- Nature

- Astronomy

- Psychology

- Running

- Respectful debate

- Fighting

- Disrespect

- Fire

- People who act without thinking

Name:
Corbin Aramis

Nicknames:
Corb
The Devil

Age:
26

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Bisexual Demiromantic

Appearance:
Corbin stands at five foot ten with a rather muscular and lean build. His build is that of scrawny muscle, only made up of roughly one hundred and thirty pounds. Most muscle can be found in his arms, and he has a flat stomach and chest, though is slightly wide. To put simply, Corbin is built like a cereal box - he doesn't have a lot of volume. His skin tone is rather fair with scattered moles and freckles, mainly found on his shoulders and arms. He has few scars, though three major ones are across his face.

Corbin's face is a diamond shape with a widow-peak hairline, giving it a slight diamond-like shape. He has a defined jawline and slightly defined high cheek-bones, which are covered in freckles and small natural beauty marks. His nose is rather narrow and chiseled looking with a slight bump in the middle, pointing slightly downwards at the end with narrow nostrils. His eyes are a dark brown and are round, and his eyebrows are slightly high on his face and are full on the narrow side with a slight angle at the end. His lips are full, his bottom lip slightly purtruding further from his face compared to the top one.

Now, one of his most defining features are the three scars on his face. Corbin got these from an intense fight between him and an outsider to his former group, which resulted in plenty of other scars, though these specific three were the ones that scarred him the most (pun intended). The longest one starts from the top right of his forehead, trailing all the way down to his left side of his face and stopping slightly on his neck. The second on crosses on top of the first, starting slightly to the left, trailing down his nose, and stopping in the middle of his right cheek. The third, and the smallest, is across as left cheek from the corner of his lip and across, stopping below his unattatched earlobe.

Corbin's hair is genuinely a mop of dark brown hair that sits on the top of his head. It curls out slightly past his ears. Corbin doesn't do much with it considering he's never been one to even like his appearance. He could generally care less what it looks like, to be honest. Corbin's hair may appear a bit lighter in the summer, but generally, it's a dark brown that almost appears black in some lighting that just sits comfortably on his head.

Corbin's attire consists of flannels with a tank-top underneath, straight-legged jeans, and canvas sneakers. At night, he'll probably slip into sweatpants or shorts even, and if need be, he'll wear a sweatshirt. He does not wear any jewelry or accessories. When he was younger though, his ears were pierced. Now he doesn't have much interest in it. Besides, his holes are closed.

Personality:
Ruthless. Cold. Brutal. Those are just a few words to describe Corbin. He has set goals, and once he has one, he will strive for it, not matter what it takes. He is forced by his adrenaline that he is commonly hungry for, and he does not let anything or anyone get in his way. If someone does, that is on them, and they will more than likely regret it. His ambitions are ambitious and his standards are quite high - he will achieve what he wants with precisions and no issues what so ever.

Corbin is obsessive. Once he has his eye on something he wants, that is what he will get. He will research every possible way to get to it and achieve whatever it is he wants within a moment's notice. That being said, it's best not to confront him about this trait - although a negative one, it's one of his most defining traits and is what makes him, suprisingly, reliable. Corbin can sometimes be helpful, but normally, it's for his own good as he is rather selfish and focuses on what he needs and wants, not others. He still has yet to discover wether or not that aspect can be changed.

Corbin has little to no respect for anyone who doesn't respect him. He's an eye for an eye sort of guy. Respect him? He'll respect you. Harm him? He'll harm you. However, just because you might like Corbin, that doesn't mean he will like you. He'll tolerate you - at best - and it takes a while before you can consider Corbin a friend. He constantly speaks in sarcasm and is the definition of Captain Obvious. He doesn't take many things seriously, and is one to make dark humor jokes at the wrong time. However, he can be serious, especially when he's trying to actually do something.

It isn't often that Corbin is genuine. Although still a rigid asshole, he will find a way to phrase things that seem more sincere. This might be manipulative, but he thinks it's no different than anyone else, so he just rolls with it. Speaking of which, Corbin does just go with the flow. He can follow any plan, fit into any role, and define the definition of manipulative. Some say that he has personalities for specific people, though that's just because he's at different stages with everyone.

