Caine Graves1
froze to death |
Caine. That is his name. It wasn't always his name or maybe it always was, no one will really ever know unless they bother to ask and unless he actually has a mind to tell them. He doesn't talk much of his life before the disaster, in fact he doesn't really talk at all. You can't tell from first glance, but he was badly injured by the volcano. His neighborhood was very close to the the park. Almost close enough to be considered 'immediate area', the entire town was wiped out. He and three others were the only survivors. One by one, they began dying off. Caine wanted to die but didn't. Even to this day, he questions why God or fate or whoever/whatever was in charge didn't just take him and end his misery. He now bears a hideous scar from the back of his neck and down his entire back, reaching to his shoulders and wrapping around towards his stomach. It's a strange scar of a crisscrossing pattern, not easily created or healed. He is only sixteen, seemingly too young to bear such a scar or such pain from it, but he does, and he does so silently. He never complains, never speaks up for himself. He stays quiet and out of sight. Some call him shy or timid, but he's not, not really. Ask him to throw himself out on the battlefield and he will do so gladly and with much passion and zeal for the fight, spurred on by his adrenalin and his much suppressed emotion. He's not emo or anything, he just has a hard time expressing and explaining himself. He does so mainly through his artwork and his poetry. Yes, he's an artist of sorts. He always carries a backpack with him and besides the necessities for survival, he always has his various scraps of paper and notebooks and his moderate sized sketchbook stashed inside. He is always scrounging around for pencils and paper, since most of it burned away with the bombs. He was always a studious person, so he often enough fishes books out of the rubble and reads them before hiding them away. He doesn't like seeing people use books to fuel fires, but he knows that they do what they must to survive. Caine is somewhat of an outcast, even among rogues. He knows he's a shifter despite that he can't shift whatsoever. He just has a feeling that he can, a feeling he can't describe, just as he can't really describe anything else. Whenever he tries to shift, he says his scar burns him, and that is why he can't. It's not that his scar is the link to his shifting, he believes that he was too badly damaged to be able to shift anymore, but he tries sometimes nonetheless. He says he shifted before, but he never remembers those moments. He only knew he had shifted because someone told him, but those people died before they could tell him what it was he shifted into. Caine doesn't seem to have very good memory besides that. He doesn't even remember his name really, that's why he always says, "You can call me Caine, or anything else you'd prefer." Most people call him Caine, but there are plenty of others who call him other things. He doesn't look like much of a fighter, more or less like a pretty boy with his jet black hair and his icy blue eyes. But never underestimate his skill. He is extremely resourceful, and being an artist and a dreamer, he has invented his own fighting styles and his own weapons. His most preferred weapon and fighting style, well... you'll just have to wait and see.
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Zzyzx Rururu8
eating by a bear in an abandoned subway |
Zzyzx was born for this life. He just knows it. He's always possessed inherent survival abilities and a higher level of instinct than reason. He can take care of himself and others, which actually makes him quite an efficient guard. He may not look all that strong, but he's proficient with all manner of weapons. He prefers anything that doesn't make a noise. Guns just draw attention. Grenades draw even more. He's a fairly quiet person and prefers fighting quietly. He's a magnificent hunter and scout, and it's well known that he goes off into the outskirts often enough when not on guard duty. At eighteen years old, he acts far more mature for his age, and will sometimes take on more adult duties, even leadership ones when the case arises. He's fairly calm in social settings, not particularly shy, just quiet and observant. He gets his point across, he's polite, he says what needs to be said, but otherwise he keeps his mouth shut. Zzyzx could hold his own in a fight if he had to, but he rather keep his mouth shut and not risk saying something that might start a fight. He's lean and appears wimpy as previously stated, but he's strong. He's tall with a willowy build, broad in the shoulders and he has a very strong core, giving him an adept sense of balance. He has dark brown, slightly wavy hair that he keeps cut short. He stays clean shaven, and he has somewhat fair skin despite all the time he spends outside. He has inquisitive, bright brown eyes, the color of almonds. He's almost always got an animal in tow, having an odd knack with them. Usually it's a dog, but sometimes he finds cats. They don't last long. People have to eat, you know. And sometimes dogs and cats are all they got. Zzyzx understands. He doesn't like it, but he understands. He will always go scrounge up a new companion though, and he usually protests other people eating his pets, but it's their survival that comes first, and he understands in the end. The longest pet he's had so far is a happy-go-lucky Caanan dog he calls Piper. The two of them go off hunting, and Piper has proved rather valuable, smelling when people or other forms of danger are nearby. And Piper knows how to be quiet and sneaky, just like Zzyzx.
