NO MAN's LAND: the THAW - a Survival RP (OOC/On Hiatus)

[Deramen]

Name: Locust (real name: Justin Hadsly)
DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Add how much ammo you're carrying but ACCEPTED.

---

Hmm, I cant think of any characters (Man im rusty). You guys got any ideas?

Could bring back Father Gregory and the girl?

Hmm, could work better now that its a fresh start. Eh Why the hell not? I'll dig up the apps and probably update them. Also location wise put where the action is!

[Beiarusia]

Hmm, could work better now that its a fresh start. Eh Why the hell not? I'll dig up the apps and probably update them. Also location wise put where the action is!

So Raton, NM probably.

[Deramen]

Hmm, could work better now that its a fresh start. Eh Why the hell not? I'll dig up the apps and probably update them. Also location wise put where the action is!

So Raton, NM probably.

As long as I can face "emotional" challenges.

[Sarejo]

Westley has also heard of a new war brewing out West, between factions from Arizona and Nevada, and the Californian Empire, and rumors had it some of the fighting may spill to the south.

Gres this is what I meant. I believe you had creative rights pertaining to Nevada and Arizona.

[New Grestin]

Westley has also heard of a new war brewing out West, between factions from Arizona and Nevada, and the Californian Empire, and rumors had it some of the fighting may spill to the south.

Gres this is what I meant. I believe you had creative rights pertaining to Nevada and Arizona.

Noted. I have a few ideas for that particular aspect of the story.

Might actually get some use out of the Republic for once.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

I'd like to join, so I'll probably throw an app up later this week.

[Sarejo]

Gres this is what I meant. I believe you had creative rights pertaining to Nevada and Arizona.

Noted. I have a few ideas for that particular aspect of the story.

Might actually get some use out of the Republic for once.

War. War. War. War. War. War!

[New Grestin]

Noted. I have a few ideas for that particular aspect of the story.

Might actually get some use out of the Republic for once.

War. War. War. War. War. War!

Not exactly...

[Partially Blind People]

Fair enough. Also, if you have any major plots in the work could you TG me a brief summary. I have a few ideas but don't want anything to go counter to one another.

Also, where is Thomas (think that was his name)?

I'm not really sure where to fit him in, but I was planning on him being part of the resistance against the Empress.

I might also just have him die, agonized and alone, wondering what mistake he made to end up like this. Filled with regret as he bleeds to death in a pool of his own vomit.

Or, ya know, just say he disappeared.

Could have Tommy convince him Jen is awful and they both escaped together?

[Mesrane]

Name: Davis McKinnon
Birthplace: Lewiston, Idaho
Ethnicity: White
Age: 34
Pic/Description: Standing at 5'10," Davis is not a particularly tall man, but has grown stocky and well-muscled over the years through time spent outdoors. Thick, golden blonde hair cascades down to his shoulders, kept reasonably clean and neatly trimmed only through great effort on his part. The blond stubble that usually coats his cheeks has recently grown out into a short beard. Blue eyes and a pale complexion. Ancestry that he claims is a quarter Nez Perce gives him higher than usual cheekbones. Davis wears a worn green flannel shirt over an even more worn Nike t-shirt, along with jeans and recently acquired hiking boots which are in better condition. The pine tree logo of the Montana Rangers is sewn into his shirt.

Occupation: Ranger (formerly)
Equipment: -A .45 M1911 pistol with two magazines, good condition
-39 .45 rounds
-A scoped M14 in decent condition, though with no ammunition
-A machete, good condition
-worn red hoodie
-A dead iPod.
-strips of beef jerky along with some crackers
-half a bottle of Glenfiddich Scotch whisky

