Post by Horizon on Dec 1, 2014 21:47:00 GMT -5
GRAY, LYRIC R
I Wipe My Brow And I Sweat My Rust
Full Name: Lyric Reed Gray
Alias: Ly, Gray, Narcissistic Prince
Age: 25
Occupation Before the Apocalypse: Stuntman
Hometown: Houston, Texas <Note:Trying to go where most characters are so I can actually RP.>
Weapon of Choice: Lyric dual wields with pistols but does also carry around a dagger and the occasional found item that he deems useful.
I'M BREAKING IN, SHAPING UP
This is it, the apocalypse
Hair Color, Style, and Length: Lyric's shaggy hair is chocolate brown, not incredibly short, yet, sets roughly on his eyebrows. He actually takes good care of his hair, all things considering. He has a pair of scissors in his pack which he'll use every now and again to give it a bit of a trim.
Eye Color: Lyric's eyes are a striking cobalt blue. They are often playful and mysterious, yet, hold a sense of seriousness.
Body Type and Height: Like many in these desperate times, Lyric had to get a bit more in shape. He was never really the jock type, yet lifted weights every now and again. He has a mesomorph build, and is rather toned in muscularity. Lyric stands confidently tall at 6'0"
Clothing Type: Lyric usually will go with a blue colored hoodie and a black leather jacket. His pants are your normal everyday blue jeans and black converse.
Marks and Scars: Lyric has one scar so far, a large cut mark going down his left forearm. This was due to his younger sister stabbing him.
Faceclaim: Tyson Ritter <Note: More like the 2009 Tyson>
I'M WAKING UP
I Feel It in My Bones, Enough To Make My Systems Blow
Likes: Killing the dead, explosions, women, cooing over himself, compliments geared towards him, mirrors, flirting, his smile, his face, showers
Dislikes: Staying in one place for too long, feeling caged, being shushed, being ignored
Strengths: Handles gore well, excellent endurance, suitable physical strength
Fear(s): Becoming one of the dead, losing his hair, being 100% alone, commitment
Goal(s): Survival
I RAISE MY FLAG, DON MY CLOTHES
It's a Revolution I Suppose
Family: Originally living in Austin, his family consisted of his adoptive mother, Trinity, his younger sister, Clary, and the two young twins, Helen and Ellen.
How Many Walkers Have They Killed?: Too many to count anymore. He enjoys going out and clearing the area, though, he's been smart enough not to rush head on into a horde.
How Many People Have They Killed?: A considerable amount.
Why?: Mainly because he felt threatened, or he was attacked. Some, he just wanted to put out of their misery. He is accountable for his whole family's death.
History: Lyric had spent much of his early years in foster care, just waiting to be taken into a permanent family. At a young age Lyric started to develop his confident and narcissistic personality.It was his way of showing other kids how cool he was- being a lone wolf sort of kid. Having no family, not needing to depend on anyone for anything. This has resulted in him not really knowing what it means and how to fully depend on someone. He has difficulty with letting someone else in charge or holding the reins. As Lyric drifted into his teen years, he ran away from his current foster home, no longer wanting to sit around and wait for someone to want him. That thought caused his more, "It's all about me, don't worry about anyone else," attitude. With the Apocalypse, it is rare for him to help someone out, as he only thinks about his own survival.
His teen years were spent slumming around, doing various odd jobs around the area to ensure a relatively steady income. In his late teens, he stumbled upon an wanted ad in the newspaper, searching for a stuntman. Attempting to get the job, he applied and was later accepted. He spent most of his time training, pushing out the last of his friends. Justifying that he simply no longer had time, and was moving on to bigger and better things. The pay was small time, especially since it went mostly towards professional training.
Near sixteen, he went back into his foster care, only because money was a bit tight, and he needed a roof over his head and food in his belly. Lyric did not expect that a family would finally want him. Was it because he could become another breadwinner to the family? He wasn't sure, but a single mother with three other children wanted him of all people. Lyric to this day continues to speak highly of his mother, and is very pained when retelling the story of her passing. Surprisingly, the boy became a family-oriented person, spending anytime he could with his mother or younger sisters.
