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[lionheart2061]

Welcome, interesting and beautiful character. Ill add her to the roster ^^ You may post when you are ready.

We will currently not be accepting anymore females. We will only be accepting males from here on out until we have reached 4. Feel free to create more than one character, as long as you can keep track of them.

[Oakfrost]

T H O M A S  H A Y E S
"What's in the past is in the past. Just keep moving, rookie."

The warm summer air lingered around the two figures as they sat across from each other on a square silken blue blanket in a grassy field. A tree hung over them, providing enough shade from the sun's deadly rays in the afternoon light. The woman that sat before the man took his hand and entangled his fingers with her own. Her mouse brown strands of hair danced with the cooling breeze and her glimmering chestnut eyes held the warmth in her simile. "Write to me, okay?" She said to the man before her, tilting her head to the side while tightening her grip. The couple locked eyes for several moments before the man finally spoke, shifting himself closer to the woman. "Of course. I always do," he said chuckling to himself. His answer didn't seem to satisfy her as she pursed her lips at his response. "Promise me, Tom." Thomas smiled, brining their interlocked fingers to his own lips and planting a gentle kiss on her fingers. "I promise," he whispered softly, using his free hand to pull a stray leaf that had drifted into her hair. She leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder as the two watched a dog and it's owner happily play on the field in the horizon.

All was peaceful until the interaction between the dog and owner seemed a bit odd to Thomas. Was the dog- No, it couldn't be. The dog appeared to be attacking the owner, and not playing with the owner at all. It's jaws carrying a set of sharp pearly teeth snapped at the man while growls emitted within the dog's core. The lazy sun and grassy surroundings seemed to morph into a concrete jungle with tall standing buildings. Tom's brows scrunched together in confusion just when he was about to turn to the woman beside him to ask if he was just seeing things, he realized the warmth of her head on his shoulder had grown stale. She was no longer beside him. "Al?" Thomas wanted to call out, but he couldn't. Instead his words were choked on blood that poured out from his mouth and ran down his chin, crimson droplets staining his skin. The dog's terrifying howls were drown out by the screaming of people who ran in fear down the streets that were already heaving with countless others. No one seemed to notice him standing there, coughing up his own blood. He was suddenly rammed from his side and clumsily tumbled down to the asphalt below him. "Allison!" His throat dry with blood managed to let him croak out. Where is she! His brain flooded with a thousand outcomes to Allison's whereabouts when a familiar ring buzzed through his ears. Gunshots. A bunch of them. Shots seemed to be firing into the street at the hopeless people, as Thomas's body surged with pain. A fully armored figure with an automatic rifle was the first to take notice of him on the ground and eventually his whole crew joined in with him on approaching Thomas. Tom tried to move his arms to prepare to fight but his body seemed to be paralyzed. They aimed their weapons directly at him, the sun reflecting of the shinny black material. In unison the ear-splitting echo of the shots filled the chaos and a brutal pain like no other hit his body.

Thomas's stormy blue eyes immediately shot open as he bolted upright from the flat broken down mattress where he was resting. The room was dark mostly dark, but as soon as his eyes began to adjust he realized that morning light was filtering through the dusty window pane. Perspire beaded down his forehead and his bare chest was heavily glazed with sweat. His hair was a complete sticky mess from the sweat that drenched his pillow. The skin over his knuckles were red and slightly bleeding, the skin worn raw. Figuring it was just another outcome of his sleeping problems, he swung his legs over the the side of the mattress and leaned his head in his palms. The dog tags around his neck rattled with his movement. True, he was no longer apart of the US Marines Corps, but he still had a certain pride for wearing them. To show the others that not every soldier kisses the Government's boots. After the riots, the thought of serving his country in a military that no longer lives up to their motto sickened him. He was tired of pretending he agreed with what the President was doing and so he moved on to fighting for a better cause.

His body still ached with sleep deprivation, but his mind was still shaken from his dream. He had been having the same exact dream for about two weeks now. What was once a memory turned into a nightmare. What did a dream matter to him anyways. He was probably getting less than 5 hours of sleep every night anyways. Thomas picked up a half filled water bottle that lay beside his resting place and torn piece of cloth underneath it. Unscrewing the plastic cap, he poured out a small amount of water to dampen the cloth. The moist cloth soothed his skin as he began dabbing it around the places he was sweating. Not long after, Thomas shoved his feet into his boots and tightened the laces which took awhile because his hands were shaking from remembering his dream. He lazily put on a black t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants on that was tossed somewhere in the area around the mattress. Finally, he fastened a watch with leather straps around his wrist. His heart swelled as he remembered the watch had been a gift from Allison. It was the last thing she had given to him before he departed for service, and the last time he ever spoke to her before she went missing. Smoothing his hair, he exited the room he was resting in and went down to the living area.

