowers)

@shylarahGood to know, but hey, I'm not the GM :P

Edit: @ayzrulesPardon my French, but Jesus Christ, she really doesn't want to go on this mission now does she? xD

Why We Fight? (WWII with superpowers)

@Oak7reeI'll be in Gdansk from the 8th till 12th, but hopefully I'll have some form of internet connection there.

Now just to wait for the others to post...*starts twiddling his thumbs impatiently*

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

Haakon J. Elvsgaard

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Location:Qasr El Nil Barracks

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Water. Running water. The feeling of liquid floating past his feet, his legs, his waist...but why?

Haakon opened his eyes to this unfamiliar feeling of him standing waist-high in water. As he opened them, he saw where he was; The Nile river, the River of Life and grand civiliations of time-immortal. Yet something was different, very different. He turned to see Josephine standing on one bank of the river, and the odd lady with from before. A name floated in his mind; Nora. The rest was a mist, or more like a flood akin the running river he found himself standing him; the river he found himself stuck in.

No, this was no ordinary dream, not even the one that had haunted Haakon's mind for the recent past. This was a nightmare. The water he found himself pooling in his hand was not water, but something thicker and crimson. Blood. And it was rising. Haakon looked at the two others, desperately crying for them to leave, but words he could not muster. Not now, and not after the river of blood rose above his head, drowning him in the liquid of life.

His eyes sprung open. No, he was not dead. But perhaps something worse than death awaited his eyes to behold. All around him, Josephine and Nora were crimson red, wet and thick. They were drowning in blood, yet he could breath. Then his mind finally fathomed what he saw. A pyramid stood between the three of them, of a size Haakon could simply not comprehend. And somethng broken. A seal. A broken seal.

What did all of this mean?

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Haakon felt his awareness come back to him just as he rolled violently over and out of his bed. With a loud thud he hit the floor of his room, leaving a small feeling of pain in his cheek. Where was he? What had happened? Where were Nora and Josephine? Just as quickly as he got back up on his feet to find out what the heck was going on, he remembered. He remembered the previous day, the small dinner between him and Josephine, the meeting in the Nile with the frail-looking woman and the undescriblable branding on their fingers, the congregation in the Museum and the journey home from the barracks and the chase after Abbas. He remembered the stern talk of silence and secrecy at the hotel, the search and interview once again at the barracks, and him going to sleep.

Yet it was this dream that disturbed him the most, for it confirmed one thing; that all of those past events were not merely coincidences. There was something very, very strange going on, something he was slowly starting to realize not logically explainable. But what? How? Why?

Haakon wanted to do something. Something to process what had just befallen him, but he was at a loss. With nothing to write or type with, he couldn't write down his account to use for later reference, nor could he draw a sketch of the scene that had appeared before him. He sat down at the bed for a minute, wondering what to do. In the end there was only one thing he could think of, and he seriously did not relish the thought of it.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: Newnan Hospital

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If there was one thing the old man, now trodding up the snowy front yard of a large brick building all alone, hadn't missed down south in Florida, it had been the cold weather. Not that he wasn't used to it, but he suspected it had something to do with him being and old-ass man with too many hours enjoyed in the Caribbean sun. For a split second he wondered if he'd prefer Vietnam over this Hell, but only briefly as he came back to his already tense senses. Standing closer to the large building, he could read what the worn-down letters said;

"Newnan Hospital..."

While he hadn't experienced what he could only imagine were massive slaughterhouses of infected during the inital outbreak, he had by now figured out that hospitals and the like were hotspots. At least for a while, because for all intents and purposes, the hospital now in front of Alexander seemed empty. Regardless, he holstered his M9 Beretta and took hold of his fireax before entering silently through the front door.

It was open, as if ready for him to enter. Quietly making his way in, Alexander could see just the entrance-hall more or less in shades of black because of the darkness. He held his breath, moving his gaze back and forth across the room, taking in anything and everything of sound or smell. But as he only heard the outside world, and smelled the dirt and decay, he made his way upstairs. The further he went, he followed the same proceedure; checking every door through the key-hole, under the door or by peaking very quitly through it. For each room he found, he both prayed and cursed silently for them being empty. No Walkers, but nothing of use either.