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Kyrie Barrows6
bleeding from gunshot wounds attracted rats that ate him alive |
Kyrie may be thought of as nothing more than a simple survivor, but there is far more to this young man than meets the eye. He's brave enough to stand his own ground and skilled just enough to have a chance. If he wins, it's pure luck, but he's not in it to win every battle. He does what he does simply because of his rebellious nature and he feels he has something to prove. This attitude can get him in trouble, but he cares just enough to not get kicked out of an area by other survivors who see his presence as a threat. He has nothing to lose since it's already gone, so he has no reservations in giving his everything to a cause that may not be worth fighting for. This entire side of him arose during the end of the disaster's strike. There are those moments when he acts out against the will of the masses and breaks the boundaries set by those stronger than he. Kyrie is something short of stable. His mind was fractured by the disaster, and since then, he's been perpetually unhinged. He feels the need to defy and fight and kill. It's a nagging desire that won't stop and won't leave. He is dangerous, more dangerous to others than to himself. He isn't self destructive, just destructive. If he saw the opportunity, he would start a war. Those who get close to him should be careful. There's no telling what he'll do or what he is really capable of doing. Sometimes he even surprises himself. Kyrie is average. He's five foot eleven and fairly lean with streamlined, compact muscle. His skin is rather fair and only flawless on his hands and face. The rest of him has some scar or other, which can be a bit odd and ugly at first sight, hence why he always wears long sleeves, tall collars, jeans, and tall boots. He has dark brown hair, dark till it's close to black. It's slightly wavy, more on the straight side, and he usually parts it to the left, keeping it out of his face as much as he can since it grows rather fast and ends up in his eyes. His eyes are metallic green-gray color, like a murky olive drab. He has a rather strong yet smooth face that gives him a cold look. He's often compared to being icy or stony, which is usually the way he acts towards others as well, so it fits. He often gives others the cold shoulder and sticks by himself as much as he can. He is always watching, observing, and sometimes, poking and prodding at others from the shadows, trying to find out what makes them tick, and what stops them from ticking.
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Easton Dubai5
decapitated by Mallie (rped by Northers) |
There's something about him that doesn't tick. There's a silence to him where sound should be. Tameless, faceless, heartless. There are those that say dreams never come true. Well, that could never be further from the truth. His one greatest wish, his only desire, was to watch the world burn. It did. It burned brighter and fiercer than he could have hoped. Easton is a destroyer. He tears things down, wether they be people or things. He hunts, he kills, he brutalizes, he fights. There's no softness to him, only razor sharp cruelty. When the volcano happened and it spread its fire across the continent, he was more than thrilled. His dream had come true, literally and figuratively. He never helped anyone, in fact, he joined in the carnage. Donning a gas mask he found at a firehouse, he went through the fires and the destruction brutally killing people. Then he woke up and the world was gone. He had no idea where he was. The ground underneath him was black and burned. There were dead bodies all around him. He felt he had woken from a long, dark sleep, and then he remembered that all he had seen wasn't his imagination. It doesn't make much sense to people that Easton suffers from split personality disorder. Mostly because his personalities are the same. The only difference is that one kills and one does not. They don't have different names. They don't act differently. They don't like different things or not like different things. They are almost identical. Just that one kills and one does not. They are fully aware of each other, but both have been around since Easton was born, so neither knows which is the 'real' one, or if there even is a real one or not. Everything the killer does appears to the other as a dream and vice versa. It's hard to really gauge the relationship they share. It's almost like they're symbiotic beings. Because of the killer's tendencies, Easton pretty much sticks to himself and melds into the background. He's the lone wolf type, but doesn't feel alone since he never is. He always has himself to watch his back.
