Post by Shane Richardson on Feb 23, 2010 18:37:55 GMT -5
Name: Shane Richardson
Name Meaning: God is Gracious
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Town: Ulric
Former Occupation: Used to a veterinarian assistant before he quit
Height: 6’0’’
Ethnicity/Skin Tone: Caucasian
Hair: Black
Eyes: Pretty light brown
Clothing Choice: A dark blue shirt with a black hoodie, jeans, and gray Converse.
Personality: Shane’s very apathetic and tends to not care about anyone or anything. He carries around a Mr. Cool façade and usually has a frown on his face.
Strengths: Since he was once a doctor’s assistant at the veterinarian clinic in Ulric, Shane is expertly skilled when it comes to serious wounds or broken body parts. He tends to be highly intelligent and can think up plans in a second if he feels like it.
Faults: Shane’s faults revolve around his attitude. Though he’s skilled in tending wounds and broken body parts, Shane would very rarely help you and tend to himself instead. He’s easily irritated and if the people he’s hanging out with push him over his irritation limit he leaves them. He also carries the physical prowess of a teenager who engages in little to no strenuous physical activity and therefore can be out-ran easily, not a good thing whenever a horde is involved.
Sample Post: It was pitch black. The moon, shining dully above, did little to shed its eerie light on the deserted city below. The usual familiar sounds of cars and people chattering loudly was replaced by the low moaning, groaning, and screams of infected, a.k.a. zombies.
The streets and alleyways were rummaged among them. They walked slowly, as you would expect from a zombie. Their eyes moved carefully…left to right, up and down, searching every shadow and window in the abandoned buildings for their food, a.k.a. humans. But there was no trace that humans once lived in the city. They had either managed to flee or were turned into one of the flesh-eaters.
An infected was seen standing on the very edge of a rooftop. For reasons unknown its unusually long tongue was hanging out of its mouth with no intention of going back in. Its beady, hungry eyes searched the streets below for a snack. When there was no trace of any food, the infected let out an angry, aggravated groan and reluctantly stepped back away from the edge of rooftop, melting back into the shadows.
Shuffle, shuffle. Stop. Shuffle. Stop.
Appearing in a cold shaft of moonlight came a black-haired boy. He stopped as he assessed the perimeter in front of him, searching for any infected. He was medium-height, dressed in nothing but a dark blue shirt, black hoodie, and dark blue jeans. Gripped firmly in his right hand was a pistol. Sure that no infected were around, he quietly reloaded the gun.
It sure is amazing how fast that infection spread! the boy lightly smirked to himself as he cautiously made his way down the deserted street, killing an infected he came across. And to think I just thought the infection was just some rumor a kid who got bored with his pathetic life made up.
Suddenly a green, smelly liquid covered him. Shane curled his lip and cursed as he realized a boomer had vomited on him and hated himself for not realizing it was there. Spotting the familiar red door of a safe house he raced for it with the horde of zombies trying to get a taste of the irresistible bile. He only had a pistol on him since his pump shotgun had run out of bullets and he hadn’t discovered an ammo stash. Reaching the red door he quickly stepped inside and shut the door, right into some of the zombies’ faces. He leaned against the wall and let out a sigh.
“I’m boned.” Shane moaned. He paused for a minute. “And I smell like shit!”
Notes: At first glance, Shane seems like a real douchebag, which he is, but actually a trusted and loyal friend if you have the time to get to know him.
Name Meaning: God is Gracious
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Town: Ulric
Former Occupation: Used to a veterinarian assistant before he quit
Height: 6’0’’
Ethnicity/Skin Tone: Caucasian
Hair: Black
Eyes: Pretty light brown
Clothing Choice: A dark blue shirt with a black hoodie, jeans, and gray Converse.
Personality: Shane’s very apathetic and tends to not care about anyone or anything. He carries around a Mr. Cool façade and usually has a frown on his face.
Strengths: Since he was once a doctor’s assistant at the veterinarian clinic in Ulric, Shane is expertly skilled when it comes to serious wounds or broken body parts. He tends to be highly intelligent and can think up plans in a second if he feels like it.
Faults: Shane’s faults revolve around his attitude. Though he’s skilled in tending wounds and broken body parts, Shane would very rarely help you and tend to himself instead. He’s easily irritated and if the people he’s hanging out with push him over his irritation limit he leaves them. He also carries the physical prowess of a teenager who engages in little to no strenuous physical activity and therefore can be out-ran easily, not a good thing whenever a horde is involved.
Sample Post: It was pitch black. The moon, shining dully above, did little to shed its eerie light on the deserted city below. The usual familiar sounds of cars and people chattering loudly was replaced by the low moaning, groaning, and screams of infected, a.k.a. zombies.
The streets and alleyways were rummaged among them. They walked slowly, as you would expect from a zombie. Their eyes moved carefully…left to right, up and down, searching every shadow and window in the abandoned buildings for their food, a.k.a. humans. But there was no trace that humans once lived in the city. They had either managed to flee or were turned into one of the flesh-eaters.
An infected was seen standing on the very edge of a rooftop. For reasons unknown its unusually long tongue was hanging out of its mouth with no intention of going back in. Its beady, hungry eyes searched the streets below for a snack. When there was no trace of any food, the infected let out an angry, aggravated groan and reluctantly stepped back away from the edge of rooftop, melting back into the shadows.
Shuffle, shuffle. Stop. Shuffle. Stop.
Appearing in a cold shaft of moonlight came a black-haired boy. He stopped as he assessed the perimeter in front of him, searching for any infected. He was medium-height, dressed in nothing but a dark blue shirt, black hoodie, and dark blue jeans. Gripped firmly in his right hand was a pistol. Sure that no infected were around, he quietly reloaded the gun.
It sure is amazing how fast that infection spread! the boy lightly smirked to himself as he cautiously made his way down the deserted street, killing an infected he came across. And to think I just thought the infection was just some rumor a kid who got bored with his pathetic life made up.
Suddenly a green, smelly liquid covered him. Shane curled his lip and cursed as he realized a boomer had vomited on him and hated himself for not realizing it was there. Spotting the familiar red door of a safe house he raced for it with the horde of zombies trying to get a taste of the irresistible bile. He only had a pistol on him since his pump shotgun had run out of bullets and he hadn’t discovered an ammo stash. Reaching the red door he quickly stepped inside and shut the door, right into some of the zombies’ faces. He leaned against the wall and let out a sigh.
“I’m boned.” Shane moaned. He paused for a minute. “And I smell like shit!”
Notes: At first glance, Shane seems like a real douchebag, which he is, but actually a trusted and loyal friend if you have the time to get to know him.