Joining Application

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Joining Application

Post  Draft on Sat Mar 17, 2012 11:32 am

Character name: Draft Dartmoore

Gender: Male

Type of survivor: Human

Character age: 24

Physical appearance: Draft is the average height for a human male. He wears a black hat with a wide brim, and a skull designed face cover. A black jacket covers his torso and the majority of his arms. His gloves meld into his outfit with color, and are wrapped tightly with belt-like fasteners. He wears plated leg protection up to the knee, and his jacket stops slightly lower than that. His coat is tattered near the bottom, and seems to be well worn.

Photo: (if you have one)
(I plan to set my profile picture to a photo.

Characters starting weapon:
A simple dagger, around 8" long.

A little about you:
I like turtles n' stuff.

Any background:
I play on a DBZ rpg along with most of the other members, from what I understand.

Sexuality: Straight

Sample RP (300 WC): (WC: 857)

Draft awoke to complete darkness. He could hear marching not 20 feet from himself. The ground seemed to vibrate slightly. There were a lot of whatever it was out there. The stench of his location just dawned on him. Immediately he began contemplating what was going on, and where he was. Last his memory could draw, he had been overrun. His town... had been overrun.

He was lucky. He had spotted them... the horde, and had gotten back from them. He had no weapons to attack from a range. What could he have done? He began to fumble with his small blade, attached to a holster on his arm. He could barely move. His fingers hardly had the space to fumble about, something was on top of him. By the feel of it, a lot of somethings. His eyes had begun adjusting and he was making slight outlines of his surrounding area. What in the hell was on top of him? He tried to turn a bit, but once he did, he couldn't turn back. Suddenly, a shout rang into his ears, and he heard an angry voice shouting the command,

"Alright. We've been ordered to vacate the premises. Every soldier is to leave immediately. Those appointed should set fire to this pile once all others are a safe distance. Do not. I repeat DO NOT, take off your masks."

"Pile? Pile of what?" Draft thought, then it dawned on him. He had remembered what had happened before he blacked out and ended up here. A small brigade of zombies had headed for the storage shed he was hiding in. They had smelled him. Rather than be cornered, he sprinted out. A gardening shovel as an improvised weapon, and his dagger drawn in his other available hand, he charged. He drove his dagger into the leader of the pact, the one in front. He had aimed for the brain, and he hit his target. The body went limp, but threatened to pull the dagger down with it. Draft tried to pull the dagger out as quickly as possible, but it didn't happen quite as fast as he would've liked.

The dagger pulled out, and he drew it back, but the force of the zombies had pushed him backward, and before he knew what was happening, he fell onto his back. He must have hit his head, for he felt a soreness in the back of his skull, and it would explain why he passed out. Having been drawn into his own thought, he nearly forgot. He was about to be set up in flames. He tried to shout, but his voice wouldn't come. Then a third realization hit him. He finally pieced together what exactly this pile was... It was a pile of zombies... and he was at the bottom of it.

At this thought, a sudden burst of adrenaline surged through him, and his muscles burst to life, as did his ability to talk.

"No, stop!" Draft roared, as he powered himself up. He didn't know exactly how, but he managed to get to his feet, and a pile of rotten carcasses moved from above him. The exact moment one of the soldiers appointed to burn the pile noticed that the was moving, he shouted for the others to fire their weaponry at it. Draft noticed that there were 2 soldiers. The one who had been shouting raced forward to attack the moving pile, while the other held his gun and stared intently at the pile, trying to discern what to do. Draft took advantage of the situation.

He slid his blade out of it's holding and darted forward, through the remaining pile in front of him, and drove it into the heart of the nearest soldier. His body armor was tough, but the blade was agile and pierced through it. He dropped in an instant. The other man began firing at Draft and his own partner in a sheer act of desperation. Draft used the dead man as a shield and pushed forward toward the firing soldier. Luckily, the deceased man was larger than himself, so he had plenty of protection. When Draft closed in, he slid his arm out from behind his shield, and thrust forward, towards the gunman's head. A choking sound emitted and a thud sounded out. The other was dead.

Draft took a moment to scavenge the men, and he laid aside their guns, side pistols, a pouch on each of them, and finally a small package containing the components to start a fire, some gasoline, and a match.

Thinking fast, Draft shoved the two men into the spot of the pile he had came from, and covered the opening up. He took the gasoline and doused the pile in it, and he was careful about spreading it evenly, so the whole pile would go up.

After that, he stopped his quickened actions to observe his surroundings, and to enjoy the fresh air. His town was gone, but he was still alive. He didn't know where he was exactly, but he planned to find out.
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Draft

Posts : 4
Join date : 2012-03-16

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Re: Joining Application

Post  Gaza on Sat Mar 17, 2012 12:34 pm



Welcome
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Gaza
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Head admin/ Co-admin

Posts : 34
Join date : 2012-03-15
Age : 22

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