Corbin is highly intelligent. Always thinking of his next move, calculating his pathway towards something - it's all there. His mind is moving at a thousand miles per hour, and it is the exact reason why you should never underestimate him. He will always come out on top, no matter what you think. He's apathetic of what others think of him, so if you have a shitty opinion on him, so be it. He could honestly care less.

Likes:
+Philosophical conversations

+He prefers to work alone
+Rainy days
+To most's surprise - reading
+Fire

Dislikes:
-Anyone who gets in his way
-He despises heights
-He also hates spiders with a passion
-Anyone who thinks they can change his mind

Fears:
-Spiders
-Heights

-The ocean
-Ending up alone

More Emotional/Logical:
Definitely more logical. Corbin does not let his emotions, or other's emotions, define his opinion on something or what he should do next.

Allergies:
Unknown

Physical Disabilities:
He is slightly blind in his left eye from an accident as a young boy.

Mental Illnessses:
PTSD, depression, anger issues

Kostas sat silently at the end of the long wooden table, dark eyes silently taking in everything that was going on. His father was arguing with Avery, one of his advisors, over how to solve the current problem of raiders.

"You can't be serious, we can't stay here! We risk everyone's lives by doing so!" Avery protested, hands clenched on the table. "Our army is small and we've already seen that they have weapons."

The argument was logical, the society that Kostas's father had built up over the years was small, just over three thousand people in all, five hundred of those people being children ages seventeen and under, and one hundred being older people sixty and up. The rag-tag army that Vixen, the head of the armory and exploration unit, had gathered up was made up of a meager three hundred and ninety-eight men and women over the age of seventeen that had volunteered. The only other protection? A small but sturdy wall made to keep wildlife out.

"We built this place! It took ten years, Avery! Ten years, we can't just leave all of that work behind!" The leader stated, eyes full of annoyance. "We survived, we endured, we can't just leave now!"

This was also true, ever since the disaster ten years ago, Kostas's dad, the leader of this small society, had been working constantly to make a safe environment for people who needed it.

"We risk everyone by staying! We don't know these people, we don't know their numbers! They've already proved dangerous, they've burned one house down so far, and stolen many supplies, we need to hide! Take our things and hide!"

"Running isn't an option."

"Oh my lord, you two!" Yelena, Kostas's younger sister exclaimed, slamming the knife that she'd previously been using to clean her nails onto the table. She was twenty-three and a natural beauty, she shared her father and Kostas's black hair, cut just above her shoulders and hanging straight down, her skin was light brown, and her eyes were the same as her mother's, a bright, shocking blue. She wore black leggings, a black turtleneck, and a black leather jacket along with black army boots. She was Vixen's second in command. "Can we stop arguing for two seconds? I mean, really, we're on the same side!"

Vixen, who had been leaning back in his chair, smirked. "There she goes."

"Well, this argument just got more interesting." Lizzy, head of mapping and hunting, stated. Yelena was well known for her hot head and willingness to argue with anyone, including her father.

"Fine then, Ana, what do you suggest?" Kostas's father sighed, obviously bracing himself for an explosion of rage from his youngest.

"I say we listen to Kos." She stated, leaning back again and picking up her knife, shooting Kostas a grin. "No one's asked his opinion yet which seems stupid considering he's the mastermind."

The room fell quiet and all eyes fell on the young man at the corner of the table.

"She's talking since for once," Lizzy muttered, nodding to Kos. "You have the floor, young prince."

Kostas took a deep breath, thinking for a long moment. "I think we should stay." He said, his voice quiet and thoughtful. Avery opened his mouth to protest, but Kostas held up a hand to stop him. "But we shouldn't fight yet either."

"What else are we supposed to do?!" Avery asked, throwing up his arms. "Sit like waiting ducks and get stalked?!"

"Observe," Kos answered calmly. "Avery is right, we know nothing about these people yet, we need to know more about the enemy before deciding how, or if, we should handle them."

"And how do we get information from inside?" Lizzy questioned, critical, but not disrespectful.

"We get someone inside. One person can gather information and report back. We can decide what to do from there."

"Well, who's going then?" Vixen asked after a moment of silence. No one was protesting.

"That's easy, me," Yelena said, spinning the knife between her fingers. "I'm a skilled warrior, good with any kind of weapon and sneaky. I'm the best option."

"It's risky..." Lizzy stated, looking at her friend worriedly.

"I'm risky." Yelena answered, winking. "Come on, I'll be fine."

