Adenovirus 423 Adenovirus 423


Name

Lawrence Walker

Age:

24

Gender:

Male

Gang:

Obsidian Knights

Appearance:

Even without his heavy coat, Lawrence stands above most others due to his advanced, and colloquially elderly, age. His face is pale and somewhat thin, though a short and crudely kept beard gives it the illusion of being squarer. His auburn hair is cut short and often hidden behind a hat of some sort. The occasional scar populates much of his body. His left ring finger is missing, and his right little finger is removed to the first knuckle. His hands occasionally have a light tremor, particularly when it's cold.

He is rarely seen without his backpack, which carries mostly food and tools, though occasionally other things.

Weapons:

-12 Gauge pump shotgun, handed down to him by his father. Most of the manufacturing information has been worn away over time, but the phrase "Bene" is still legible.

-A single ice axe, he lost the other one at some point.

-A stout hunting knife he keeps in his boot, a present from his foster parents.

Personality:
With his age slowly climbing and the disease extending its roots into his system, Lawrence's standard stoicism has largely melted away into bitterness. Yet, he does persevere to try to find some sort of cure. Beneath his stony exterior, there's a shred of hope still pushing him along. Not for himself, not for Asha, but for Humanity.

Biography:
When I was young, they told me stories of before the war, when we could live for a thousand years.

Born outside the DC metropolitan area, Lawrence grew up in an independent colony for much of his life, learning to hunt, gather and survive outside of a city. At the age of five the virus took his parents, a fate not uncommon in the world today, at which point he was raised by a younger group of family friends. Aside from that, Walker isn't always keen on giving details about himself.

A few years ago he was taken prisoner, after a rather disastrous encounter with a band of raiders. After several long months of grueling conditions, he was greeted by shouting and gunfire as the camp he was kept at fell under siege. Jacob and the Obsidian Knights had sacked the compound and freed him, and he now owed these strangers his life, or what little time is left of it.

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Name: Lola Fread

Age: 22 years old

Gender: Female

Gang: South

Appearance: At 6'4 Lola stands to be a pretty tall woman however this does not keep her from being a confident and often lewd individual. With ruby red hair going no further than her chin and bright blue eyes her skin practically untouched from the joys of battle. Often wearing a orange bikini beneath worn camo pants and a long sleeved shirt that is more than likely to be left tucked into her pants and dangling from her waist. With a heavy backpack always on her back she is highly attached to it and won't hesitate to stab a bitch if they go snooping in her bag.
Only wearing a gas mask while out scouting when she is relaxing she takes it off.

Weapons:
  • M21 sniper rifle with orange and blue cartoon ghosts painted on its body. A little trinket she picked up from a raid.
  • 3 pocket knives, a collector even she is very excited when she finds a new knife while scouting.
History:
Born to teenage parents she grew up fast and learned to take care of herself. Not awfully heartbroken when they passed due to the virus she always was one to stay away from getting too attached to people. As long as she could survive.

No matter what she had to do to survive. She would do it in a second, and this key would be very useful in such survival. Keeping her social rank high within the south she is known as a scout but due to her flashy nature she isn't beyond making friends a little too quickly.

None-the-less her confident, flashy, and bubbly personality is easily cracked under pressure. Becoming desperate when captured and doing what she must to survive is her forte.
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Last edited:
Right, descriptions and locations added to the West that were needed.

Profiles for the rest of my characters will be done once I'm back home on the weekend of the 7th as I'll have my desktop then. East and West now have their own ooc threads so if you want to discuss plots and stories there, then feel free to do so.

Same for players of the North and South. I haven't got OOC threads up for them yet, as there aren't as many players in those areas yet, but if needed I can create them too.

I don't want to get too ahead of the game yet without North and South leaders around to plot and do their tactical moves, so for now we'll stick to having the character storylines in each area rather than advancing on the Key/prophecy cures or any type of war between factions.
 
EDIT: I don't know why I didn't get into this before. But I hope I can join in now.
Name: Hans Strohman
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Gang: None
Appearance: With his dirty blonde hair and Caribbean Blue eyes, Hans stands at 6'2". A muscular, broad shouldered arian.
Weapons:
- 2 Bodyguards equipped with Bullet Proof Vests and AK-47s
- 1 Bullet Proof Vest
- 1 Golden Desert Eagle
Personality: Hans Strohman isn't a very sensible person, in fact the only friends he has are his criminal pawns that he uses to do his job. Hans can get very aggressive at times and has very little moral boundaries; this is what makes him such a threat to those around him.

