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Neutral
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This is a 1x1 between myself (Shadow Hearts) and FrostyK. Please do not post if you are not either of us but please read along if you are interested. |
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Neutral
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Name: Quinton "Trigger" Reminton Age: 23 Appearance: Quinton is 6' and has a lean build. His time in the apocalypse has leaned his body and left only muscle, along with a scar underneath his right eye and one on the back of his right arm by the elbow. He wears makeshit armor out of whatever metal he can work into his outfit, wears a modified motorcycle helmet and a black bandana covering his mouth. With grey eyes and dirty blond hair, anything that was resembled as dashing or handsome has been worn away by the apocalypse. Backstory: Trigger grew up in the sticks, finding an interest in maintaning the rifles that his father, a seasoned hunter, owned. He hoped that his future career would be owning a range... eventually he enlisted in the military and worked the armory and repaired small arms of all varities. When the zombie apocalypse broke out, he went with the rest of the armed forces within the States and tried to set up settlements, using the TRTL-1 tank that the base he was stationed at as a means of moving great quantities of supplies and materials. Now he roams the land, the last member of his unit and calling the TRTL tank his home. Personality: Trigger's emotions have been harded by his training in the military, but his mind is sharper than ever. He keeps busy by regular matinence of the walking tank and reading books whenever he has a spare moment. He does have a fun side to him, but it can be rather hard to reveal. When he is in the mood for fun, he can be quite jovial and quick to have a good time with others. |
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Neutral
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Quinton stared outside a window of his walking tank, the TRTL-1, as it roamed through the forest. He wasn't too sure where he was at, but thanks to a map that he had, he knew he was heading towards Washington, DC. He wasn't sure what he was planning on getting while he was there beyond the usual supplies, since the former capital was geting off its feet after being destroyed thanks to the Third Uprising, or the true start of the zombie apocalypse four long years ago. In late January 2030 the zombies rose up from the graveyard, with every able cadaver tearing from the ground to try to eat flesh, but this wasn't meant to be, at least for the first wave. Despite the out of nowhere appearance of the zombies, humanity was able to come together quickly and was able to wipe out the zombies in weeks. A scare, for sure, but nothing that would warrant the end of the world. In mid April the zombies came back, this time with a few special zombies in the midst of the horde, ratcheting the danger up considerably, but once again humanity was once again able to maintain their hold over the planet, although it came at the price of millions of lives lost, nearly rivaling the damage dealt from World War 2 in some sense. Fest forward to early September and the third wave had arrived, this time there were more special zombies than before, and on top of that there were a few zombies that empowered their fellow undead by simply being there. Despite the previous knowledge of the last two waves along with research into the matter, mankind woulnd't be able to survive. Society collapsed and the apocalypse had begun, leaving the world locked in time, with little chance of starting it up once again as the shadows of the past remain undisturbed by the surviving humans, afraid of coming near and attracting the undead that surveil the land today and unwittingly patrol those frozen artifacts. When it all hit the fan, Trigger was with his unit, crewing the TRTL-1 tank that he now lives in, going from place to place to offer whatever was needed on behalf of the US government, or at least what was left of it anyway. But soon enough the free supplies ran out and the crew worked on behalf of the remaining force of the military to caravan goods from A to B, which Trigger was fine with, however the apocalypse would take away his brothers in arms; one here, another there, until all that was left was him, piloting the tank and continuing the memory of the unit as he lived. Now? Trigger wanted to find a way to end all of this and destroy every flesh eater out there, but he didn't have the slightest idea on how to do so, so he merely continued on, floating in a mental limbo that needed to be solved. |
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Lightbringer
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Cain (yes Cain) Syrodian
Age:
21
Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Cain has long dark brown hair that is naturally wavy and reaches to her lower back. It is usually braided to make it easier to manage and battle with. Scars riddle her tanned skin from fights with a horrible burn scar across her stomach to her right side and back. She is 5'8" tall with a more muscular than feminine frame. Her eyes are a cold steel grey that show no feeling. She always has blades on her and is wearing jeans, tennis shoes, t-shirt, and a belt to hold other blades or weapons.
WIP-She definitely needs a little bit more here.
Personality:
Cain was once very open and friendly but as time progressed, her friendliness faded away in order to protect her family and friends. Cain thinks on her feet and can sometimes be bull headed when it comes to taking orders. Get on Cain's good side and she will go out of her way to make sure you are safe or have maybe something extra.
Weaknesses: Her stubbornness and her heart. She is also not as physically strong on her right side due to the burn damage that has been done. There is also a temper just below the surface that threatens to come up whenever someone doesn't take her seriously or tries to baby her. |
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Neutral
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Trigger stared at the road as he righted the walking tank to move along the road as he continued moving through the forest. Sure the TRTL wasn't incredibly fast, but the protection that it offered was second to none and couldn't be sanely passed up. He took one last look through a window, noticing a gas station down the road, before turning his head and tending to his weaponry. Trigger carried an M4 Carbine with a silenced FiveSeven as his sidearm; they haven't failed him since they were given to him once he entered the field, so there was no reason to replace them, but he did have a few sets of guns just in case something broke. After double checking everything and making sure they were in working order, Quinton adjusting the direction of the tank and put in a command to stop the tank at the gas station, which he was going to search for loot before getting back on the road to D.C. |
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Lightbringer
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Cain couldn't remember a day when she wasn't either hiding out or trying to cram as many supplies as she could within her large packing backpack. Normally she would have moved on from the gast station a lot sooner than she had, but she had found more supplies at this one store than she had in a couple of weeks. "Maybe this will last me until I can get to another town." She mumbled as she stashed another can of soup into her bag. She stopped when the sound of a large vehicle got closer, Cain carefully pulled out her pistol from the holster on her hip and lowered her body listening closely to when the doors would open. Maybe it was a friendly but there was also the chance that it couldn't be. Cain wasn't taking the chance again that they are a friendly and then have all of her items stolen because her trust had been misguided. |
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Neutral
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The tank stopped in front of the station, hissing as it lowered its frame to make the descent from the tank easier, signaling for Trigger to get everything on and ready to go. Well I'll just hit this gas station on the way to D.C. and make sure that I have stuff to trade with vendors. He checked the clips on his Five Seven and his M4 before stepping out of the tank and adjusting his helmet and armor. He didn't really do anything special in making his look intimidating save for a simple skull bandana that he wore over his mouth since he wasn't wearing a full helmet. After hopping off the tank, he kept his rifle at the ready as he slowly opened the door to the inside, listening carefully for any noise from inside. After hearing nothing, he moved to a closet door, made sure that there wasn't anything about it that was off-putting, before kicking the door open and sweeping inside, taking some of the goods inside. But as he moved, he was completely unaware that there was someone else inside of the gas station with him. |
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Summer 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