"One week." Kostas's father said softly, all eyes turned to him.

"Pardon?" Avery questioned.

"One week, Yelena. Gather information over one week and report back. Stay safe and don't get caught."

"Easy," Yelena said, grinning. "This should be fun."

Kostas nodded silently and stood, slipping out of the meeting room and climbing the stairs up to his room. The main building where the Osbornes lived and held 'council meetings' was an old structure made up mostly of bricks and stones, it was large, but not nearly a mansion. Kos had claimed the room in the tallest part of the building with a window overlooking the horizon beyond the wall.

As soon as he reached his destination, he started organizing, moving things around, replacing them, shifting them from one place, then putting them back again. They didn't need to be moved at all, no one had ever found Kostas's room to be a mess, but he couldn't help it. His OCD-driven mind always found something wrong with his surroundings. He had to fix it, make it better, make it perfect.

Nothing was ever right.

"Shh, sh," Corbin cooed to the crying man. "You'll get your chance to speak." Corbin huffed, moving over to the other man. Both were tied, hands behind their backs, to chairs. Corbin pulled another chair up between the two, facing the second man. "Tell me where the fucking settlement is," Corbin demanded, his eyes meeting the weeping man's. He sighed heavily, annoyed with the amount of sobbing he was hearing.

Corbin grabbed his knife from his belt, striking it down into the man's knee. He screamed in pain. "Tell me!" Corbin yelled. The man winced and cried, screaming and yelling in pain. "Motherfucker," Corbin mumbled under his breath. "Both of you," he inhaled sharply, pulling the knife out of the man's knee, "are really starting to piss me off. One, nobody can actually hear you. Two, everyone could hear you would gladly want to kill you, so please, be my guest to tell me where it is," Corbin stated. His eyes went between the two men.

"S-south... It's south of here," the none-injured man said, swallowing.

"Winner-winner chicken dinner," Corbin smirked, looking at him. "Thank you. Buddy-boy over there was taking too long," Corbin said, rolling his eyes with the thought. "And you both cry a lot, but I guess you get brownie points cause you're honest," Corbin gave the most fake of fake smiles.

"But I don't appreciate lying," Corbin stated with a mocking sympathetic tone. He sighed, standing from the chair and looking at his knife, holding it in front of his face and then back down at the man. He pulled a map out of his pocket, noted with plenty of valuable places for supplies. Although Corbin's group was already aware of the location of the settlement and had indeed already done some damage, Corbin was definitely just looking for an excuse.

Corbing pointed his knife towards the man he had stabbed in the leg. "You," he started, "is he lying?" Corbin questioned, pointing his knife to the other man as he asked the stabbed man.

"No! N-n-no I promise! He told you what you wanted!" He exclaimed. Fear was in the man's eyes.

Corbin shrugged.

"Not good enough," he hummed, making his way behind the man he had stabbed. With a strong arm, Corbin wrapped it around the man's neck and would constrict it around his neck. The man squirmed in the chair, grasping for air.

"Stop! Stop." The other man yelled. Corbin let go, the man swallowing air as much as he could like he was a stray dog.

"I promise you, it's actually north of here. Past that huge mansion, yeah? I bet you've seen it, otherwise you guys wouldn't be so close to it." The man stated. He seemed more genuine than last time.

"Corbin!"

Corbin's head turned towards his leader, Samuel, barging in. "What is this?" He asked.

"Intel-"

"Get rid of it. We got a meeting," he said. Corbin nodded, watching Samuel close the door again.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you both I suppose. You know, I'm genuinely sorry it had to end this way. I bet we could've had a fun time," Corbin smirked, finishing off both with a quick slit of the throat. They would choke and gurgle on their own blood before their limp bodies would look more lifeless than before. Luckily for Corbin, he wouldn't have to look at their pathetic fearful faces.

Corbin exited the smaller building, making his way slightly uphill to reach where all the tents were. He entered the biggest one - Samuel's - and saw two other men inside. It was Samuel to Corbin's left and then Ryan and Jack to his right. All four men stood in a semi-circle.

"Tomorrow night," Samuel started, "we go after the leader, yeah?" He added.

All men nodded. "What's the plan, though?" Ryan asked.