Biography: In short, Hans is an arms dealer. He is, in fact one of the most notorious organizers of crime in Washington, or atleast what remains of it.

He started out as a small businessman, buying cheap here and there and selling for a profit. But this was until The Key was discovered. Now business is booming, and Strohman is finding himself selling more and more to the four main Factions. He won't, however, do business with the subterranean barbarians who wish to see the world burn.
Other: Hans doesn't have an opinion on The Key, so he doesn't Affiliate himself with any Faction and instead does business in neutral territory.
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Name: Verity Acardi
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Gang: South

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Appearance:
Verity is a timid looking woman, not much past five foot tall and slim figured, and her clothes are always neat and fitting. Nothing about her says a ‘soldier’ or ‘fighter’, but underneath the long, dark jackets and in the pockets of her dresses she’s always carrying two pistols, and there’s various smaller blades in her stockings.

Verity’s face is pleasing enough to look at, nothing overwhelming, and her dark brown eyes are honest and look straight at the person she’s talking to, studying and judging them. She prides herself for being able to read others, while trying herself to keep her own secrets to herself. Her auburn hair falls to her shoulders straight, but Verity mostly wears it on a neat bun on top of her head. Like someone who spends her time outside, her skin is slightly tanned, although only her face, neck and forearms.

There’s no visible tattoos or scars, but there’s a noticeable limp on her right leg. It’s an old injury from her childhood, and doesn’t slow her down much, but when it gets cold and damp it aches.

Weapons:
Three small revolvers, at least two of them with her at all times. Several blades.

Personality:
Suspicious would probably be a word to best describe her. She trusts herself, first and foremost, and to earn her trust, people have to work hard. Only people she truly trusts herself to are her superiors, and to break her off that bond would be to destroy her in a way.

Verity rarely speaks of her fears, but deep down she’s very afraid of dying. She’s aware that it won’t be too many years left, but simply tries not to think about it. Same goes for many things; if it’s unpleasant or difficult, she pushes it aside and concentrates on her work and improving herself, she tires herself enough that nothing hurts anymore. Hence she’s in pretty good shape, aside from her right leg.

Only when intoxicated in one way or another does Verity let go and forget to keep up the facade, and in all honesty it doesn’t take that many drinks. Usually she’s painfully aware of that, but at times slips happen. At her core, she’s much more caring than lets people see, although equally honest - perhaps brutally so.

Biography:
One could say that Verity was brainwashed at a very young age, but there’s more to it than that. The South, Loki’s Kin were her family beyond blood ties. Of course her own parents were there too and took care of her when they could, but mostly they were tied into the cause and weren’t much at home, and like it was for all, they weren’t around nearly long enough to see her grow up.

It’s a heartless world to grow up in alone, but as soon as she was able to, she began working for the cause, just like her parents had before her. Surprisingly, Verity grew up to be a gentle soul that had to harden too much, too fast, and to keep herself sane she at times leans onto drugs to let go for a while. They’re hard to acquire but worth it for someone like her. Few times she’s gone close to overdosing, but managed to pull back each time. For now.

But just like alcohol, drugs make her let go of her mask for a while too, and so she prefers to do it alone, somewhere no one is seeing it or hearing it. Verity has never managed to keep another person close for long enough to fall in love either, so closest to love she’s ever felt has been the trust for her superiors, or whatever she had learned to love about her parents the few short years they were together.

Other:
  • She’s an addict, as mentioned before, although doesn’t use it all that often - maybe once a week or so, in small doses.

  • Verity talks to herself when she’s nervous, and starts biting her thumb.

  • She has basic knowledge of first aid, and keeps a small first aid kit with her in her bag.

This okay? ^^' Let me know if there's anything to change here!
 
@Cidrae accepted.