Only God knew how long he spent searching through the second floor; hours or just a few minutes? It felt like weeks and months, because the axe-wielding old man was getting tired. Tired of walking; tired of searching; tired of running and fleeing, and tired of this endless road to nothingness. He just wanted to sleep. Alexander peaked in through one last door, finding what he imaged had been one of those baby-rooms. It was empty, save for a few blankets left behind by scavengers. Who knew how long ago that had been? Who were they? Where were they? Or were they all dead by now? Questions that Alexander tried to push further and further back into his mind as he grabbed one of the blankets and made his way downstairs again. He had learned - the hard way - that heights was a bad thing if escape was needed. He snuck into one of the rooms he'd already cleared and did his best to wedge the door with what rubble was left behind. He wasn't sure that it would hold back any Walker forever, but it would sure as hell make enough noise to alert him of their presence. If outnumbered, he could always get out of the window. Easier to jump from the first floor than the second.

But now he was tired, and so he crawled up in one of the corners and wrapped the blanket around him, while silently speaking to himself. A series of pictures were placed in his left hand, while his right hand held the pistol. Sooner rather than later, he kissed one of the pictures, tucked it away safely, and closed his eyes. What he would do tomorrow, or the day after that, he had no idea. Now he just wanted to sleep.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady AmaltheaDone and done. Looking forward to losing my limbs in a horrible fashion ^^

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

Alexander Polawski

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Alexander Polawski

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Character Summary

Name: Alexander Polawski
Aliases: Mugs, Mugsy, Baby Boomer, Alex
Age: 59
Birthday: 8th of March, 1952
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Birth Place: Chicago, Illinois
Location: Somewhere between the Bamahas and Miami
Gender: Male
Major/Minor: Electronic engineering
Occupation: Store-owner, electronic appliances. Formerly Specialist, US Army radio-operator.
Languages: English

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Appearance

Height: 5ft 9 inches
Weight: 160lbs
Build: Aging, but still somewhat fit
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown, now mostly greyening
Skin Tone: Light
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Small gunshot wound at his left thigh, various cuts and bruises at his hands and arms. Burn-scars in both his palms. Left leg amputated below the knee after the beer-trap incident.

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Psychology

Battle-hardened * Emotionally enclosed * Caring * Compulsive * Determined * Mentally scarred

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Widowed
Personality:

If the first years of the apocalypse hadn't already turned Alexander into the stereotype of the Vietnam-veteran, then the last year certainly did. Alexander was partly responsible for the massacre at Eden, killing countless Eden-asswipes while losing two of their own random strangers, bringing him all too much back to the days in 'Nam. Him losing the last pictures of his wife was perhaps worse though, as her face fades more and more; while his exterior appears stable and focused, the truth is that the "Show-no-emotion" grunt-mentality has kicked in once again. He's haunted by flash-backs from various parts of his life, including post-outbreak.

The event of losing his foot and half his leg could have broken Alexander even more, but instead it made him more determined than ever. Having already seen what the loss of a limb did to so many veterans before him, he knew that he neither wanted to or could let himself become a liability for the others. So while he's experiencing more flash-backs than before, he's also more determined to prove that he has a place in the group beside being the grandpa. The ol' veteran, Mugsy, wants to show that he's still kicking, even with one leg less.

Habits: Fiddles with a rosary, running his hand down and around his missing leg, having flashbacks of 'Nam.
Hobbies:

• Tinkering with anything he can get his hands on, especially electronics.
• Wondering where one can get a god-damn peg-leg these days.

Fears:

• Losing his rosary, pictures and the likes.
• Getting intoxicated.
• People knowning his whole past.
• Becoming a liability for the group.

Likes:

• Fish
• Tinkering and working with his hands
• Walking around
• Cleaning
• Alone-time
• The Rolling Stones
• Coffee
• Walking on his own

Dislikes:

• Disorder
• Enquisitive people
• People touching his stuff
• Rice
• Heights
• The Kinks

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Cards On The Table

Pre Outbreak Skills:

• Rifle
• Radio operator
• Electronic engineering
• Sailing
• Fishing

Post Outbreak Skills:

• Axe fighting
• Pistol
• Navigation
• Basic farming
• Route-planning
• Basic carpentry
• Jury-rigging electronics
• Suppression Tactics
• Close Combat Fighting
• Redneck Amputee Engineering

Current Supplies:

• Current Clothing - 1 pair of boxer briefs, long sleeve red henley shirt, khaki pants, running shoes, pair of white socks, black belt, Redneck Pegleg
• Rosary
• 1 9-volt battery
• 1 compass
• 1 map of Florida - worn out
• 1 hammer
• 1 box of nails - 14 left
• 1 walking cane
• Bed sheet - linen
• Tube of Neosporan - half gone
• Bottle of Oxycontin - 10 left
• Bottle of water - full

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History

Your First Walker Encounter: The lack of response from the local coast guard on the Bahamas was met by a growing feeling of something being wrong. That's why Alexander turned his boat around from his wife's and his annual boat-trip around the Caribbean, and headed to the closest port he could find. Earlier news on the radio about riots had concerned the couple, but this was different. Alexander called over and over again over the radio, stating his boat's name and coordinates, but received no reply what-so-ever. It wasn't until they saw the harbour itself that they saw that something was indeed very wrong.