"One of us will go in to start some fires - a distraction. Two of you will be on the lookout while that goes on. Preferably we get some buildings with no people, but hey, the more the merrier I suppose," Samuel began. He looked towards Corbin. "Corbin, you will be the one to do it. Make sure that whoever starts the fires knows that we'll be needing to have one in the south corner and the north corner. It'll split most of them up," Samuel finished. "Any questions?"

"No."

"Then prepare yourselves for a fucking war."

Corbin smirked to himself, making his way to his own tent. Sitting on the floor was a bunch of supplies - ammo, knives, some food. Anything that he could use, basically. Hell, even fishing wire that nobody was ever going to use. Corbin prayed in the back of his mind that they could take over this place, even if it meant striking more fear and dropping more bodies. But you do what you got to do right?

"Hey, uh, Kos?"

Kostas looked up from where he was re-organizing his books (Shifting them from size order to ABC order), to find his little sister in the doorway. "Oh, hello Yelena."

Yelena smiled slightly, looking a little worried. "You doin' okay, big brother?"

"Just organizing."

"Your room is perfect, as always, Kos. You don't need to organize."

"It's messed up."

Yelena sighed and walked over to Kostas, gently taking the books from his hands and laying them on the shelf. Kos pursed his lips in annoyance and looked up at his sister.

"What's going on, Kostas. You do this when you're nervous."

"You're sneaking into an enemy camp, Yelena! Of course, I'm nervous! What if something happens to you? It'll be my fault!"

His sister rolled her eyes. "I just don't get how someone so smart can say something so fucking dumb." She stated, crossing her arms over her chest. She had already packed a bag, which was slung over her shoulder, and she had a knife on her belt. Kostas knew she probably had some more in her boots and she probably had a fucking grenade or something in her cargo pant pockets. "If I die it's my fault, not yours, and that's a big if. I'm strong, big brother, you know this. I'll be fine."

"What if you're not, Yelena? You're going into an unknown enemy camp with who knows how many enemies, you're fast and quiet, but even so, it's probable that you will be found out. Even with your skill, you're dangerously outnumbered. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe running would be better."

Yelena leaned casually against the bookshelf and watched her brother with a critical, tired face. He often ranted to her, because he trusted her. Yelena was one of the few people Kostas was open around because she understood him. Only her and his friend Karma. They were the only two he showed his true colors to. "You done yet?" The girl asked, reaching over and lightly flicking her brother's head. "You think too much, Kos. Just take deep breaths, yeah? I'll be fine, and even if I'm not..." She shrugged. "You're smart and strong, you'll figure something out. Besides, I know what I'm risking. I wouldn't be heading into an enemy camp if I was afraid of death. If I'm going down, I'm going down to protect you and our people, that's worth it to me."

"Losing you isn't worth it," Kostas said quietly, shoulders slumping. "I already lost mom, Yelena. I don't want to lose you too."

Yelena sighed and knelt in front of Kostas, pulling her brother into her arms. "I'll always be with you, Kos, just like mom is still with us now. You only lose someone by forgetting them, and I know you. You don't forget. I'm not scared, big brother. I'm not, and you shouldn't be either. Let's save this little excuse for a country that we've made, yeah? Let's show those assholes who they're dealing with!"

Kostas managed a strangled laugh. "I'm not as brave as you, little sister, I never was."

"You're right, I'm so fucking awesome!" Yelena stated, then laughed and gently pulled back. "No, you're braver than me, Kostas. You're braver because I just do what I'm told, I run into things recklessly and do it because that's what I'm supposed to do. I act like a bitch, but if we'd been told to run I would have gone along with that too. You only ever do what you think is right. Even if that's harder. That's why you're braver, big brother, that's why I admire you." Yelena stood again and ruffled Kostas's hair playfully. "Now, I have to go. Head up, big brother. Even if I don't come back the people look to you. Dad's great, but there's no one here that's nearly to level that you are, everyone knows that. Let's fucking destroy these bitches!"

Kostas stood and hugged his sister again. "You're stupid." He stated. "But you're right."

"I'm always right."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"That's my job."

Kostas couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, yeah. Just... be careful, okay."

"Sure."

"I love you, little sister."

"I love you too."

An hour later, Yelena was gone, Kostas watched her walk away from his window, Karma, his close friend, had joined him in his room, watching silently beside him.