Reclining on one of the rugged sofas in the living space, he picked at the scabs that started to form on his knuckles. At least he hand't done something insane this time. Like the previous night when he had woken up with a knife clenched in his hands that he had no idea where he had gotten it from. Preoccupied with his hands, he failed to notice Carson enter the building. "Serene calls for a supply run. You in?" The muscular blonde called out to Tom as he drew nearer. "Hell yeah. I got you covered," he said smirking at the Supplier. A supply run was exactly what we needed. It was something to keep his mind off of his troubles for awhile. "So, what am I risking my ass for?" Thomas rested his hands behind his head while putting his legs up on the equally rugged ottoman. "Medical supplies." Carson answered, entering the living room. "I need another Supplier for this one, though." Thomas slowly nodded, removing one one of his hands behind his head so he could read the time on his watch. "Well, it won't be long before everyone's up," he commented as he read the face of his watch. Mornings were different around here. Some were slow, some were rushed. But the time everyone woke up was usually the same. Lifting his gaze, he rubbed his eyes before reclining further back into the sofa.

Apparel

Allison (FC: Emma Watson)

[IndigoCloud]

Melody Henderson
There is an element of beauty to everything. Just not everyone sees it.

The dim light of the morning seeped through the windows, providing just enough light to tempt Melody out of her doze. These days, no one ever slept deeply unless they wanted to be haunted by those nightmares fuelled by the hell they were living. Melody abruptly sat up, rubbing the remains of sleep from her eyes and blinking a few times to let her eyes adjust to the scarce light. She stole a quick glance to her watch, rolling her eyes as she realised it was only half six in the morning. She ran a hand though her hair before standing up, listening to the cracks that came from her tired legs. After a while of trying to tame her long hair and washing away some of the never-ending dirt from her fingernails, Melody slipped on a tight grey tank top, a pair of her usual black skinny jeans and shrugged on a black hoody. She fingered her necklace -one of the only things she had left from the old, peaceful world- as she stepped into her black hiking boots. The young woman took a second to gaze out of the dusty window pane, letting the soft colours sooth her active mind. She stood for a second, dwelling on the fact that this sunrise could be her last, before walking out of the room and into the living area.

Melody smiled in greeting towards the few people that were up, digging her hands deep into her pockets. She sighed as she looked outside through another of the windows. She needed a chance to get out of this place for a while, it was beginning to get on her nerves with the repetitive routine day in and day out. Her ears couldn't help but pick up the conversation between the two guys behind her. "I need another Supplier for this one, though." These words caused Melody to turn her head slightly more in interest towards their conversation. "Well, it won't be long before everyone's up," She recognised the voices to be Carson, one of her fellow Suppliers, and Thomas, a Marksman. She grinned and spun around, "No need to wait, I'm up for it." She announced, looking down at Thomas, the good-looking one, and then back towards Carson. "Well that's fine with me, Melly." The blonde replied, using Melody's common nickname. He turned his gaze down to Thomas, "Are you alright with that?" He asked. Melody bit her lower lip, this was the perfect opportunity to escape the confinements of the base, her sanity pretty much depended on it.

[meeeea]

Rivaille

Certain things catch your eye, but pursue only those that capture the heart.

Thick eyelashes fluttered at the slight flicker from the morning lights as they shone down on Rivaille's pale skin. Heaving herself up into a sitting position, the General rubbed the back of her head and moved her ruffled blonde hair away from her sore eyes. She raised her prostetic arm up, moving her fingers ever so slightly as the rusty metal clanked as her fingers folded. Finally clutching her hand into a fist, Riv did a few fake punches to stretch out her muscles. Sighing, the blonde reached for her stained white gloves and slipped them onto her hands. Getting up into a wobbly stand, Rivaille leaned against the wall and quietly stalked through the halls, fixing her bracelet in an awkward manner before she came to a sudden halt in-front of the suppliers. Blinking, Riv tiredly raised her hand in a greeting, too tired to say anything. Overhearing what the others planned on, she merely lowered a brow and passed them. "Do whatever you feel like you need to do." In the middle of her sentence, she did an abrupt stop again and turned her head towards Melody, Thomas and Carson. "Just don't die." Flicking her head back with a hair-flip, Rivaille continue to patrol the dark halls- the General's footsteps echoing before fading into silence.

[Zarorah]

Xavier Hawthorne
"Go ahead. Keep telling yourself it'll get better. I can guarantee that those hopes will be torn down immediately."

Name:
Xavier Matthew Hawthorne

Alias:
He hasn't been given any.

Gender:
Male

Rank:
Loner/Rogue

Age:
22

Personality:

-Maybe a bit too brave
-Protective
-Brutally honest
-Observant
-Meticulous
-Stubborn
-Jumpy
-Sneaky
-"Floater"- Xavier doesn't always stick to one thing or side. He'll often float to whatever side he thinks he'll get further with.
-

Appearance:
Xavier stands around 6'2" with a wiry frame. His dark brown, almost black hair is usually kept cut short, no more than an inch or so above his scalp. His eyes, like his hair, are dark brown, albeit nowhere near as dark.  He is fairly pale, yet he tans very easily and somehow avoids becoming a two-legged lobster.  He tends to stick to darker clothing because it helps him stick to shadows. His usual attire consists of dark jeans, a black t-shirt, black and white converse, and a dark grey hoodie. He also has a fairly long, noticeable scar running from his left wrist to the middle of his forearm.

