/:/ Last Hope /:/ PG-13+ /:/ REMAKE /:/ Applications are now closed /:/

[Firewolf10]

Chance Mitchel
"Don't die for nothing."
Name: Chance Mitchel
Alias: Chance
Gender: Male
Rank: Rogue
Age: 27
Personality: Chance is known to be aggressive. He doesn't trust anybody and likely never will. He fights for what he believes in and plans to get revenge for his sisters death. He's hard-headed and bitter at times. He'll help if he knows you wouldn't have a chance without help. But as soon as he knows your good, he'll be gone.
Appearance: Chance has light briwn hair. His skin is a medium tone and he has hazel eyes. He's well built, and weighs around 180-200 and is also 6'3. {Not the best description. I can add more if needed.}
Strength(s): He is strong and thinks fast.
Weaknesses: He often has flash backs and it slows him down at times.
Crush: None {Subject to change}
Relationship Status: Single {Subject to change}
Other: Nothing

[lionheart2061]

Accepted, welcome to the rp ^^ I'll add Chance under Rogues. Feel free to start when you are ready

Applications are now closed

[Firewolf10]

Chance Mitchel
"Don't die for nothing."

Chance sat in a long since abandoned building. In his hand was a knife that he was fiddling with between his fingers. He let out a sigh and slid the knife into his belt, getting up to his feet and wiping his hands on his worn jeans. He made his way out of the door, or atleast where a door should of been. It was now hanging off the hinges on the btink of falling completely. Chance headed down the street, staying somewhat hidden as he did so. The Raiderz and the Military were problems for him. Raiderz not so much really, mainly the military. Chance walked into what was a clothing store. He had often found weapons under the counter for some odd reason. He stepped over and looked under the counter. "Yes.." He said to himself, pulling from under it a can of pepper spray. Not the best he had to admit but atleast it was something. He was carrying a small pouch and stuffed it in there, before leaving the building. He didn't stay in places long for fear of being caught by others.

[Venatorn]

Derrick Shaw
"F.E.A.R has two meanings: Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise.
The choice is yours."

Derrick stormed out of the crowd as they gathered, blood dripped from his bare knuckles. Before reaching the front of the camp when suddenly he was whipped around by Serene, "What the hell was that, Derrick?" She pleaded, "He pissed me off." He answered, surprisingly calmly. "You nearly beat him to death!" Serene argued, "He's lucky I didn't beat his ass to death! He held his case.  Before Serene could argue more, Derrick stormed off. "This groups broken!" He spat without turning around.
   "Whoa. Watch it brother." A familiar voice of Thomas, a fellow Marksman warn him as he scurried off. Without saying anything in response, Derrick continued to walk in silence.
    "Hey lil brother." Will called from behind him. "The hell you want?" Derrick snarled, he wasn't in the mood to answer anymore questions nor be bothered with. "Saw what you did to Ty's face." He snickered. "Yeah, and?   Before Will count taunt Derrick any longer, he turned the corner to the side of the building and sat against an old dumpster that reeked of rotten food. The male closed his eyes and leaned his head back, sweat ran down the side of his face. His hand was throbbing and creased with dried blood. He didn't mean to beat him as bad as he had, once he started he couldn't stop.
    The cold winter's night wind whistled through the air as Derrick sat on his bed, the sound of his mother's cries on the other side of the thin walls. Derrick stood up from his bed and walked out into the hall, there he found his mother cupping the side of her face and his father with a bottle of whiskey in his hands. His brother Will was in juvie for the third time that past year. "Mommy...?" Derrick whimpered, his father's eyes glared at the seven year old his father walked over to the boy and lifted his hand...
  Derrick jumped out of his light sleep, his hands race to his crossbow that lay beside him out of reflex. "Well that's enough of that..." He smirked before standing up, brushing off his pants and walking to the front of the camp.

[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."

Fiddling about with the pocket knife, the young woman had run off from the orphanage in ragged clothing that was often oriented for the male survivors of her time. She dusted off her free hand onto her pants, bitterly muttering at how the linked fence was often drenched in the dried blood of others but she was thankful that none were from her kids at the orphanage. "Let's see what we can go for..." Licking her cracked lips, Janet cupped a hand over her forehead and scanned the area as it was blistering hot and the glare from the sun didn't provide anything but light yet also served as a nuisance for her. Certainly, there were options opened for her to explore such as the camps scattered about the place either belonging to the government or rogues that came together. There was one in particular she had in mind for: Raiderz.

The fastened bandannas at her pants reminded her for the jobs needed for today: delivery and scavenging. Think of Miss. Spring as often the errand girl for those in the business of the black market. If someone needed to do a transaction and weren't able to go, she was their girl. Needed help trying to kill someone? Hello, my name is Janet-Emma Spring and I'm here for the job. A sort of quirky smile came onto her face as she resumed roaming the land and held onto her satchel that had a small box in it.

