*CHARACTER 1Name: Regina PeircenAge:38Looks: Peircen stands at 5' 8" with an athletic stature. Melanistic fur with black cube-like jaguar markings against a dark charcoal base; a black dreaded mane of hair that falls just below the shoulder blade. Her tired eyes a washed out rust color. Her tail resembled that of a bobcat's, docked at just less than two inches. Docking being a popular practice amongst the hospital's inhabitants, which shows a pledge of full allegiance to the St. Jude state and her administrators. Peircen wears a worn out dark brown leather belt over a charcoal grey double-breasted, wool, mid-thigh length pea coat with a black collared undershirt. The belt is coupled with a matching right-sided brown leather pistol holster, sporting a .357 snub-nose revolver, also equipped with a scoped CZ 550 FS .30-06 w/10rd buttstock shell holder, threw over the shoulder with a leather 2-point sling. She also carries a worn brown leather book bag at her left side with the strap slung over her right shoulder and a pair of binoculars draped around her neck. Additionally, she wears snug fitting black jeans that are tucked into black lace-up combat boots.Species: Melanistic JaguarHistory: Peircen was employed by Englewood Clinic as a pediatric nurse's aide prior to the apocalypse. She lived a solitary life in a small downtown flat, driving a seven year old Camery that smelt of smoke and cheap coffee. Hectic, mundane and weary, she could have never predicted that life as she knew it would soon end. As the end of the world commenced, the hospital became a chaotic sight, collapsing within a few days after the public onslaught. Later it would rise from the ashes with a hand full of surviving medical personnel at the helm, included Peircen.*CHARACTER 2Name: Kurt SchultzeAge: 33Looks: Kurt is a 6' 2" stalky mesomorph. His fascia is almost entirely black, with a black goatee that's braded into a thirteen inch strand with a red glass bead at the very end. He wears his black hair in an unkept mohawk, the rest of his head consisting of dark shades of brown, his eyes a soft shade of copper. Kurt's tail, like Peircen's, is also docked just under two inches, his long black tail fur making it appear almost twice as long. His loadout consists of many German surplus articles (common dress of St. Jude inhabitants), including his German flecktarn field shirt (rolled up sleeves) and pants; coupled with black lace-up military boots, a pair of black skateboard-style kneepads, an olive drab full molle vest with ammo pouches, radio pocket, canteen bag and butt pack. Kurt carries an semi-auto AK-47 with traditional stained wooden grips and stock, seventy five round drum magazine, and a custom wire construction mounted over the ejection port with a black trouser sock pulled over it to catch expelled cartridges; the weapon is suspended at his right side by a black nylon 2-point sling that's slung over his left shoulder.Species: German ShepherdHistory: Kurt was part of a road crew as a TIG welder, working for a Midwestern fabrication company for six years prior to the downfall. Regardless of constantly being on the road for work, he always made time to drink and party hard; finding his element in a crowd of lively party-goers. He was charismatic, sarcastic, upbeat and a little bit crazy. A mile southwest of St. Jude Hospital and Englewood Clinic is a large pharmaceutical plant, Ventura Laboratories, where Kurt was doing fabrication work as the apocalypse dawned. He found refuge in the plant fallowing the aftermath; during the rise of St. Jude, Ventura was stormed and brought under the hospital's influence, later becoming a St. Jude territory. Kurt's eccentric character, just like the world around him, was no more. Today he is calm, collective, and stoic, often serving as Peircen's Jiminy Cricket.*CHARACTER 3Name: Mercedes Spinelli; Peircen refers to her almost exclusively as "Fritz," likely due to Spinelli's rookie standing amongst the trio. Age: 25Looks: Spinelli stands at 5' 10"; she has a slender, athletic and somewhat boyish figure. Her ears are cropped, standing tall and bold with the addition of a docked tail, all breed related modifications done at a young age. Her fur is a traditional black and rusty tan with straight, jet black hair that's cut just an inch bellow the jaw line (bob hairstyle, split at the right.) Her loadout, like Kurt's, consists of some German surplus, including a flecktarn parka and pants. Additionally, she wears a black skateboard-style knee pad on the right knee, a black 8-point patrol cap with the Englewood Clinic logo lapel pin clasped to the face (Here's an icon I threw together real quick of the clinic entwined snake logo: http://i296.photobucket.com/albums/mm173/eerytheory/Public%20Album/11721839_10204795974049086_1095409627_n_zpsto3ae3b7.jpg ignore the typo ;P Research* ), and an olive drab minimalistic mini chest rig with 3 ammo pouches (enough to squeeze in six 30rd AR-15 mags) and a radio pouch; just below the chest rig she wears a German pistol belt around the waist with a canteen bag and small utility pouch fixed off to the left side. Slung over her shoulder with a black nylon 2-point sling is a scoped semi-auto, mid-length AR-15 w/collapsible stock and quad rail handguard. The dust cover is replaced by a custom wire construction with a black trouser sock pulled over it to catch expelled cartridges.Species: European Doberman PinscherHistory: Mercedes was born and lived most of her life in Seattle, Washington. Two years prior to the downfall of society, she moved to South Florida where she worked as a body piercer at a small tattoo shop with her boyfriend and his business partner in North Miami. During a trip up to Washington to spend two weeks with her family, Spinelli's flight was grounded at a connecting flight between Fort Lauderdale and Seattle for unknown reasons; little did she know the world around her was falling into chaotic anarchy, stuck hundreds of miles away from her family and home in South Florida. Spinelli, along with a handful of travelers, held up in the terminal and road out the apocalyptic blitz, which left over half the airport in ruin. The survivors failed in their attempt to unify and organize, most of them leaving in small segregated groups in search for new refuge. Spinelli left with a group of five other survivors, which later joined the ranks of the growing St. Jude colony.*OTHEREnglewood Clinic: The Englewood Clinic building is connected to St. Jude hospital building, but unlike the hospital, it is mostly in ruin. The Englewood Research Center to the north is the only part of the clinic left mostly intact, and is connected to the clinic main building via skywalk. Which, regardless of the poor condition of the main clinic building, is still accessible from the hospital.The Triad: Peircen, Kurt and Spinelli are a small group which is part of the hospital's north division. Each division consists of two groups of three or less; the hospital employing 3 divisions total: the North, South, and West divisions. Each division has a designated outpost where salvage, trade and sovereignty defense operations are based out of. Out of all the divisions, the north is the only one considered to be almost completely autonomous. The north division is based in the fortified old town hall building located between the hospital and fire station, simply referred to as the "outpost" or "clock tower." The clock tower has generally healthy trade relations with the fire station, sometimes to the point where small arms are traded back and forth like Pokémon cards. Regardless of trade, the fire station still remains the outpost's most threatening adversary.