Immunity: Full

Personality: Stolid and usually imperturbable, Davis is not easily shaken and is extremely slow to anger, always choosing his words carefully and engaging everyone in a polite manner. In fact, he hasn't ever been fully enraged, so nobody, himself included, has any idea what that looks like. Usually well-mannered and even-tempered among strangers and acquaintances, his dry sense of humor will eventually reveal itself among trusted friends.
Skills: Decent marksman, extremely physically fit. Years spent with the now-defunct Montana Rangers have honed his survival skills.
Likes: Davis has a near-obsessive affinity for old-world music, of all types and stripes. He just can't get enough of it, and will search for it wherever he goes. Besides that, he enjoys a good whisky and has a soft spot for settlements that have established law and order that is both efficient and just.
Dislikes: Raiders, tribals, lawlessness, cats. He can't fucking stand cats.
Fears: For all his stolidness, Davis is still deathly afraid of losing those he cares about, and cats practically make him tremble (will explain below).

Bio:

Born in 2009 in Lewiston, Idaho, Davis had an affinity for the outdoors from a very young age. His father worked at a local wood pulp mill and his mother was a nurse. Davis would often spend his weekends hiking in the mountains with his siblings, until the day the plague came to Lewiston. His father took the family up into the mountains as law and order began to collapse around them. Though Joseph McKinnon's log cabin provided temporary refuge, he could not feed his family of six for very long and eventually had to bring them back down to Lewiston, roughly a year after T-13 had ravaged the country. From there the McKinnons made for Missoula, Montana, but raiders fell upon them on the outskirts of the city. Davis' entire family was killed in the attack, and the seven year-old boy's life was saved only by the intervention of mysterious cloaked men who picked off a raider band three times their number with remarkable ease.

The men who saved his life revealed themselves to be Montana Rangers, a 1,000-strong order of former national guardsmen and police officers who provided protection for the Helena Union, a loose confederation of towns in Montana.

Soon after crossing the state line, Davis was adopted by Jon and Karen Murray, a couple living in Helena. Thereafter his life returned to normalcy, though it took Davis awhile to accept the Murrays as parents.

Life in Montana seemed for a time like it work out for Davis. He acquired his own ranch near Bozeman at the age of 23 and settled down there after marrying Kathryn Taylor.

That was before the arrival of the warlord Boone from the Dakotas. Boone's army devastated much of eastern Montana and attempted an attack on the Union, only to be repulsed by the Rangers. Davis took up arms and joined the Rangers in order to repel the attacks. However, Boone's already large army was swelled with reinforcements and he attacked again. This time the Rangers were too few to meet him head on. Over the course of three years the Rangers used guerrilla tactics to wear down the raider army, but not before Boone had put Billings, Great Falls and Bozeman to the torch. Davis lost his adoptive parents and his wife over the course of the conflict. Boone was eventually killed and his army split among his lieutenants, who continued to attack Montana settlements, although in smaller numbers. The Rangers had been whittled down to almost nothing and the remaining settlements largely blamed them for failing to protect the towns that had been lost. The Union was effectively dissolved as distrust grew between the remaining communities.

Without roots and without purpose, Davis left Montana, going his own way like the rest of the remaining Rangers. Stories of the legendary prowess of his order lived on and largely spread throughout the West, but the unit had become essentially defunct.

Davis traveled up and down the Dakotas and Nebraska for three years, sometimes alone, sometimes with a variety of companions who wandered in and out of his life. Eventually he took up with a charismatic Methodist pastor named Charles Harris. The two became fast friends and have recently wandered into Colorado for the first time.

RP Examples: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=358682

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564



Name: Charles 'Charlie' Harris
Birthplace: St. Louis, Missouri
Ethnicity: Black
Age: 51
Pic/Description: Here

Occupation: Pastor
Equipment -.44 magnum revolver, decent condition
-12 .44 rounds
-Bowie knife
-small backpack
-Holy Bible
-a full pack of playing cards
-beef jerky and crackers

Immunity: Full

Personality: Charlie is an open and charismatic man who is willing to lend an ear to anyone at any time. Some may find his discourses on God mightily annoying, but Charlie's compassion is usually enough to offset that. He is never eager to engage in violence, and sometimes Charlie may be entirely unwilling to, but when bad people have to die, he doesn't raise too many objections.
Skills: Masterful public speaker, skilled at talking angry people down and getting others to open up about a variety of subjects. Is also a decent cook.
Likes: God, Christianity, peace and quiet, card games
Dislikes: Violence/rape/murder, bandits
Fears: Charlie is always afraid of violence seizing the hearts of men.

