SheriffLlama

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Merely an updated, but I've edited my post to add a part for Abram, so... aye. Farewell.

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Sylar Macey - Outpost - Meghan Cordon/People of Haywood

Sylar trudged through the camp with a dull haze in his head. He spotted the figure of one of the militia men, whose name was... Ben! Yes, that was his name... hopefully. "Hey! Ben!" He called, silently praying that it was, indeed, his name. He walked up to the kid, and gave him a mock salute. "Do you know where Meghan is?" Ben slowed a few feet away from him, and grimaced.

"I think she went back to y'all's cabin- Dude, you smell like sh-"

"Yeah, thanks, screw you too." Sylar said and walked past the kid. He scratched his beard and started towards the smallest cabin in Outpost with exhausted eyes. He looked around at everyone he passed. When someone smiled at him, forced a fake half-smile back at them. With relief, he opened the door to their cabin. He saw Meghan standing beside her bed, sliding into her navy blue pea coat. She brushed the wrinkles from her black jeans. She looked up and her faced brightened, matching her annoyingly happy attitude.

"How'd the council meeting go?" Meghan asked.

"Myriah wants everyone to try and learn sign language. I'm probably going to have to help teach." He said, stripping his jacket and throwing it to his bed. "Where you going?" Meghan went to the door.

"I'm just going to take a walk."

"Alright well, I have to go on patrol duty later tonight, so I don't know if I'll be here when you get back." Sylar sat down on his bed. Meghan nodded and left the cabin, closing the door behind her. She walked off the porch and onto the dead ground. She watched as a cabins dimmed and people began to go in doors.

Abram Chamberlin - The house - Floyd and Jess

Abram woke with a slight irritation in his eye, which he wiped away with his right hand. He stood up and gazed out the window, gripping his pistol tight. He'd kept it with him just in case there was need for it in the night. He looked into the other room to see Jess and Floyd eating breakfast. He walked in and gave Jess a smile. He then turned to Floyd. "I kept this with me just in case I needed it in the night, but 'ere you go." He flipped the pistol and extended the handle towards Floyd. "All yours." He turned and picked up his bag. "I'll be leaving like you asked now."

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Abram Chamberlin - Floyd and Jess' House

As Floyd walked upstairs, Abram grinned to himself. He liked this guy... He was as tough as nails, and man, did he look like he had some guts. The man sat on the floor against the wall, his arms hanging on his knees and his hands clasped together. Floyd wanted him gone, that was for sure. He wanted to take care of Jess by himself, and Abram knew he must respect that decision. It was a stupid choice, yes, but Abram didn't want to fight Floyd. He might have imagined that he'd overstayed his welcome, but one must be welcomed in the first place for that.

Abram couldn't protect them, but he could help. He stood and picked up his rifle, cautiously going outside and returning inside with a box of sixteen cans of food. He silently carried them upstairs and laid them in front of Floyd's door. He quickly made another trip to the car and retrieved the two boxes of 9mm ammunition and set them on top of the cans. When he was finished, he went back downstairs and slept again the wall.

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

So I thought I'd make another character just because all the cool kids have one.

Appearance : 5'11, 195 lbs
Name : Sylar Macey
Age : 32
Skill : Speaks 4 Languages (English, American Sign Language, Russian and French)/Decent Shot with crossbow
Weapon (up three): Crossbow, 4 arrows/Hunting Knife
Personality: Bad - He comes of as a jerk, but deep down is a good guy. Good - He is compassionate for anyone who has trouble speaking a language, as he spent time learning languages himself.
Brief Bio : Sylar grew up in Astana, Kazakhstan, where he learned to speak fluent Russian. From the age of 13 to 18, he lived in France, where he learned french as well. He moved to America at 19 to go to college and has no family in america. He had to shoot his best friend in the head when he was bit by a walker.

Appearance:
Name: Meghan Cordon
Age: 17
Skill: She is good at speaking to people
Weapons: Glock 17/Small Knife
Personality: Meghan is a glass-half-full person and she tries to make the best out of everything(Which completely clashes with Sylar's attitude)
Brief Bio: Meghan grew up in Louisiana and knows the New Orleans area fairly well. She was adopted in a family at the age of 6, but is the only one remaining, due to the outbreak.

PS: I'll be posting soon, sorry for the delays.

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Abram - The House - Jess and Floyd

Abram listened to Floyd after Jess left the room. He sat in chair, watching the man's facial movements. There was one thing that stared the man in the face; this guy obviously didn't like him.

