Post by Tbone110 The Lazy Bastard on Sept 5, 2009 11:06:49 GMT -5
"It was a virus. An infection. You didn't need a doctor to tell you that. It was the blood. It was something in the blood. By the time they tried to evacuate the cities it was already too late. Army blockades were overrun. And that's when the exodus started. Before the TV and radio stopped broadcasting there were reports of infection in Paris and New York. We didn't hear anything more after that.’"
'28 Days Later'
Your Name: Eric Johnson, named after the greatest guitarist in the world.
How many years roleplaying?: 4
"Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --"
Emily Dickinson
Character Name: John Dillon
PB: Thomas Jane. Yes, The Punisher.
Age: 29
Date of Birth: October 21, 1979
Residence: A small town in the Southern Unites States known as Red Oak, Texas.
Profession: During the day he works as a concrete finisher for the local construction agency, while at night he aspires to be a professional boxer, motivated by his own father's failed dreams to achieve this goal.
Appearance: Standing at 6' even, John is a man of average height. Though his height is nothing spectacular, his physique is a different story. Having worked nearly all his life in construction, having started at the tender age of 10 due to financial problems at home, his muscles are well developed and he has the stamina one would expect from a man who toils in the blazing sun from sun-up to sundown.
John is a handsome fellow, some would classify his appeal to opposite sex as 'rugged'. His skin has been bleached by the sun on numerous occasions, leaving him with a tan that will now stay even in the most arid of environments. He keeps his hair short due to his occupation as well as the fact that he views long hair on men as irresponsible and childish.
His style of dress is very simplistic, he feels no need to adorn himself in designer clothes or blind his acquaintances with mountains of jewelry. Most often, he wears a simple, single colored T-shirt with denim jeans, though on occasion he has worn shorts, much to the dismay of anyone unfortunate enough to stare at his ghostly legs. His choice of footwear varies depending on the time of day, he wears two inch thick, Red Wing boots when on the job and the appropriate boxing shoes when in the ring.
Personality: Raised by a Ex-Sergeant in the United States Army, John's father raised him with a sense of honor and decency that is very uncommon in today's time of rampant cynicism and selfish individuals. He was instilled with an extreme sense of right and wrong, taught to help anyone that may be in need no matter the risk to himself.
John likes to make observations before making a decision, he's found that careful consideration is one of the strongest attributes to leading a successful life. He curses those that rush in head first without even considering what the consequences will be, this has led to more than one fistfight that has transformed into a full-on brawl.
History: As a very young lad, John's life was blissful for a toddler, he received every toy he ever asked for while maintaining a sense of decency, knowing when to stop asking for playthings. He world was completely shattered at the age of seven, when his mother suddenly vanished while coming home from work one day. The police never found the body so John and his father were never able to receive proper closure....
During adolescence, his father attempted to raise John as best he could. But money soon became tight, with the young man having to take side jobs whenever he could to bring home money to assist his father. His father couldn't raise John on his military pension alone due to outstanding debts he had acquired in his youth.
Despite all this, John emerged as a humble man, one who is able to find happiness in the world no matter what life throws at him. At least, that's what he believed until the infected arrived. They came in such force that the government was unable to respond in time. They had broadcast stories of cannibals in the North, but nobody any mind to these, they believed it was all a hoax in order to obtain ratings. The government itself was too foolish and ignorant to react in a timely fashion, resulting in the downfall of the Superpower.
The day of the outbreak, John and his father had suspicions that something was coming, something that would rock their world to its very core. This was confirmed when the infected arrived in full force, coming so swiftly that some could realize what had happened until it was too late. They held their ground for two days, utilizing their knowledge of the surrounding terrain to their advantage. But as equipped and prepared as they were, the infected eventually broke through and so it came to be that John's father sacrificed his life so that his son could live on, his dying words being those of regret and silent acceptance of the situation.
Now John wanders the ruins of his once proud nation, attempting to find any sign of survivors or a place to fortify so that he may take a stand against the infected scourge.