Bio: Born in 1992 to a middle-class St. Louis family, Charlie's early life gave absolutely no indication he would ever become a pastor. By age fifteen he was rolling with a local gang and quickly became deeply involved in that city's violence. He was incarcerated in 2013 for having a hand in the murder of a police officer. Decades of his life would have been spent in prison, where it not for the T-13 virus sweeping through the city in 2015, allowing him to break out. He went searching for his family, but quickly learned that those who hadn't died (two brothers as well as his mother died from T-13. His father and sister survived.) had fled the city along with most of the population.

As society fell apart around him, Charlie searched up and down Missouri and parts of Iowa in vain, hoping to find his father and sister among the teeming masses of fleeing, dying people. After two years, he had not a clue as to their whereabouts. In despair, his wanderings took him into South Dakota, where he eventually reached Rapid City, a town in the west of the state that had managed to shut out the anarchy and keep a semblance of law and order. He settled down there, gradually coming to regret his previous life of crime and becoming very religious under the influence of the town's pastor, Pat Kersey. He took an interest in ministry and eventually became an ordained pastor under Kersey's guidance.

Feeling inspired to spread the word of God in post-apocalyptic America, Charlie left Rapid City and traveled up and down the Dakotas and Nebraska, preaching wherever he was allowed and never staying anywhere more than a few weeks. After many years of this he met Davis McKinnon, a former Montana Ranger. The two quickly became friends and traveling companions.

RP Examples: See above

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

[New Grestin]

I'm not really sure where to fit him in, but I was planning on him being part of the resistance against the Empress.

I might also just have him die, agonized and alone, wondering what mistake he made to end up like this. Filled with regret as he bleeds to death in a pool of his own vomit.

Or, ya know, just say he disappeared.

Could have Tommy convince him Jen is awful and they both escaped together?

I don't think he would have needed much convincing after the unspeakable shit she did to Salida.

[Sarejo]

Name: Davis McKinnon
Birthplace: Lewiston, Idaho
Ethnicity: White
Age: 34
Pic/Description: Standing at 5'10," Davis is not a particularly tall man, but has grown stocky and well-muscled over the years through time spent outdoors. Thick, golden blonde hair cascades down to his shoulders, kept reasonably clean and neatly trimmed only through great effort on his part. The blond stubble that usually coats his cheeks has recently grown out into a short beard. Blue eyes and a pale complexion. Ancestry that he claims is a quarter Nez Perce gives him higher than usual cheekbones. Davis wears a worn green flannel shirt over an even more worn Nike t-shirt, along with jeans and recently acquired hiking boots which are in better condition. The pine tree logo of the Oregon Rangers is sewn into his shirt.

Occupation: Ranger (formerly)
Equipment: -A .45 M1911 pistol with two magazines, good condition
-39 .45 rounds
-A scoped M14 in decent condition, though with no ammunition
-A machete, good condition
-worn red hoodie
-A dead iPod.
-strips of beef jerky along with some crackers
-half a bottle of Glenfiddich Scotch whisky

Immunity: Full

Personality: Stolid and usually imperturbable, Davis is not easily shaken and is extremely slow to anger, always choosing his words carefully and engaging everyone in a polite manner. In fact, he hasn't ever been fully enraged, so nobody, himself included, has any idea what that looks like. Usually well-mannered and even-tempered among strangers and acquaintances, his dry sense of humor will eventually reveal itself among trusted friends.
Skills: Decent marksman, extremely physically fit. Years spent with the now-defunct Oregon Rangers have honed his survival skills.
Likes: Davis has a near-obsessive affinity for old-world music, of all types and stripes. He just can't get enough of it, and will search for it wherever he goes. Besides that, he enjoys a good whisky and has a soft spot for settlements that have established law and order that is both efficient and just.
Dislikes: Raiders, tribals, lawlessness, cats. He can't fucking stand cats.
Fears: For all his stolidness, Davis is still deathly afraid of losing those he cares about, and cats practically make him tremble (will explain below).