Feel free to join in any of the scenes in No Man's Land or contact some of the other South people to see if they wasn't to start something there. :D
 
Lyra Dakini Bernael
Underground
Age: 13
Gender: Female
Appearance:
  • Lyra looks like the girl next door. Her smile is just the right hint of warmth and welcoming. Bright green eyes are framed by lush dark lashes that give her a look of innocence. Mahogany waves of thick soft hair tumbles down to her waist when left unbound. She’s a beautiful child just beginning to blossom. She stands 4’8 inches tall and weighs 89 pounds. Her skin a creamy white so pale that one might wonder if she ever ventures into the sun.
Family:
  • Mother: deceased
  • Father: Deceased
  • Twin Brother: ????
Personality:
Lyra is soft spoken and happy to let others think what they will of her. She has her own set of morals and a driving need to find her brother, the only living relative she knows of and the only human she trusts.​

Lyra is almost always seen with at least the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as if she is amused by some secret that she is just about to share. She’s content to sit and listen to your tails of adventure and grand schemes for the future. She’ll even toss in a few suggestions if you peak her interest.​

She is far from antisocial though. She has a need to connect with others. She’ll even share her story if she’s feeling secure in her setting, which is often. Where ever she wanders she considers home. She will rarely lie, speaking the truth exactly as she sees it in a way that comes naturally to children.​

Background:
Lyra remembers little before waking up in a beat up rogue camp. It seemed to be the tent of a healer. Her head pounded and she reached for her brother, who was always within arms reach. She grasped only empty air. The kind lady that entered told her she had been alone when she was found and her brother most likely killed by the Underground. Lyra could feel in her soul that this was a lie. She fled the encampment when a random fire started in the very hut she awoke in. Her need to find her twin leading her to the Underground.​

Possessions:
  • backpack: Ragdoll, small vial of reddish liquid, sharpened stone, sometimes food, thin worn blanket and a crudely carved bear the size of her palm.
  • clothing
  • hairbrush
 
@Gypsy accepted.

I will make a post for my characters that are in the underground currently shortly. Feel free to post an intro for your character if you want, if not I will be posting for mine soon :)
 
Name: Jarrod Petrovic
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Gang: Underground Cultist
Appearance: A 5-ft-10, 170 lb boy of stoic and statuesque build and standing, Jarrod stands as if he were taller than he actually is. His face contains the tired, light blue eyes of someone who decided sleep was not the priority, and a sharp, Greek nose in a constant sneer. His dirty blond hair is cut short, military-style, bringing out his apparent forehead. A small stainless steel cross hangs from his neck by a chained necklace, which lays atop his worn out and stitched grey A-shirt. On top of this hangs an off-black button-down shirt which remains unbuttoned. Along with this, Jarrod wears a pair of black trousers and running sneakers.
Weapons:
Butterfly Knife, engraved with the initials "C-P"
An old but trusty Taurus Judge .45/.410
Pocket Knife
Personality: Jarrod is a self-proclaimed righteous man, only doing exactly what needs to be done. He wears the cross along his neck to remind him why he does what he does. Jarrod is calm, but alert. Quick, but stubborn and uncompromising. Very little makes him smile, but very much makes him upset, sad, or angry based on circumstances. Jarrod, despite his reasons, is mentally stable and strong, but though he believes to be righteous, he is emotionally fallible and gets no enjoyment from violence or anything of the sort. Violence and murder is simply a salvation at best and an unfortunate chore at worst.
Biography: Jarrod Petrovic was born in Georgia to Charles Petrovic and Mary Petrovic, the latter of whom died shortly after his birth. Charles Petrovic, though being a kind, nurturing man, was a strict, god-fearing Catholic who preached of the judgment over humanity. Jarrod was an only child, meaning he got all of the undivided attention from Charles, whom Jarrod oddly called "Charlie" instead of "Dad", as he continues to refer to him as such. Charles raised Jarrod as a strong boy, teaching him to shoot and to defend himself from as young as 6 years old. Around the time Charles passed away, he gave up his butterfly knife to Jarrod.
Jarrod took his father's words on humanity's judgment strikingly to heart. Charlie's death emotionally broke him, but he knew his words to be true. He believes firmly that searching for a cure to ADV is an atrocity, as is any Key that suggests anything besides the death of humanity. There has to be a reason for this virus to have plagued humanity, and it should not be hindered. Though Jarrod grew up with allies and friends who seemed to be loyal to him, once his intentions were clear, he promptly lost them (in one way or another). The isolation, though it was maddening, was merely a side effect of the ultimatum.
Popularity is no longer an issue of Jarrod's. Besides, popularity just hinders his goal.
Other:
“For six days, work is to be done, but the seventh day shall be your holy day, a Sabbath of rest to the Lord. Whoever does any work on it must be put to death.” | Exodus 35:2​
 
Hey everyone, just to let you know, I'm working out with a few people what resources are available in terms of electricity and fuel, if any, and will have something up here shortly as I've had loads of questions about them so want to make a clear guide on what is available before people get carried away with resources that aren't there. Let me know if you need a particular resource cleared up and I will add it to the list :)
 
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