Likes: -Pizza
-Women
-Chess
-Satisfaction after a job well done
Dislikes: -Recklessness
-Fools who pick fights for the hell of it
-Enclosed spaces
-Fire
Strengths: -Excellent physical condition due to his professions
-A decent marksman thanks to his father training with firearms
-Skilled in boxing, his coach would drill him into the ground until he perfected his technique
-Surviving in the wilderness, again thanks to his father camping with him
Weaknesses: -Beautiful women, he tends to stutter when in their presence
-Disagreeing, he'll often point out any obvious flaws within a person's plan
-Reckless people, he will not tolerate such foolishness
-Large groups of people, John prefers small amounts of other humans him at one time
Parents: Father: deceased
Mother: Body never located, believed to be deceased
Siblings: None
Spouse: None
Children: None
Roleplay Sample: (One thing, it's been a while since I've role played so this material might seem a bit rusty):
Bridget stirs a little then wakes up, making John jump for joy. "I thought you might've been hurt badly." John tells her, taking her hand. "I'm okay but my clothes, not so much." Her shirt is ripped in the back and about to fall off, she has to hold it up with her free arm. Her right pant left is ripped all the way up to her thigh, she feels a breeze just sitting in the car.
"You really got banged up back there Bridge. I thought you weren't going to make it for a second." Samantha says solemnly. "I was thinking the same thing." Bridget replies. "That's not a good attitude. If we were all thinking like that, we'd have been dead a long time ago." John states strongly, lifting the mood the in the car.
"A town's up ahead, let's get you some new clothes." John turns the air in the car off when he notices the fuel gauge. "Of course it's almost empty. It always is when we find the car. Next time I'm going to a dealership." John grumbles, parking the car on the side of the road as the engine starts to die.
"You coming or do y'all wanna stay here in the car?" John asks Bridget and Samantha. "What do you think? I'm not going to sit here and be bait for any wandering zombie." Bridget huffs, climbing out of the car. In that moment of hastiness, Bridget's shirt falls off for John to see her bare chest. "Nice. It is a little cold out huh?" He laughs, picking her torn shirt up. "I'll warm you up." He grabs her waist and pulls her in close, moving slightly sideways for obvious reasons. "Here, use this." He slings the shirt over her chest then around her back, tying it together with a strand of rope he had his molotovs on before.
Samantha feels like a third wheel after watching John and Bridget from inside the car. She awkwardly steps out as Bridget's shirt is fixed. "Oh I'm sorry Sam! I forgot you were in there." John says quickly, breaking up the weird silence. "It's okay, you don't have to apologize." Sam looks down at the ground as she says this, feeling lonely despite being with two other people. "Hey we still have to do something about the car." Bridget suggest, changing the subject.
"Wait. We don't have any gas cans." John groans, seeing the empty trunk. "Does that mean we have to push it?" Bridget is unsure of how they're going to do this. "Yep. Pretty much." John puts the car in neutral, plants his feet, and pushes off with his hands while Bridget heaves with her back to the car. "This is easier than I thought it'd be." Bridget grunts, moving the car closer to the gas station down the road. "Of course it is, the car rolls pretty easily if it's in neutral." Sam grunts, now in a bad mood.
The store and town are deserted, not even a zombie is anywhere in sight. "I need to take care of some business." Sam is using the restroom while the others get ready." "This place is too quiet. It's like something scared off everything else." Bridget looks around, filling the car up while John loads some food into the trunk.
"You're right. There aren't any dead bodies. I know that's not a pleasant sight but these buildings should be littered with 'em like every other place. But we'll worry about that later. We need to find you some clothes NOW." John opens the door for Bridget, who's pant leg rips a little more as she climbs under his arm. "Blue. Didn't you liked that color." John gives Bridget a love tap before she is seated. "Don't do that here. It's too open." She hints, John slides quickly over the hood so they can get to a more private location. Sam again feels like dead weight as they forget she's there.
In the GAP of a strip mall, Bridget is in the changing room while John and Sam wait outside. Keeping an eye out for any peeping toms, he tries to sneak a look himself. "No watching John! I need a little alone time!" She shouts when she sees his eye through the curtain. "Would you stop teasing me already woman?! A man needs to satisfy his libido every once in a while. Sheesh!" John is exasperated by his frustration at this point, he leans awkwardly against the wall in his jeans. Sam is entertained by they're aruging, if only for a little while.