Bio:

Born in 2009 in Lewiston, Idaho, Davis had an affinity for the outdoors from a very young age. His father worked at a local wood pulp mill and his mother was a nurse. Davis would often spend his weekends hiking in the mountains with his siblings, until the day the plague came to Lewiston. His father took the family up into the mountains as law and order began to collapse around them. Though Joseph McKinnon's log cabin provided temporary refuge, he could not feed his family of six for very long and eventually had to bring them back down to Lewiston, roughly a year after T-13 had ravaged the country. From there the McKinnons made for Boise, but raiders fell upon them on the outskirts of the city. Davis' entire family was killed in the attack, and the seven year-old boy's life was saved only by the intervention of mysterious cloaked men who picked off a raider band three times their number with remarkable ease.

The men who saved his life revealed themselves to be Oregon Rangers, a 1,000-strong order of former national guardsmen and police officers who provided protection for the Oregon Union, a small confederation of towns in the northwestern portion of the state.

Soon after crossing the Snake River, Davis was adopted by Jon and Karen Murray, a couple living in Pendleton, Oregon. Thereafter his life returned to normalcy, though it took Davis awhile to accept the Murrays as parents.

Life in Oregon seemed for a time like it work out for Davis. He acquired his own ranch near Hood River at the age of 23 and settled down there after marrying Kathryn Taylor.

That was before the arrival of the warlord Boone from California. Boone's army devastated much of central Oregon and attempted an attack on the Union, only to be repulsed by the Rangers. Davis took up arms and joined the Rangers in order to repel the attacks. However, Boone's already large army was swelled with reinforcements and he attacked again. This time the Rangers were too few to meet him head on. Over the course of three years the Rangers used guerrilla tactics to wear down the raider army, but not before Boone had put Pendleton, La Grande and Hood River to the torch. Davis lost his adoptive parents and his wife over the course of the conflict. Boone was eventually killed and his army split among his lieutenants, who continued to attack Oregon settlements, although in smaller numbers. The Rangers had been whittled down to almost nothing and the remaining settlements largely blamed them for failing to protect the towns that had been lost. The Union was effectively dissolved as distrust grew between the remaining communities.

Without roots and without purpose, Davis left Oregon, going his own way like the rest of the remaining Rangers. Stories of the legendary prowess of his order lived on and largely spread throughout the West, but the unit had become essentially defunct.

Davis traveled up and down Nevada and Utah for three years, sometimes alone, sometimes with a variety of companions who wandered in and out of his life. Eventually he took up with a charismatic Methodist pastor named Charles Harris. The two became fast friends and have recently wandered into Colorado for the first time.

RP Examples: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=358682

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564



Name: Charles 'Charlie' Harris
Birthplace: Oakland, California
Ethnicity: Black
Age: 51
Pic/Description: Here

Occupation: Pastor
Equipment -.44 magnum revolver, decent condition
-12 .44 rounds
-Bowie knife
-small backpack
-Holy Bible
-a full pack of playing cards
-beef jerky and crackers

Immunity: Full

Personality: Charlie is an open and charismatic man who is willing to lend an ear to anyone at any time. Some may find his discourses on God mightily annoying, but Charlie's compassion is usually enough to offset that. He is never eager to engage in violence, and sometimes Charlie may be entirely unwilling to, but when bad people have to die, he doesn't raise too many objections.
Skills: Masterful public speaker, skilled at talking angry people down and getting others to open up about a variety of subjects. Is also a decent cook.
Likes: God, Christianity, peace and quiet, card games
Dislikes: Violence/rape/murder, bandits
Fears: Charlie is always afraid of violence seizing the hearts of men.