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Aldobrandino "Dino" Azzari10
suicide |
Aldobrandino Azzari; more commonly called "Dino" (pronounced like dee-no), has lived off of lying, deceiving, and following his instincts for years. Age twenty-one, but at first glance he seems more like twenty-five, he has seen a lot of the effects of the disaster. Up close. Personal. It took his parents, his friends. Everyone he cared for either died, suicided, or was torn apart during the after effects. The only person it didn't take from him was his little brother Vito. They spent many years running, hiding, just trying to stay alive. Unlike Vito, Dino has killed people before. Normal people. The ones who have remained unaffected and innocent. He had to do it to survive. He had to compromise everything just to keep the two of them breathing another day. He seems completely devoid of regrets of his past actions as he knows it was him or them. And he chose himself. He always prided himself on his instinct. Always doing the right thing, making the right choice, able to think quickly on his feet and adapt to the situation. He always told his brother that no matter what, they had to survive. Not just for themselves, but for each other. His brother is gone now. Vanished. They don't know where the other is and are always looking. Dino knows his brother is still out there, obeying his order and staying alive. If Vito was dead, he would feel it in his heart. He knows this more than anything. The two have always been close, joined by a bond stronger than brotherhood. He seems to have become very self centered after he got separated from his brother. He used to be more open and caring when they were together, but now what little of the qualities he possessed have all been suppressed and faded. He doubts even his brother's return will change him back to how he was. Dino looks like his brother in some ways. Spiky black hair, piercing gray eyes, though more icy. And his skin is fairer than his brother's. He's built up in muscle, not as lean as Vito. He's very calculative, and one can never really know what he's thinking. He's very good with his hands, and his powerful muscles make many arduous tasks easy.
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Vito Azzari4
suicide |
Running out of time and space, it won't be too long before it's all over for Vito. Survive. That word has been etched into his skull for the past couple weeks he's been on the run. It's the last thing his brother told him before he was lost. It was the last friendly word he heard. It's the only thing keeping him going. Survive. Fight. Live one more day. Vito and his brother were two of the few, the lucky; the people spared from the horrid disaster known as the volcano. When it hit, they witnessed everyone around them changing. For some it was instant, for others it was slow. But everyone knows the gist of the stories. People died. People killed each other. People killed themselves. Death, death, death. Through sheer luck and his older brother's determination, the two of them managed to escape the slaughter and live on their own. They adapted to a life on the run. They hunted. They took shelter, they made fire, they learned how to doctor themselves. There was a short time when they were actually safe. It was a time when they were happier and survival wasn't so hard. Then they became separated. After that, everything fell apart. He has flashed back to earlier years; the years of running and hunting and killing. He has reentered that mode, that constant mindset. Now alone he is completely fending for himself. He doesn't really know what he ought to fear more: the forces of nature or the people left behind. He's killed tons of the people in self defense, but never a person that didn't start a fight first. He is definitely the dictionary definition of courageous. He will face anything challenging and does not back down. Even in the face of all this that is happening to him, he manages to plunge through it. Many say he is fearless, but whether that’s true is considerably up for discussion. He prefers the term determined. H is determined to live because he fears for his life. It is the fear that drives him every day. Vito isn't usually the cold. He can be quite the fun loving type, easily making friends left and right under normal circumstances. He was never one to be negative, always the pessimist. He usually faces everything with a smile on his face, until battle erupts or a threat is near. Then he's all serious. Vito is quite a handsome young man with tanned skin, spiky black hair, and dark gray eyes. He is an incredible athlete, and quite sharp witted.
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Arkadi Arashi6
disappeared... like a boss |
There are things that come crawling out of the woodwork. There are things that tap at the windows in the thunderstorms. There are things that go bump in the night. And one of them is Arkadi Arashi. But you need not fear him. You need to forget him. Forget you ever laid eyes on him. Forget you ever thought of him. Just ignore the dark young man in the blood red trench coat standing over your bed. When he says go back to sleep, you better start counting sheep like your life depended on it. Because when Arkadi's around, you know that things are about to get real. You know that something's about to go down. Bad stuff doesn't find him. Animals don't smell him. People don't go looking for him. But he? He finds them.