"So? What do you think?" Bridget walks out in a red top and skirt that leave little the imagination. Her black heeled boots are leather, stopping at the middle of her calf. (Bridget right now:
[image] )
"Ohh senorita, Papi needs to discipline you." John says, moving in to steal second base. "Not yet! Sam's still here. You'll have to wait a little longer." She pushes him back with a stiff finger. "Lord help me control myself." John whispers, standing almost in an arch as his jeans get more uncomfortable. "Oh boy." Sam giggles, now in a better mood.
As Bridget romps back to the changing room, the store is shaken by a tremor. She stumbles and lands on her knee, looking at John and Sam for an explanation. "Let's go." John says quickly, helping her up. "What do you think it was?" Sam asks as she gets up. "Let's not worry about that." John says as they head out of the store.
The street begins to crack as they walk outside, heading straight for them. "Run!" Bridget shouts, pointint it out to John. "Don't have to tell me twice." He's ahead of Bridget in a few seconds, who has a difficult time running in her skirt. "Catch up already!" Sam yells back, ahead of them. "Hop on!" John lags a little and picks Bridget up in his arms, booking it for a fire escape as the crack gets closer.
John tosses Bridget up, she grabs Sam's hand and hoists herself up. John follows suit, pulling the ladder to the fire escape up behind him. The crack stops just under them in the alley. "Is it gone?" Bridget asks. "Hopefully." Sam pants, leaning against the wall. "I doubt it." John peers over the edge in time to see a worm-like creature burst through the ground.
It hits the side of the building, shaking the entire fire escape. Bridget staggers sideways and falls over the rail, holding on for dear life with a single hand. "No!" John runs and grabs her hand as she loses her grip, barely holding her fings to keep her from falling. "Bridge!" Samantha grabs John's waist to keep him from plummeting over the side too. The worm creature goes back underground, closing its mandibles to keep sand out of its mouth.
"Hold on! I've got you." John reassures Bridget but he doesn't know if he can keep his grip up. "You've got her! Just pull her up!" Sam encourages. "I'm doing that!" John snaps, angry at her for stating the obvious.
The level of the fire escape they are on has been knocked from the building, leaving it swinging freely through the air. "Don't drop me!" Bridget screams, her hat falling off to the ground below. The worm bursts up again, swallowing her hat before retreating again. "Come on! Pull John!" He pants as he keeps himself steady on the rail with one hand, Bridget dangling from the other. Sam's feet slide toward the rail as Bridget hangs a little closer to the ground.
'28 Days Later'
Your Name: Eric Johnson, named after the greatest guitarist in the world.
How many years roleplaying?: 4
"Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --"
Emily Dickinson
Character Name: John Dillon
PB: Thomas Jane. Yes, The Punisher.
Age: 29
Date of Birth: October 21, 1979
Residence: A small town in the Southern Unites States known as Red Oak, Texas.
Profession: During the day he works as a concrete finisher for the local construction agency, while at night he aspires to be a professional boxer, motivated by his own father's failed dreams to achieve this goal.
Appearance: Standing at 6' even, John is a man of average height. Though his height is nothing spectacular, his physique is a different story. Having worked nearly all his life in construction, having started at the tender age of 10 due to financial problems at home, his muscles are well developed and he has the stamina one would expect from a man who toils in the blazing sun from sun-up to sundown.
John is a handsome fellow, some would classify his appeal to opposite sex as 'rugged'. His skin has been bleached by the sun on numerous occasions, leaving him with a tan that will now stay even in the most arid of environments. He keeps his hair short due to his occupation as well as the fact that he views long hair on men as irresponsible and childish.
His style of dress is very simplistic, he feels no need to adorn himself in designer clothes or blind his acquaintances with mountains of jewelry. Most often, he wears a simple, single colored T-shirt with denim jeans, though on occasion he has worn shorts, much to the dismay of anyone unfortunate enough to stare at his ghostly legs. His choice of footwear varies depending on the time of day, he wears two inch thick, Red Wing boots when on the job and the appropriate boxing shoes when in the ring.
Personality: Raised by a Ex-Sergeant in the United States Army, John's father raised him with a sense of honor and decency that is very uncommon in today's time of rampant cynicism and selfish individuals. He was instilled with an extreme sense of right and wrong, taught to help anyone that may be in need no matter the risk to himself.