Bio: Born in 1992 to a middle-class Oakland family, Charlie's early life gave absolutely no indication he would ever become a pastor. By age fifteen he was rolling with a local gang and quickly became deeply involved in that city's violence. He was incarcerated in 2013 for having a hand in the murder of a police officer. Decades of his life would have been spent in prison, where it not for the T-13 virus sweeping through the Bay Area in 2015, allowing him to break out. He went searching for his family, but quickly learned that those who hadn't died (two brothers as well as his mother died from T-13. His father and sister survived.) had fled the city along with most of the population.

As society fell apart around him, Charlie searched up and down Northern California in vain, hoping to find his father and sister among the teeming masses of fleeing, dying people. After two years, he had not a clue as to their whereabouts. In despair, his wanderings took him into Nevada, where he eventually reached Elko, a town in the north of the state that had managed to shut out the anarchy and keep a semblance of law and order. He settled down there, gradually coming to regret his previous life of crime and becoming very religious under the influence of the town's pastor, Pat Kersey. He took an interest in ministry and eventually became an ordained pastor under Kersey's guidance.

Feeling inspired to spread the word of God in post-apocalyptic America, Charlie left Elko and traveled up and down much of the west, preaching wherever he was allowed and never staying anywhere more than a few weeks. After many years of this he met Davis McKinnon, a former Oregon Ranger. The two quickly became friends and traveling companions.

RP Examples: See above

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Sorry dude... There's already well-established lore for Northern California, Oregon, Washington, and British Colombia...

[New Grestin]

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

[Deramen]

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

Canada Time!

[Sarejo]

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

I realized I'm pretty much our resident asshole... Always telling people in an assholish way that such and such place already has established lore.

[New Grestin]

To elaborate to those new to the RP, the lore is established for most regions of the United States.

The West Coast is, essentially, Sarejo

Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma are on me.

PBP controls Louisiana

Wallenburger is (was) Boston

Etc. Etc.

The point is thus: If you're creating a faction for your character's background, please get it approved first and ensure it's lore friendly. No tacticool butts or mega-corporations.

This isn't a ding against anyone, it's just a general rule.

Additionally, factions are ONLY to be created by the OP or Co-Ops, or must be approved if they have any influence on the story.

In short, just ask. Honestly. We'll probably say yes if you aren't a dick about it.

[Mesrane]

DO NOT REMOVE: 4242564

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

Will do, thanks; it certainly doesn't need to be in Oregon.

It would help, a lot, if the lore concerning California could be added to the OP.

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

I realized I'm pretty much our resident asshole... Always telling people in an assholish way that such and such place already has established lore.

Hey don't worry about it. I realize this is basically a second iteration of a previous RP. I'm just not clear on California's lore.

To elaborate to those new to the RP, the lore is established for most regions of the United States.

The West Coast is, essentially, Sarejo

Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma are on me.

PBP controls Louisiana

Wallenburger is (was) Boston

Etc. Etc.

The point is thus: If you're creating a faction for your character's background, please get it approved first and ensure it's lore friendly. No tacticool butts or mega-corporations.

This isn't a ding against anyone, it's just a general rule.

Additionally, factions are ONLY to be created by the OP or Co-Ops, or must be approved if they have any influence on the story.

In short, just ask. Honestly. We'll probably say yes if you aren't a dick about it.

Well the Rangers/Union weren't going to be active in the present story. Both would be five or six years defunct or dissolved by 2043. I could move both to Montana or perhaps the Dakotas if that fits better.

[Sarejo]

To elaborate to those new to the RP, the lore is established for most regions of the United States.

The West Coast is, essentially, Sarejo

Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma are on me.

PBP controls Louisiana

Wallenburger is (was) Boston

Etc. Etc.

The point is thus: If you're creating a faction for your character's background, please get it approved first and ensure it's lore friendly. No tacticool butts or mega-corporations.

This isn't a ding against anyone, it's just a general rule.

Additionally, factions are ONLY to be created by the OP or Co-Ops, or must be approved if they have any influence on the story.