And when he tells them to go to sleep... ... they don't wake up again. Ever. |
Samrathe Clegane6
self mutilation with pipe through stomach |
Samrathe is just a kid. Barely fifteen, he's been saddled with the duty to guard his baby brother and stay alive. It's harder than it seems. When the whole volcano eruption hit, there was no warning. No sirens wailed, no radio messages or TV broadcasts came on. Sure, there had been news of odd sightings and talk of strange phenomena that spread like a virus across the net, but when the world ended, no one had been prepared. How could they be? When it hit, Sam's dad took off running and never came back, leaving Sam alone with his mother and baby brother. He had abandoned hope, but his mother hadn't. She brought them out of the fire and on to better places. They learned how to survive together. They hunted, fished, built shelters, fought and ran together. Samrathe found hope in that. He hated his father and would never forgive the man for leaving, but he found hope that he and his mom and brother would be okay. Ever sine his brother was born, it was an instantaneous bond. He cared for Reddard and guarded him closely. While his mother recovered, he took care of them both. Then when she was better, he focused all his attention on Reddard. He often carried Reddard on his back wherever he went since his mother insisted on carrying the heavier things. He would go off alone sometimes and talk to Reddard, telling his brother about everything he was going to teach him and all the things that the three of them were going to do together. He even fantasized they'd find someplace where the volcano hadn't hit. Just the three of them. But it all changed one night. Unknowingly, the little group had walked into some unwelcoming territory. A band of men came on motorcycles, wielding shotguns and other weapons Sam had never seen before. They said things... things he didn't like. They made a move at his mother and he tried stopping them. But he was just a kid, only thirteen at the time. They just laughed. He grabbed one of the guns and shot two of the men. One died, the other just got shot through the leg. The group descended on him and beat him within an inch of his life, literally. His mother defended him viscously, best she could, but they overpowered her easily enough. They were bigger, faster, stronger, and not half-starved and exhausted. Then they forced Samrathe to watch as they raped his mother over and over again. Samrathe begged them to stop but they didn't. Obviously. It went on for hours. When they finished, she was dead. They lit the undergrowth on fire, got on their bikes and left. The forest soon became ablaze, and it was all Samrathe could do to crawl over to Reddard, grab him, and run. They barely escaped, and for the next few weeks, they were always in danger and vulnerability. Sam's injuries didn't have time to heal and kept reopening. They came close to starving to death, and it wouldn't be the last time. Danger was everywhere. The shadows seemed darker. Samrathe just kept going, fighting the fear and the pain. He hated it. Being so vulnerable. Being so alone. He had Reddard to protect but no one to protect him. He has made Reddard his top priority. He plans to keep moving until he finds somewhere safe. It's been months, and still no luck. On and on he goes. Where he goes, nobody knows. Someday he'll just drop to the ground and never stand up again. That's the only thing left in store for him. To give up. He's thought about it. He came close to killing himself and his brother more than once, end their suffering. But he's never gone through with it. Perhaps he still has hope. He doesn't know.
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Reddard Clegane6
beaten to death by Samrathe |
Reddard, or just Red, is a young boy of about three years old. His mother died when he was one, leaving his older brother to take care of him. He doesn't understand much, being only a little kid yet, but he tries, he really does. He's very sweet and carefree, and the Nasty People scare him a lot. Sometimes he feels like his brother is mad at him, and this makes him very unhappy. He's generally a shy boy around other people when they chance upon them, having never been around other people except Samrathe. He tries to help out where he can, but his skills are severely limited at this age. He can't hunt, fight, or really defend them, never mind himself. So he does other small things. He thinks seeing the empty towns are fun and adventurous, but his brother is always worried that the Nasty People or some other danger will come out and harm them.
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Marius Rose5
died somehow I'm sure (neglected to kill this one) |
Marius has been on his own pretty much his entire life, and nothing ever changes that fact much. He was cut out to be a loner, but he knows it is far better to adapt then remain adamant and die. He's a bit of a hard person, not easily swayed or attached to anything. He only seeks to fulfill a purpose and ensure that there are people who can survive in this dangerous new world. It helps him get over the loneliness and the feeling that he doesn't belong anywhere. Perhaps someday he will find peace and a way to settle down, ending the mad race around the world searching for closure. Marius' mother was a vagabond; always on the move and struggling for survival. She raised him herself, taking him with her everywhere. For sixteen years he travelled with her, looking out for her and protecting her. When she passed away, he just kept going as she did, and he feels like he will never stop. Marius is a well built, nineteen year old, young man. He has bright green eyes, tan skin, and spiky, dark brown hair. He's lean and lithe, a machine built for fighting and surviving. He's been well trained to handle wild predators, and zombies are no exception. He's very resourceful and inventive, able to turn pretty much anything into a weapon. He's agile and possesses incredible stamina. In fact, the more tired out and pained he gets, the stronger and more ferocious he becomes. He can eventually run himself into the ground, which isn't the greatest thing to do, but its possible. He has a high level of pain tolerance. Once, he cut off a chunk of his side and threw it at wild dogs to distract them while he escaped (not a very big piece of flesh, mind you, but still). He can be very compassionate and considerate, a good listener and not much of a talker. He's practical and very dependable, though he himself is independent. He doesn't feel like he'll ever belong with a group of people, but he'll do what he needs to do to survive.
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