At first Alexander thought it was the Bahamas Coast guard that was watching them approach land, but they were too many to be simple them. Then he thought it was a group of tourists waiting for their boat. They all seemed to shout at their boat, but it wasn't until they got ever closer that they saw it; Them. Around the group of people all cluttered up, Alexander saw people all bloodied up, attacking those in the middle with vicious ferocity. Biting, clawing, grabbing and eating them. They weren't simple shouting at them; they were crying for help. As quick as he could, he managed to get some of the people onto his boat and sail away, leaving behind those now lying dead at the pier and the rest, moaning and grabbing after the boat as it sailed away.

History Before Outbreak:

Born into what can only be described as a pretty normal, American family in the 1950's, Alexander was raised by his father alone in the smack-middle of Chicago. His mother had died shortly after giving birth to, which had its impact on both his father and himself. The following years were a big mix of angrily shouting at one another for various reasons, and the peaceful fishing-trips they took on Lake Michigan. That was were his mother had wanted them to be, sitting in a boat and talking happily to each other. Life was good, at least out there. Back home it just got worse.

After turning 18, Alexander wanted to show that he could do whatever he wanted, especially when his father repeatedly told him what he expected of his son. Get an education, get a wife and settle down, just like he had done. Alexander on the other handed wanted excitement and a sense of purpose. His father told him to stop dreaming and listening to his friends. What did they know of adult life after all? That's why, alongside his buddies, he signed up for the army and went to Vietnam. It was to give his father a big "Fuck you". He regretted that decision ever since. Sufficient to say, he found Vietnam ever devestating, even for Nixon's slow withdrawal of US troops. Alexander was assigned and trained as a radio-operator, doing whatever his NCO told him to do and calling in air-strikes at those sorry bastards in the jungle. He survived, though not without scars, both physically and mentally.

Coming back home after three years overseas, he went straight to his father's funeral. Hit by a car on while drunk, a quick and painless death he was told. He hadn't cried during combat, but now he could hold back the tears no more. And so he promised to do what his father told him. Get an education, find a wife and settle down, which was exactly he did. He graduated from the University of Chicago with a degree in electronic engineering, which earned him a decent job with a radio-manufacturer on the East Coast. That's where he met his wife, Judith, and where he also set up his own store for electronic appliances and repairs. But one thing didn't change; his life in a boat and love of sailing.

History Since Outbreak:

The small group of survivors, now sailing away from the Bahamas pier, soon had more trouble than simple overcrowding. People began to turn, leading to several bites before the infected either got thrown overboard, got their heads caved in or both. It was soon apparent that while they could be somewhat safe on Alexander's boat - the inability of their attackers to get onboard from the water being one proof -, it was far from a long-term solution. Who could tend to the wounds of those attacked? Where could they go to find the army? Government? Anyone who could help? What would they eat? Soon they all agreed to sail for Miami as quick as possible. Surely things couldn't be worse there.

To a certain extent, it was worse. They were met with the same sight Alexander and his wife had seen days before. Larger crowds of people at the docks, all angrily grabbing after the boat as they remained just out of distance. Docking in Miami was scrapped, and they decided to sail northward to find a more suitable harbour. As hours passed, more of the wounded began to turn, forcing Alexander to do something he hadn't done for years; kill someone. He had kept a pistol in his boat just for safety, but never dreamed of using it. When he did, over and over again over the coming days and weeks, he felt the black hole grow bigger inside his chest. Once they found a suitable pier somewhere north in Florida, their group had shrunk from 21 to 13. It would only shrink ever more.

They made a plan. A simple plan, but one that might work; gather up supplies of various sorts, sail out to an island off the coast, and try to live out there in isolation. The previous plan had been scrapped after a few days of staying on land, showing the dangers of living in close proximity to highly-populated areas. Both the infected and those still sane - as the group thought of it before the term "Walker" reached the group - posed a threat to them. It was best to live away, isolated and alone. The first months were harsh due to a constant lack of food and water, not helped in any way by the fact that none of the group actually had experience with farming beside gardening. Fishing helped, but only so far before they slowly began to grasp the concept of agriculture. They were hungry, but alive and safe for now. Walkers didn't appear that far out.