In short, just ask. Honestly. We'll probably say yes if you aren't a dick about it.

Thought Wally was Boston and Louisiana and PBP had Michigan and Wisconsin? Nevertheless thanks dude.

[New Grestin]

Well the Rangers/Union weren't going to be active in the present story. Both would be five or six years defunct or dissolved by 2043.

I'm cool with it, frankly. The app's already approved assuming Bae doesn't decide to revoke it or something weird like that.

I'd move it to, like Vermont or some shit. Maybe Montana. Somewhere nobody's really using, lore-wise at least.

[Sarejo]

Tentatively approved, though the part about the Oregon Ranger dudes might need to be moved to a separate state.

Most of the lore for the West Coast is already established.

Otherwise, it looks good.

Will do, thanks; it certainly doesn't need to be in Oregon.

It would help, a lot, if the lore concerning California could be added to the OP.

I realized I'm pretty much our resident asshole... Always telling people in an assholish way that such and such place already has established lore.

Hey don't worry about it. I realize this is basically a second iteration of a previous RP. I'm just not clear on California's lore.

To elaborate to those new to the RP, the lore is established for most regions of the United States.

The West Coast is, essentially, Sarejo

Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Oklahoma are on me.

PBP controls Louisiana

Wallenburger is (was) Boston

Etc. Etc.

The point is thus: If you're creating a faction for your character's background, please get it approved first and ensure it's lore friendly. No tacticool butts or mega-corporations.

This isn't a ding against anyone, it's just a general rule.

Additionally, factions are ONLY to be created by the OP or Co-Ops, or must be approved if they have any influence on the story.

In short, just ask. Honestly. We'll probably say yes if you aren't a dick about it.

Well the Rangers/Union weren't going to be active in the present story. Both would be five or six years defunct or dissolved by 2043. I could move both to Montana or perhaps the Dakotas if that fits better.

Yeah sorry I hit a massive chunk of land with my lore stick xD Basically my lore is everything from Vancouver, BC to about I think Modesto, CA.

[Sarejo]

Well the Rangers/Union weren't going to be active in the present story. Both would be five or six years defunct or dissolved by 2043.

I'm cool with it, frankly. The app's already approved assuming Bae doesn't decide to revoke it or something weird like that.

I'd move it to, like Vermont or some shit. Maybe Montana. Somewhere nobody's really using, lore-wise at least.

Maine Rangers motherfuckas. Somehow make one of the most boring states into a bunch of badasses.

[New Grestin]

I'm cool with it, frankly. The app's already approved assuming Bae doesn't decide to revoke it or something weird like that.

I'd move it to, like Vermont or some shit. Maybe Montana. Somewhere nobody's really using, lore-wise at least.

Maine Rangers motherfuckas. Somehow make one of the most boring states into a bunch of badasses.

I turned Albuquerque into the Mongol Empire, Denver into a totalitarian state ruled by a disturbed matriarch, and made little Texas' dreams of autonomy come true.

I win.

[Mesrane]

Alright well thanks for the heads up guys. I'll make the appropriate edits and re-post the apps shortly.

[Seventh Oblivion]

Name: Mason Alexander
Birthplace: Colorado
Ethnicity: White
Age: 45
Pic/Description:

Occupation: Scavenger + Protector
Equipment
- Ruger No. 1 Varminter K1-V-BBZ
- Glock 17 (2)
- Pinewood Fleece Jacket
- Beige Military Overcoat
- Hunting Boots
- Leather Gloves
- Switchblade (holster on trouser strap)
- Lightweight Rucksack

Immunity: TD-13

Personality: Mason Alexander is a cold and ruthless man who feeds of the struggle of others, he has little sympathy for those that work with him and often lies to get his way. Although he can be incredibly loyal and friendly to those he trusts the most, it is rare that anyone will gain enough respect for him to treat them with the same response. He has never got his fingers bloody, mainly because of the thick leather gloves he wears almost all the time. He is an incredibly skilled marksman and has had experience with military weaponry. He often does not care for those that fall behind, or for those that are slowing him down. His childhood is the cause of these traits.