"I'll stay as long as you'll let me. Heck, if you want, I'll pack my stuff and drive away right now." The man cocked an eyebrow. "However, you'll force me to leave with a guilty conscience." Abram straightened his posture in the chair. "Sir, I know that you're looking out for the girl." He crossed his arms. "However, you've been shot. I know how it feels; I've been shot a total of four times. The last time, it took someone larger than me to get me to safety; his name was Master Sergeant Daniel Crowe... He was good, that boy was."

"My point is that it takes a lot to defend someone who's injured. I can tell that your friend is a fighter; she's tough!" He motioned his head at the ceiling. "But she's still just a little girl; she can't lift you and carry you to safety. I still stand by my earlier statement, but I honestly don't think that letting me stay at least until you've recovered is not a terrible idea. I've served three tours in Iraq and two in Afghanistan; I know how to defend my friends."

"Now: Let's talk about the elephant in the room." Abram exhaled exaggeratedly. "You don't like me. It's not hard to see. I'm a black man living in the south, I know contempt when I see it. I don't know if it's a racial thing or the fact that I used to be a soldier, but we are obviously not on the same page. I can't do jack to change that."

"I do believe that you two think I am the stupidest man alive." Abram chuckled when the man didn't respond. "Look, buddy, I know that you're not that her baby's father. Heck, I would have been surprised if you were. She's, what, nineteen? You've got to be in your later twenties. Something messed up if you were the little baby's daddy. Don't worry, I ain't holdin' nothing against her; heck I'm even glad she didn't tell me the truth, me being a stranger and all."

"I'll also admit that this ain't the first time I've seen Jessalyn, either." The man adjusted his seat. "I used to live near the old catacombs. See, you live in New Orleans so I'll bet my rifle you know who Tyler and the Raiders are. From my window, I could see every girl that went in to that hole and never came back. Three weeks ago, back in November. "Big Man" Tyler, himself took that girl in. Sound about right?"

"I also saw, that same week, the attack that destroyed the catacombs. I don't know who was at liberty for it, but I do know that the raiders are no more. But they did leave a ton of walkers for me to put a bullet in. I'm guessing that you rescued Jessalyn from the raiders during the attack. You ain't a raider, so much is obvious. And you're on your own so I suppose that army of firepower wasn't yours either."

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Abram Chamberlin - House - Floyd/Jess

Abram nodded to the man in respect, trying to be as polite as possible. "Evening, sir." He said. He eyed the man's empty left hand, as he right was concealed by the door. "I was just looking for a place to stay tonight; I don't mean any trouble." Abram took account that the man looked fierce, and would probably be a challenge to fight. "How about- uh.. How 'bout I just dischamber the my round and you can get rid of whatever piece you got in your other hand, there." He carefully gripped the slide of his gun, making sure that his hand was clear of the chamber, before pulling the slide back and ejecting the round.

"Now- don't take this the wrong way, but you look like you're in bad shape, pal." Abram said. "My car is up on the road and I've got food. Plenty of it, too. So I'm hoping we can... maybe work something out and not start a firefight?"

The Walking Dead : Among the Ruined - Season 2

Abram Chamberlin - New Orleans

Abram Chamberlin had decided to move; and so, three weeks after the firefight outside his home, he loaded all of his supplies into his Ford Focus and drove away. He gripped the steering wheel with his hands and pulled a sharp left to avoid a walker. On the console of the car, his pistol sat in the holster instead of a soda can. The man's eyes kept focused on the road, but his mind seemed to wander. He recounted the past few days in his mind, as he often did when he had time on his hand- which, come to think of it was all the time.

It was when his gas meter rang that he stopped the car. He climbed out of the door, pulling the pistol from the cup holder, and quickly glancing to each direction, to the right; woods, behind and ahead, the road, and to he left, a long driveway led down to a house in the woods. He considered checking it later, but for now, decided to refill his car. He went back to the trunk and popped it open. Two red gas cans sat beside his diminishing supply of canned food. In total his cans amounted to about twenty-four. Abram took the filled cans and pulled open the gas lid. He patiently poured the first can in, then proceeded with the other. After he screwed the cap to the tank on and shut the lid, he returned the cans to the trunk and closed the back of the car.

Presently, Abram returned to the driver's side of the car and climbed in, starting the vehicle and shifting in to drive. He pulled into the long driveway and continued toward the small house. As far as he could tell, the place was relatively safe and void of walkers. He pulled to the front of the house and shifted into park, grabbing his rifle from the seat beside him and climbing out of the car. He slung the rifle over his shoulders and brought his pistol to firing position. With marksman's skill, he kept his gun level to position, stepping close to the door. He gripped the doorknob, but cursed as he found it was locked. He had half the mind to blow the lock to pieces or to smash the door, but that would have been counterproductive. It was then that he heard a man's voice. It was ever so faint, but with his ear close to the door, he made out words.