Post Merge: July 26, 2015, 10:02:56 PM
Peircen kneeled behind the frame of a shattered balcony sliding door from the second floor of a three story home. Drawing her bolt action rifle to look down the scope, idly scanning the calm streets of the wealthy gated community. A gust of chilly wind whipping up a vortex of loose dirt in the street, tossing the ragged soft top of the wrecked Audi parked just across the street. She momentarily lowered the rifle to look out to the east where there seemed to be a storm front moving through, a dark moody sky flickered against the torn skyline of the city. You could see most of downtown from here, a hill crescent that cupped the north western side of the city, a location the group referred to as 'snob hill.'
Peircen could have spent hours viewing the scenery, basking in the approaching overcast, but it was about time to head back. She planted the butt of her rifle on the ground, glass shards crackling under the butt as she used the rifle to help herself to her feet. She'd sling the rifle over her shoulder as she headed to the staircase; knocking on the wall, she'd yell "Moving out!" as she descended. She met Kurt at the bottom with Spinelli shadowing him, who was being used as a mule, struggling to carry a plastic tote of various loot.
"Tools, kitchen utensils, odds and ends. The usual." Kurt reported as he fallowed Peircen outside. Peircen continued towards the truck parked across the street, muttering "If this all comes down to throwing spoons at each other, this city is ours." The jaguar then crawled into the driver's side of white, roughed up '92 Toyota Tacoma, that was fixed with dirt tires, a large custom fitted front brush guard with a winch and outdoor megaphone mount, a roll bar in the bed with a spot light mounted on the right side, and a simple 1'x1' four leaf clover painted on the right rear quarter of the bed in flat green.
Kurt jumped into the passenger's side as Peircen started to let off the clutch, Spinelli jumping into the bed just as the truck started to roll, pulling up the tail gate before taking a seat behind the cab. In no hurry, Peircen casually brought the truck up to speed, weaving their way through the cluttered streets toward downtown. They'd be close enough now to hear the faint sound of gunfire coming from the hospital, but the rumble of the approaching storm in the east masked the skirmish.
No more than 20 minutes after their departure from snob hill, they were cruising a large downtown avenue, circling around on their way back to the outpost. The entire duration of the trip back had so far been completely silent other than the Toyota's tame grumble; today's salvage run was generally unsuccessful, there was nothing to discuss. Not until a vehicle less than a quarter mile up blew through an intersection. At the speed the vehicle was going, there would be no way they'd catch up to it, but Peircen took pursuit regardless, the little truck roaring forward as she put the pedal down.
Spinelli clung to the roll bar as they came to the intersection, the rear axle hopped and wobbled as the rubber squawked across the concrete, throwing the rear end into a sloppy drift as they took a hard left. To their surprise, the vehicle was in sight a little over a quarter mile down. Not only was it in sight, but it appeared to be stopped in the middle of the street. Spinelli stumbled over the spilt contents of a tote as she made it to her feet, peering over the cab as they closed in.
Both Spinelli and Kurt would draw their weapons as they observed two individuals exit the vehicle, Peircen pressing into the breaks as the fur along the back of her neck stood slightly, making the assumption that the two were taking defensive positions. The truck squawked to an abrupt halt 250 feet out from the other vehicle. Both doors flung open, Peircen and Kurt stepping out almost simultaneously, taking cover behind the truck's paper thin doors as they drew their rifles, Spinelli still peering over the cab with her rifle resting on the roll bar. Peircen looked down the scope of her rifle, resting it on the door as she held up a hand and yelled to the others "Hold your fire!" Noticing that the familiar car ahead was occupied, and likely a patrol from the fire station that strayed a little too far out.
In the fallowing moments they waited anxiously, hoping the vehicle would flee so they could execute a successful interception without any bloodshed.
Topic: Surviving the Apocalypse! (Closed) (Read 14618 times)