Skills: Mason is an outstanding marksman, and is very familiar with the areas in Colorado, having spent his entire life there. He is an experienced climber and swimmer, and has spent years of his life outside, so knows a lot about nature and the animals in Colorado. He has impressive orienteering and leadership skills, he can read almost any map and can identify natural features and use them to his advantage. Mason has almost perfect vision, about 2 times greater than the average human.

Likes: Mason likes loyalty, one of the driving points to his personality is his stone cold loyalty to his allies. He would never leave the people he has the most trust in, and will do anything to protect those who have loyalty to him and what he does. He also likes bravery, and once again, this is one of his driving personal preferences. The people that work with him know him by this motto: "Bravery is like life, if you let if slip on by, your death will be worse than anything else. Dying without bravery is like dying without a heart, or a brain."

Dislikes: Mason has a burning hate for heat. He cannot handle being near anything that makes him feel flustered or crowded, living out in the wilderness for most of his life has created a personal liking for his own space. He hates it when people invade his space, and it is better for them if they don't come near him unless he calls for it. He also dislikes failure, anyone who fails him in any way will probably be killed, depending on how bad they have let him down.

Fears: Mason truly has just a select few fears. The ocean being his major pitfall. Not particularly water, just the expanses of ocean that are inescapable, and are seemingly infinitely wide and infinitely deep. For some crazy reason, he has always had a phobia of clowns. It has got to the point where anything that looks remotely like a clown can set off a panic attack. Randomly. He also has Somniphobia, a phobia where he fears to sleep. If he gets tired, he will doze off but wake up really scared anyway.

Bio: Mason Alexander was born into a very large family of nine in Colorado near Manitou Springs. His father and mother would take him hunting and fishing during his teenage years. He was slightly gifted when it came to hunting, but not so lucky when it came to fishing. During his teenage years, he killed dozens of animals a month and would never miss a shot. He and his father would never miss a day out in the woods. They would climb hillsides for hours until they reached the trees, and make sure they knew their way back home before returning.

He was 18 when the virus hit. At the time, he was the second oldest in the family. He had an older sister, three younger brothers and two younger sisters. Then his parents summed it up to nine members in the family. At the start of the virus, the family boarded their windows and locked all of the doors, but it wasn't long before the infected found their location. The overwhelming amount of people made it incredibly difficult for him and his siblings to cope. His two younger sisters were 6 and 7, they were killed first as three infected climbed through a broken window upstairs and attacked them both. Once they became infected, nobody had the courage to shoot them, so Mason stepped up and will never forget the moment he shot both of his sisters.

The struggle became stronger as more infected were drawn to the ensuing chaos inside their house. Mason, one by one, had to kill each of his younger brothers, all between the ages of 9-15. Mason was mentally scarred, and would cry out for hours afterwards, wondering why he had done it. As each of his family members became infected, nobody else could do it but him. So, in their final hours together, when it was just him, his sister and his parents, they all couldn't manage anymore. All food was non-existent, hope was not there, the desperation had vanished in their eyes. Their opponents became tougher, as they were covered in the blood of those who they used to know in the area. Because of the overwhelming amount of infected surrounding the house, they could not evacuate for three months after.

He broke down completely when two infected killed his sister and his mother in the same instance. The outbreak was tearing him apart, piece by piece, as he had to kill his own sister and mother. He had had enough of the constant death. Now there was just him and his father, they decided to run for it, out through the narrow back window and up the hills behind the house. Two days into the escape, his father was brutally mauled by a Boar as he tried to climb a narrow wall of rocks up a river bank. Mason was alone with a dead boar near his feet. He cried and cried, wanting all of it to end. But he knew that his family wouldn't be proud if he put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger, so he fought with all he had.

Now. 27 years later, he still lives. Since the day of his separation with his father, he has been trying to ally with other survivors, trying to live until a natural death greets him, and to avenge his family. His mother, his father and his siblings all probably want him to end this terrible war against the mutated undead, even though the chances are unfathomably slim, nothing is impossible.