"Wake up... Jess, wake up" He didn't know if the man said more, as he pulled his ear away. It was a good thing that he hadn't shot the lock to pieces. A man and a woman were in the house, though he doubted the house belonged to them. Then again, what belonged to who didn't really matter squat, nowadays. With that, he knocked roughly on the door, then backed up to his car, hoping it was far enough not to frighten whoever answered the door. He lowered his gun and waited for the door to open.

Abram Chamberlin

Walking Dead rp

1SG Abram Chamberlin - New Orleans/Vicinity of the Catacombs
((Did I do the bold thing right?))

Abram Chamberlin came to with trained reflexes and sudden movements; the cans had rattled in the alley behind the building. quickly, he seized his pistol with his right hand and proceeded forward with expert movement. The man quickly moved to the alley window, one of three windows in the apartment. This window gave view to the alley and onto the streets adjacent to both sides, the one facing east gave view to the street directly outside it.

Abram peeked out of the window to examine the line of rope that held up his improvised alarm system; a series of cans and spoons that clanged whenever moved. A single biter had straggled into the line and now observed its surroundings with irritation. The man didn't bother to open the window and put an end to the creature; instead he simply slid the black blinds closed and returned to his business. "God bless you're hell bound soul, my friend." He muttered quietly. He laughed quietly to himself; God must be taking a nap...

The man scratched his beard absently, but then stopped to examine himself in a wall mirror. He was still as fit as ever; maybe he'd lost a few pounds, but at 6'2 and 200, he didn't worry about becoming scrawny. He was, however, aging. His dark beard had been come slightly peppered and no longer bore strong emphasis to his dark face, but it wasn't close enough for him to be thought an old man. He slid a hand under his shirt and lifted the hem a little bit. "Yikes..." His formerly defined abs were not at all what they used to be, albeit sixty days in hell could do a lot to one's physique.

Presently, Abram dropped the hem of his shirt to his waist band and proceeded to the north-facing window. This was his most prized besides his setup on the roof, where his tripod rested. This room was the only room on the uppermost floor of the building, and he'd pushed every piece of furniture except the bed to block the stairs. Nothing was coming up and nobody was going down. The only access to the building lay on the roof; a single ladder that somehow managed to reached the top.

Abram pulled the window blinds apart and looked outside. His eyes set hard on one place; the catacombs. Said place was the residence of terrible men who were to low to be called demons. These men held women for breeding stock; he'd watched them bring countless women and girls through the front gates. Only a few days ago; about three or four, they'd hauled in a woman and a young girl. Upon taking a glance at the teenage girl through his scope, he saw that she couldn't be a day over fifteen. He'd also noticed that her face reminded him of someone, but he couldn't remember who.

Walking Dead rp

So... uh... Hi. I'm Sheriff/Llama/SheriffLlama.... now that thats been covered I shall reveal certain facts that some of you may find interesting. I'm Panda's brother and I love Walking Dead. (If you don't care, just ignore that) Here's my application.

Appearance:
Name: Abram Chamberlin
Age: 33
Skill: Marksmanship and Leadership. He doesn't excell in hand to hand combat, though.
Weapon (up three):
M24(Common Military Rifle) 1 Full clip and a single box of 7.62 rounds.

M24

Beretta M9(Standard Pistol) plus 20 extra rounds.

Beretta

Personality : Abram is very tactically oriented, and scopes(Heh... see what I did there? Scope) things out before executing plans. Unfortunately he is untrusting and solem because his all but one of his men were killed by bandits and raiders.
Brief Bio: Before the initial outbreak came, Abram was the First Sergeant of his squad and therefore the leader of it. However, when the outbreak came, Abram assisted on his Master Sergeant, Daniel Crowe, sneak from the base before they were deployed so that Daniel could find his father and sister. A few days after the event happened, the squad was found out and all were dishonorably discharged from the US military, including Daniel who was discharged for desertion.

(PS) I know that the background involves Panda's character, but we already talked through it.

Greetings, Earthlings.

Greetings, one and all. My name is SheriffLlama.... you can call me sheriff... or Llama.... or SheriffLlama... I literally just joined this site, but I am not close to being new to Roleplay. Let's see; I'm a very passionate writer.

Oh! And my older sister is OutlawedPanda