"Alright." Kostas sighed finally, stepping away from his window. He hadn't cried. He hadn't cried since his mother's death ten years ago. Karma looked up at him, their blue eyes questioning. Kostas smiled weakly and put a hand on her shoulder. "I guess I don't have a choice but to trust her, come on Karma, we've got some work to do."

Karma smiled, they were an awkward person, identifying as non-binary. They struggled to talk to people most of the time and had a tendency to get defensive and speak harshly when they didn't really mean it. A defense mechanism. Kostas was the first person to actually accept them and treat them as a human being, as a result, Karma was extremely loyal to him, and, though they could still be instinctive sometimes, they were trustworthy and a good friend.

Kostas wasn't stupid, he always had a backup plan. If Yelena was successful, that was great, but even if she wasn't, Kostas wasn't going to let his people die. Their army was small, but if they could fight long-range, they might have a chance. It would probably take a few days, but Kostas's plan was to set up the hunters on top of the wall, ready to fight from a long distance if needed. It just so happened that Karma was the best shot in the settlement, so they would be in charge along with Kostas and Lizzy. Then, behind the wall, the people were working on building a second defense, a smaller wall that was more sturdy and more deadly, with spikes on top and a smooth surface that made it hard to scale. This, of course, would take a while, so that had to move fast.

The only thing Kostas was worried about, was if they could move fast enough. If the enemy group attacked now, they would have to change plans, the battle would start out a little better because of the archers, but in the end, it would probably be hand-to-hand, and that wouldn't be good.

Corbin would be sent out to patrol their semi-established perimeter. While it was definitely a large one, he could handle it on his own. Keeping his handgun out and his knife at the ready, Corbin scanned the area to the best of his abilities. Along the south there was nothing, in which Corbin would be relieved. His head pounded, though he wasn't sure if it was out of excitement. Maybe regret?

Corbin hummed softly to himself, following the tree-line. In the distance he could see the lights of the settlement, sighing softly. He observed for a moment. The silhouettes of people doing as they wanted. In a way, Corbin longed for something organized like that. However, he couldn't live that life.

It just wasn't him.

Corbin turned around as heard distant yelling of a familiar voice. "Shit," he muttered, rushing towards the sound. Corbin squinted slightly, only starting to remember that he was slightly blind. He never really let it stop him considering the world they lived in. Corbin wasn't one to stop because of one thing - he could definitely care less.

"Who the fuck is this?" One of the members of Corbin's group demanded, looking at Sam. Corbin cocked his head slightly, looking at the woman.

"She's from the settlement," Sam responded. The woman was more pampered than those in Corbin's group, but what could they do? Nobody really had power anymore. Corbin eyed the woman for a moment.

"We would know if she's from the settlement," the other man said. "She didn't even come that way. Besides, she looks a little too roughed up to be from the settlement," he added.

Corbin nodded. He understood his point, though Corbin felt slightly off by this woman. There was no guarantee that she could be trusted, so he looked towards Sam.

"Take her back to camp, we'll question her," he stated, turning to head back towards camp.

Corbin grabbed the woman by her arm, getting a firm grasp. He looked at her up and down, taking in her expressions and features. He squinted slightly before he kept looking forwards, the other man on the other side of her.

As the three men entered the camp, Sam looked over his shoulder to look at his two men and the woman. He whistled, two other people rushing over.

"Tie her up in one of the spare tents. Keep an eye on her," Sam stated, the two others nodding.

"Do we know where she came from?" Corbin asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, but we shouldn't take chances. There's no way she's from the settlement though. That place is miles away, nobody would willingly come across our camp," the one man said. Sam nodded in agreement.

"He's right," Sam inhaled.

"What're you thinking?" Corbin asked. He could tell when Sam was thinking, and this was one of those moments.

Watching as the two men took the woman towards one of the spare tents, Sam and Corbin both watched. Sam looked at Corbin. "We just can't be sure. I want you to question her - and remember-"

"We don't hurt women," Corbin finished his sentence. Sam nodded.

As ruthless as the group was, they had a code. Hurting women was a part of that. Of course in their certain circumstance of burning down buildings and stealing supplies, there had been some losses of women. Or what they thought, the exact numbers weren't known to Corbin's group - nor did they care.

Corbin entered the tent where the woman was, ordering the two other group members to leave. Seeing her tied to the chair, Corbin stood only few feet in front of her.

"Who are you and what do you want?"