John likes to make observations before making a decision, he's found that careful consideration is one of the strongest attributes to leading a successful life. He curses those that rush in head first without even considering what the consequences will be, this has led to more than one fistfight that has transformed into a full-on brawl.
History: As a very young lad, John's life was blissful for a toddler, he received every toy he ever asked for while maintaining a sense of decency, knowing when to stop asking for playthings. He world was completely shattered at the age of seven, when his mother suddenly vanished while coming home from work one day. The police never found the body so John and his father were never able to receive proper closure....
During adolescence, his father attempted to raise John as best he could. But money soon became tight, with the young man having to take side jobs whenever he could to bring home money to assist his father. His father couldn't raise John on his military pension alone due to outstanding debts he had acquired in his youth.
Despite all this, John emerged as a humble man, one who is able to find happiness in the world no matter what life throws at him. At least, that's what he believed until the infected arrived. They came in such force that the government was unable to respond in time. They had broadcast stories of cannibals in the North, but nobody any mind to these, they believed it was all a hoax in order to obtain ratings. The government itself was too foolish and ignorant to react in a timely fashion, resulting in the downfall of the Superpower.
The day of the outbreak, John and his father had suspicions that something was coming, something that would rock their world to its very core. This was confirmed when the infected arrived in full force, coming so swiftly that some could realize what had happened until it was too late. They held their ground for two days, utilizing their knowledge of the surrounding terrain to their advantage. But as equipped and prepared as they were, the infected eventually broke through and so it came to be that John's father sacrificed his life so that his son could live on, his dying words being those of regret and silent acceptance of the situation.
Now John wanders the ruins of his once proud nation, attempting to find any sign of survivors or a place to fortify so that he may take a stand against the infected scourge.
Likes: -Pizza
-Women
-Chess
-Satisfaction after a job well done
Dislikes: -Recklessness
-Fools who pick fights for the hell of it
-Enclosed spaces
-Fire
Strengths: -Excellent physical condition due to his professions
-A decent marksman thanks to his father training with firearms
-Skilled in boxing, his coach would drill him into the ground until he perfected his technique
-Surviving in the wilderness, again thanks to his father camping with him
Weaknesses: -Beautiful women, he tends to stutter when in their presence
-Disagreeing, he'll often point out any obvious flaws within a person's plan
-Reckless people, he will not tolerate such foolishness
-Large groups of people, John prefers small amounts of other humans him at one time
Parents: Father: deceased
Mother: Body never located, believed to be deceased
Siblings: None
Spouse: None
Children: None
Roleplay Sample: (One thing, it's been a while since I've role played so this material might seem a bit rusty):
Bridget stirs a little then wakes up, making John jump for joy. "I thought you might've been hurt badly." John tells her, taking her hand. "I'm okay but my clothes, not so much." Her shirt is ripped in the back and about to fall off, she has to hold it up with her free arm. Her right pant left is ripped all the way up to her thigh, she feels a breeze just sitting in the car.
"You really got banged up back there Bridge. I thought you weren't going to make it for a second." Samantha says solemnly. "I was thinking the same thing." Bridget replies. "That's not a good attitude. If we were all thinking like that, we'd have been dead a long time ago." John states strongly, lifting the mood the in the car.
"A town's up ahead, let's get you some new clothes." John turns the air in the car off when he notices the fuel gauge. "Of course it's almost empty. It always is when we find the car. Next time I'm going to a dealership." John grumbles, parking the car on the side of the road as the engine starts to die.
"You coming or do y'all wanna stay here in the car?" John asks Bridget and Samantha. "What do you think? I'm not going to sit here and be bait for any wandering zombie." Bridget huffs, climbing out of the car. In that moment of hastiness, Bridget's shirt falls off for John to see her bare chest. "Nice. It is a little cold out huh?" He laughs, picking her torn shirt up. "I'll warm you up." He grabs her waist and pulls her in close, moving slightly sideways for obvious reasons. "Here, use this." He slings the shirt over her chest then around her back, tying it together with a strand of rope he had his molotovs on before.
Samantha feels like a third wheel after watching John and Bridget from inside the car. She awkwardly steps out as Bridget's shirt is fixed. "Oh I'm sorry Sam! I forgot you were in there." John says quickly, breaking up the weird silence. "It's okay, you don't have to apologize." Sam looks down at the ground as she says this, feeling lonely despite being with two other people. "Hey we still have to do something about the car." Bridget suggest, changing the subject.