RP Examples:

From the Academy of Villains:

Austin looked around. He tried to find some of the inmates, as he wasn't familiar with the prison inside his head. He walked a bit further down the corridor, noticing a small cell. Inside the cell, a man hunched up into a ball near the corner. He looked like he had been in the prison for years.

"Hey dude." he whispered. The man looked up, confused.

"Hey, come over here." said Austin. The man got to his feet and rubbed his eyes, making sure he could see straight.

"How did y.."

"That doesn't matter right now." Austin intercepted, just wanting the answer to one simple question.

"Which way to the courtyard?" he whispered. Austin new he'd be able to jump the fence outside, if there was one.

"Okay, but what can I get from this?" the prisoner asked.

"I'll help you escape if you tell me, I promise." lied Austin. The prisoner was thinking to himself, deciding whether he could trust this guy. Austin put on his most convincing voice and looked sincerely at the prisoner.

"Okay. Fine." The man held out his hand through the cell bars and they shook on it.

"Go right, straight down the corridor and take the third left. Then you'll see a big black door, pretty heavy, but movable. That leads out into the courtyard. I see the guards open and close it every day coming in from lunch break."

Austin had got his information.

"Thanks for the help." he said, simply turning and running in the directions he had given.

The prisoner was right, but no doubt there would be guards patrolling the area. He reached for the door handle and stumbled backwards pulling on it. He could hear the sound of running footsteps coming in hot from behind. Two guards ran around the corner, looking in his direction.

"Stop right there!" shouted one of the guards. The other said something into his radio as they fumbled for their tasers. Using the valuable seconds they had given him, he lunged forward into the first guard, delivering a hard knee to the chest. The guard fell backwards and began to choke. Austin clambered onto the second guard and quickly snapped his neck from behind. His body slumped to the floor. The second guard had pulled his taser from his utility belt and was ready to fire. Austin jumped as high as he could just as quick as the guard fired the weapon. Austin, in the midst of his adrenaline fueled rampage, stomped the guards head into the tiled concrete floor of the prison. He heard a crack as his foot connected with his chin. His jaw shattered into pieces as blood covered Austin's feet.

All was silent, for a brief second. The alarm split his ear drums just a second after. Austin ripped at the door handle as he panicked. It was locked. He clambered for the guards bodies and found a pair of keys. Punching them into the keyhole as fast as he could, he turned the key as the door opened heavily. The air outside took his breath away, it was as cold as the summit of Mount Everest. He gasped in shock and began to run forward, inspecting his surrounding with caution. Up ahead, was the courtyard, quiet a large expanse of more concrete, surrounded in what looked like a 3 meter barbwire fence. He could hear more footsteps up ahead, but kept running, sprinting. He lunged forward as two more guards rounded into his pathway. Something told him he would fail right there, but once again, the adrenaline kicked in even harder. He pounced onto one of the guards chest and kicked him in the face, sending him flying backwards, knocked out cold. Using the guard as a spring board, he flung himself into the air, sending another kick directly into the next guards head, another cold hard knockout.

Austin could not stop running, it felt so real. Even though he knew it was all a simulation, the pain was just as real as he would have ever imagined. In a good 3 seconds, he had ran the distance of the courtyard and was close to the fence. In a flash, he felt the searing pain of a bullet pierce his arm. But he wouldn't be needing it for this next obstacle. He leaped as high as his legs would allow, getting almost 5 meters in the air. He cleared the fence and landed onto a cushion like patch of grass. The whipping sound of bullets hit the floor around him as he scrambled for freedom. Finally. He could see a group of police men approaching the fence behind him, still firing bullets. He ran in an irregular zigzag, only hoping to reach the final part of the stretch. The sound of the bullets got quieter and quieter as he reached a distance of about 800m. That was it.

He had escaped. He sprinted into the mist, leaving the prison behind.

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[New Grestin]

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Approved