Towards the age of eighteen, he finally picked up his passion again, and started to make it in the stunt industry when his twenties came around. He was about to stunt in a large film that was probably going to make him the big bucks, and give his family a bit more of luxury he thought they deserved. Of course, the damned apocalypse had to make an appearance during the filming. Lyric was about to do a risky flip on a dirtbike when screams filled the air, people falling like flies. Suddenly, habits took over and he shot off with the bike, not evening attempting to save anyone but himself. Arriving at home he found that his youngest sister had been bit.
The family tried to disinfect it, clean it up, anything to keep her from turning. She was only five. Lyric, of course, blames himself. Why hadn't he been there? Why wasn't he fast enough. In the end, it was up to Lyric to take his sister down. Shooting her right between the eyes, before holding her limp corpse in his arms until the sun set. Afterwards, the rest of his family had a well fortified the house. They weren't exactly sure what was going on, but Lyric knew it wasn't safe to just leave the doors open. Already Lyric's personality was becoming colder, less merciful. His mother, was still kind hearted and wanted to help what was left of humanity. By then, they had lasted in the apocalypse, it was rather short lived. His mother wished to aid survivors whenever she could. One night, she let a certain survivor in. She hadn't even bothered to check and see if he was bit, infected, becoming one of the walking dead.
What happened later that night still haunts Lyric's every waking- and even sleeping, moments.
ALL SYSTEMS GO, THE SUN HASN'T DIED
Deep in My Bones, Straight From Inside
Your Alias/Nickname: Horizon, but feel free to address me by my actual name; Courtney.
RP Experience: Roughly two years now.
RP Sample: <A sample from a good six months or so ago, I'd like to think I improved even slightly since. c:>
Music filled Remington's ears, sharply, causing his head to shoot upward, eyes snap open in surprise but then frown in disgust, partially at being awoken from his light slumber. A slow melody, perfect. Something he wasn't into, he liked energized, loud music that just made one want to dance. No doubt many others would find the piece beautiful, but due to Remington's extraordinary hearing (And music taste), he never did well with the echoing music in the large, extravagant hall. Most of the area was vacant, kids still not having arrived yet, while Remington had been the first one here, napping in one particular nook, snoring lightly, tucked in the shadows, curled up like a dog. A sigh escaped the odd blue haired boys lips, his head aching. The resonance was particularly bothersome this day. Yesterday he'd been up all night because of a full moon, a great way to spend the last night hunting with his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. But if anyone asked, he'd refer to them as his family. More of a family then my biological could ever be.. The thought was bitter, momentarily darkening his already agitated mood. Ear twitching in irritation, he took a deep breath, calming himself once more.
Digging into the pockets of his jeans, he found his ear plugs, and placed them in his wolfish ears. Shifting his weight, he took a whiff of the air. He could no longer catch the smell of bacon that had come off the plump staff member he met earlier. The temptation to bite him had been quite difficult to sustain. This time around, he caught an unfamiliar smell. Two different, distinct ones being emitted into the air, actually. Going onto all fours, a gift or more so perk of being a Half-Beast, and put his head to the ground, sniffing and searching for the smell, curiosity taking it's toll now that he had been shaken awake by the sounds of music. The large fountain and pillar had been blocking Remington's view of the newcomers, which led him on this small adventure. Coming into view, he snapped his head upward in one, lanky movement. Remington was not yet used to his height and often made lanky and awkward movements, which would become graceful with age.
"Oi!" Remington called, his voice ringing through the large, vacant hall, making him frown slightly at the pain in his head. Disregarding the fact the two silhouettes could be in deep conversation and was just budging right between. Being one of the rare moments he wasn't stumbling over his feet, he started to run towards the group, his tail wagging behind him, his ears twitching in anxiousness, causing his plugs to fall out and swiftly continued to transfer to running on his hind legs, or going bipedal. No doubt the boy was a sight to see, blue hair glinting in the sunlight that filtered in through the glass dome, a wolf tail and ears to boot, and running at the pair in top speed, his earlier, moody attitude disappearing with his optimistic one in it's place, a goofy grin on his face.