"Wait. We don't have any gas cans." John groans, seeing the empty trunk. "Does that mean we have to push it?" Bridget is unsure of how they're going to do this. "Yep. Pretty much." John puts the car in neutral, plants his feet, and pushes off with his hands while Bridget heaves with her back to the car. "This is easier than I thought it'd be." Bridget grunts, moving the car closer to the gas station down the road. "Of course it is, the car rolls pretty easily if it's in neutral." Sam grunts, now in a bad mood.
The store and town are deserted, not even a zombie is anywhere in sight. "I need to take care of some business." Sam is using the restroom while the others get ready." "This place is too quiet. It's like something scared off everything else." Bridget looks around, filling the car up while John loads some food into the trunk.
"You're right. There aren't any dead bodies. I know that's not a pleasant sight but these buildings should be littered with 'em like every other place. But we'll worry about that later. We need to find you some clothes NOW." John opens the door for Bridget, who's pant leg rips a little more as she climbs under his arm. "Blue. Didn't you liked that color." John gives Bridget a love tap before she is seated. "Don't do that here. It's too open." She hints, John slides quickly over the hood so they can get to a more private location. Sam again feels like dead weight as they forget she's there.
In the GAP of a strip mall, Bridget is in the changing room while John and Sam wait outside. Keeping an eye out for any peeping toms, he tries to sneak a look himself. "No watching John! I need a little alone time!" She shouts when she sees his eye through the curtain. "Would you stop teasing me already woman?! A man needs to satisfy his libido every once in a while. Sheesh!" John is exasperated by his frustration at this point, he leans awkwardly against the wall in his jeans. Sam is entertained by they're aruging, if only for a little while.
"So? What do you think?" Bridget walks out in a red top and skirt that leave little the imagination. Her black heeled boots are leather, stopping at the middle of her calf. (Bridget right now:
[image] )
"Ohh senorita, Papi needs to discipline you." John says, moving in to steal second base. "Not yet! Sam's still here. You'll have to wait a little longer." She pushes him back with a stiff finger. "Lord help me control myself." John whispers, standing almost in an arch as his jeans get more uncomfortable. "Oh boy." Sam giggles, now in a better mood.
As Bridget romps back to the changing room, the store is shaken by a tremor. She stumbles and lands on her knee, looking at John and Sam for an explanation. "Let's go." John says quickly, helping her up. "What do you think it was?" Sam asks as she gets up. "Let's not worry about that." John says as they head out of the store.
The street begins to crack as they walk outside, heading straight for them. "Run!" Bridget shouts, pointint it out to John. "Don't have to tell me twice." He's ahead of Bridget in a few seconds, who has a difficult time running in her skirt. "Catch up already!" Sam yells back, ahead of them. "Hop on!" John lags a little and picks Bridget up in his arms, booking it for a fire escape as the crack gets closer.
John tosses Bridget up, she grabs Sam's hand and hoists herself up. John follows suit, pulling the ladder to the fire escape up behind him. The crack stops just under them in the alley. "Is it gone?" Bridget asks. "Hopefully." Sam pants, leaning against the wall. "I doubt it." John peers over the edge in time to see a worm-like creature burst through the ground.
It hits the side of the building, shaking the entire fire escape. Bridget staggers sideways and falls over the rail, holding on for dear life with a single hand. "No!" John runs and grabs her hand as she loses her grip, barely holding her fings to keep her from falling. "Bridge!" Samantha grabs John's waist to keep him from plummeting over the side too. The worm creature goes back underground, closing its mandibles to keep sand out of its mouth.
"Hold on! I've got you." John reassures Bridget but he doesn't know if he can keep his grip up. "You've got her! Just pull her up!" Sam encourages. "I'm doing that!" John snaps, angry at her for stating the obvious.
The level of the fire escape they are on has been knocked from the building, leaving it swinging freely through the air. "Don't drop me!" Bridget screams, her hat falling off to the ground below. The worm bursts up again, swallowing her hat before retreating again. "Come on! Pull John!" He pants as he keeps himself steady on the rail with one hand, Bridget dangling from the other. Sam's feet slide toward the rail as Bridget hangs a little closer to the ground.