Strength(s):
-Very quiet
-Ranged weaponry (guns, bows)
-Can often sniff out BS
-Fairly well at withstanding cold weather
-Fast runner

Weaknesses:

-Scopophobia (Fear of being stared at)
-Locks up and panics if too many people are talking to him at once
-Doesn't always think things through
-Not the best at hand-to-hand combat
-

Crush:
He doesn't have one at the moment, but that's always subject to change.

Relationship Status:
Single. Very single.

Other:
Xavier's mind works in a bit of a twisted way- he sees a lot of things as a game, with winners and losers, and he'll do whatever it takes to be on the "winning" side.

[lionheart2061]

Accepted, welcome, you may post when you are ready.

I'll post as soon as I give everyone else a chance ^^

[silverMarie]

My PC is currently in the shop so I won't be able to post, sorry x.x)

[lionheart2061]

Thank you for letting me know ^^

[SoaringAway]

J A N E T - E M M A   S P R I N G
"Never knew being normal still applied for the apocalypse. Thanks for the notice."

"Sector 4 has been terminated due to an infestation," the old man that ran the orphanage muttered in an apologetic fashion, trying to reconcile the fallen victims of one of the earlier sectors formed for the Quarantined zones. Louis quietly glanced upon an old picture frame and frowned; it was of him and his late wife, Martha, when they were in the prime of the 50s. Even before the breakout, even before the orphanage, even before he knew this bitter departure and loneliness on this planet. till, those distant brown eyes seemed to have sparked a kindred light as his sights fell upon the tall, freckled assistant that he had known to be his 'niece.' And said niece had been twirling about a pocket knife between her knuckles, large green eyes glossy and full of interest to the contraption about it as she immediately, ran her thumb against the blade, ignorant as to the drastic and unfortunate news that he had summoned from the depths of his mind to actually confess to her. "Janet!" A frustrated whisper escaped from him as he walked over, his cane tapped in a carped fashion against the creaking wooden floor paneling as the young woman's eyes dilated and turned to the approaching figure.

Seated on top of a cargo box, Janet's legs dangled a bit above the ground. Innocently, she she held up the pocket knife with her thumb slowly retracting from the blade as the old man gruffed and shook his head, "Have you not heard a thing I've said?" "Louis, I have," said Janet with her eyes losing their sudden naive interest in the object and gazed onto the ground and quietly gave herself time to think and how to respond to him. "..But, what the hell can we do besides sit around?" That smart aleck comment came suddenly as the old man's brows furrowed together, almost ready to hit the girl on the head for her insolence as she was dubbed the lazy queen of the orphanage. "We can pray and hold our heads high or better yet, do something, unlike you," the man dismissed Janet immediately and slowly began to walk towards his desk and shake his head. Janet could only momentarily pause at that moment, able to read how much that angered her but it was true for the most part. Feeding, clothing, and nurturing children was one thing but saving countless other lives and preventing it from happening was another. Several others in the community openly mocked the group to have been too optimistic or too hopeful on the matter as the children took away from the food and vacant rooms that other families could've been using as housing was a rarity in and of itself. Well, one with working plumbing (for the most part).

"Janet, the children..." Louis couldn't appear to have finished his sentence, a hole caught in his throat. Even Janet didn't need to see his face to realize his eyes were growing misty, nearly on the verge of tears. She could only hopped down from the cargo box, dusting off her pants, and calmly walk over. A firm hand gripped onto the silent weeing man's shoulder as she withdrew a clean rag and held it out to him. "Are safe here and nothing will touch them," she stated with such subtle confidence and reassurance that he immediately looked at her in suspicion but dried his eyes and thanked her. "I just wished I knew how, Jane; I just wish I knew it was possible," Louis then shook off the fear as he discarded the rag back into the palm of her open hand and sat back at his desk, opening a large book for financing cost of the orphanage. "I need to busy myself, Janet. I apologize -- Just keep yourself busy and out of sleeping throughout the morning, you hear me?"


"Clearer than molasses," a crooked smile came onto her face as despite Louis having not seen it, the oxymoron itself suggested all the worse. "I mean it , Janet-Emma Spring!"His shout bellowed in a quick succession from depression to annoyance. All that could've been heard as Janet eagerly walking away and leaving this fantasy of being the lazy keeper for misfortune and lost boys and girls.




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[Venatorn]

Sorry I haven't posted yet, I just got home from Florida and haven't been able to get to my laptop. I'll post later tonight though.