That was two years ago, before someone on that island died. Before anyone could react, the corpse sprung back to life, mauling its way through his wife's neck and others. Nobody knew how it had happened, at least those still alive after the incident. Regardless if the island was safe or not, Alexander couldn't stay there anymore, not after that. Some remainded there for various reasons, Alexander did not. If the island wasn't safe anymore, then why should they shy away from the mainland? More land, more people and more resources. It was a gamble worth taking.

Alexander and his now smaller group travelled through Florida, up north into Georgia for a better climate, though that was as far as their planning went. For Alexander it was just good enough to get away from past, and from his mistakes. They would have to learn to do better, to adapt or die. Some died, but the others learned. Scavening on their way north, they found whatever they needed to survive and more. Alexander himself found the use of walkie-talkies that he fixed when splitting the group into smaller parts. It was easier to sneak around the Walkers that way. Then the snow came, and an already weakened rag-tag group of survivors didn't fare well in the winter cold. One wandered off into the night in search of food, another was bitten by a Walker during sleep. The rest were killed when their shelter were overwhelmed by Them, while Alexander got away. Of that, however, he isn't proud.

It was by pure coincedence that Alexander ran into two ladies with a TANK, and even more that he didn't get shot through that whole day. After failing at his social skills like a lawyer in a kindergarten, bringing back a tea-set and coffe mug brought the trust (and his used nickname) with it as the three found another group. He didn't then and still doesn't truly know why he joined in the assault on Eden, but from then on he stuck with them. Then they went south for Florida, but along the way Alexander lost half his leg to a damned bear-trap, turning him into the cripple he feels like now. But he refuses to let that stop him; the alternative, he would rather not live through.

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Extras

Character Quote:
"I'm getting too old for this shit..."
"The past we cannot change, but the future we can. Let us focus on that."
"Sure I can fix it, just give it to me!"
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
"Forgive me Father for this bullshit..."
Theme Song: Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones
How Many Walkers Have You Killed: "I have no idea, and I don't care."
How Many People Have You Killed: "I don't know, and I don't want to know..."
Why: "None of your business. You'd rather not know."
Anything Else:

• Dog Tag Information:
  • Name: Alexander Polawski
  • Serial Number: 351-28-9463
  • Branch: US Army
  • Blood Type: O Positive
  • Religious Preference: Catholic
• I'm just going to leave this here for no apparent reason.

_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy.}

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Alexander Polawski relations sheet

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Relations

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Alexander Polawski

"Do they need me, or do they pity me?"

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣[hr.][hr.]
🎆♨️ Thana Martin ♨️🎆
"Where are you, Navy Blue?"
Where is Thana? Is she alive and just stuck out there, or...Alexander doesn't know. For a while he assumed she would return and things would go back to 'normal', but that didn't happen. She never returned to that house, and as time continues to roll forward he is losing hope that she's alive. Perhaps he does miss her ordering them about and the familarity of the military side of her, but not her pity. Anyway, being MIA and KIA carries little difference those days. He still prays for her though.

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💛♨️ Thalia Carmichael ♨️💛
"Thanks for sticking with me."
With the loss of Thalia's hand, one'd think that things between her and Alexander would get worse: Now they have two amputees in the group, worsening their chances of survival. But their friendship and respect has been steadily growing instead. Alexander is still thankful that Thalia stuck around after he lost his leg, and he wouldn't dream of doing anything different by her and her hand. And hey, it adds up to something else they have in common, like their backgrounds in electronics.

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💙🎆 Beatrice Decker 💙🎆
"A friend knows when and where not to ask questions."
The friendship between Alexander and Beatrice hasn't changed much over the last weeks of survival, with the two unlikely friends maintaining the status quo from after the Battle of Eden. Beatrice still refrains from questioning about Alex's past, and he refrains from asking about hers. When Thana left, Alexander feared for a moment that Beatrice would look for greener pastures instead of sticking around two amputees and an old doctor. But she stuck around, and he's glad she did.

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💙 Emanuel "Manny" Newman 💙
"Hey Manny, sorry for threatening to kill you earlier. You're a good guy."
With the loss of a leg and being that doctors are a breed rarely found those days, Alexander wouldn't want anyone but Manny by his side to keep him patched up and walking. Things is that for a while Alexander started closing up to him with Manny asking about his past, going back into the shell of his old self. Thankfully Manny stopped with that, and now Alexander is glad to have their Shotgun Dentist by his side. They all need him more than ever before.

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🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady AmaltheaUpdated! No further need to edit it, so I'm all good.