Located now near a top of several boulders, she remained to be knelt down and crawling as her eyes were upon the camp of the Raiderz. "Cool," a small whisper escaped from her lips. She quietly slid down and hid behind the boulder where a cool shadow was being casted. Janet calmly peered from behind the rock, crawling upon her knees, and spotted a familiar grumpy fellow walking towards the front. Brows shot up in joy at the sight of it. What was this grump going to today?  It wasn't the first time she had observed someone, well, she had seen countless others throughout her years walking abut the near territory of the Raiderz and this one just happened to catch her eye. Well, he would seem fun to mess with.

Retracting from the open, she picked pu her hair with a rubber hand and wrinkled her nose, trying to keep herself calm to continue observation. And yet again, green eyes widened enthusiastically to see members of the group going about to scavenge or guard the area.
NOTE:
If anyone wants to be the recipient o the delivery Janet has, do PM me. We can work out something. c: 

[Zarorah]

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

The only thing that woke Xavier that morning was a dusty ray of sunlight streaming through the shattered window of the shell of the house that he just happened to be staying in the previous night. He sat up, stretching his arms above his head until he heard a soft pop! in his shoulders.  Even as he stretched now, he grimaced; he'd only just made it here last night, barely avoiding one of those patrols. He'd come close quite a few times now, and he was positive that he should have been killed a long time ago.  However, by some miracle, he'd slipped in here quietly and without any trouble, and now, here he was, waking up in the morning in one piece.

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Xavier pushed himself off the torn carpet that had actually proved to be a decent bed for the night. Once standing, he bent over, allowing his back to stretch. As he stood back up, a glimmer out of the corner of his eye made him freeze. A military officer stood not more than fifteen feet away, gun in hand. The officer scanned the area, occasionally peering down the sight.  After a few minutes, it locked on to a target. Xavier pressed his lips into a tight line as the telltale crack of a gun rang out. A faint chuckle rose from the officer as it continued on its path, leaving behind the corpse of the loner it had just gunned down.

Once Xavier knew the officer was well out of sight, he darted forward.  Keeping low to the ground, he made his way over to the body, grimacing at the grotesque view. The loner lay with her eyes open, staring blankly at the sky. A gunshot wound to the side of her head oozed blood onto the ground, giving her some sort of obscene, crimson halo. He bent down, holding his breath against the copper smell.  He scoured her meager supplies, finding a few bandages, a packet of beef jerky, and a water bottle.  Once he had grabbed them, he returned to cover, tossing the supplies into his own pack.

"Rest easy, you rat," he mumbled to the corpse as he headed out, glancing in the direction of the fallen rogue.

((Sorry x.x Internet's been spotty. Very spotty.))

[Firewolf10]

Chance Mitchel
"Don't die for nothing."

Chance flinched upon hearing a loud bang only a couple blocks away. He knew it must have been the military gunning down one of the survivors. He quietly madehis way there only to see a guy searching the downed female. He took cover in the run down building beside the corps as the guy left then he stared down at the girl. She couldn't of been more than 16 by the looks of it. He shrugged it off. This wasn't thebfirst time he's seen a dead person. He merely walked the opposite direction of the guy and made his way across the street to a general store that looked like a bomb went off inside. It really could of happened, he wouldn't have been suprised. As he entered the first place he went was one isle with where there used to be drinks. He smiled upon finding a bottle of water on the floor. He slid it into his own bag and headed out of the store again. He slid down an alley way and then into another run down building, a house you would think. He scoured the house to be sure nobody else was hiding in there before he settled a bit. He walked all night and most of the day yesterday. He just wanted an hour or so to sit and relax.

[SoaringAway]

[[BUMP]]

[Zarorah]

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

Xavier continued along a dusty path, his backpack adding only the slightest amount of weight. After walking for a bit, he stopped, putting his hand to his head in an attempt to block the sun. If he kept on like this, especially in this heat, he'd end up passing out, or worse.  He plopped down beneath a tree, its leaves trembling in the light breeze, and unzipped his bag, pulling out the water bottle he'd lifted from the fallen rogue. She had actually looked fairly familiar, like he'd interacted with her before... He glanced at the bottle, grimacing at the distinct red tint of the blood that still stained the plastic.

He sighed, wiping it on his pants, which only smeared it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held the bottle to his lips, cautiously and carefully taking a sip. Surprisingly, not that bad. He took another sip before screwing the cap back on and freezing, his eyes latched onto a man that walked out of what looked like a compound, a crossbow in his hands. Xavier sat as still as he could, his hands clenched into fists. If the man so much as glanced his way, he would bolt. As long as he stayed still, though, he might have a chance.  As he sat there, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a woman who appeared to be a little older than he. What stuck out the most had to definitely be her stark, orange-red hair. 'It fits her, he thought, slowly getting up and backing away. If the man was distracted by the woman, he may just have a chance to get out of there in one piece.

[W00gi]

(( Re-cap plz?))