Post by Rhinn on Jun 13, 2017 12:07:18 GMT -5
Name: Travis James
Sex: Male
Age: 20
Height: 5 ft 9 in tall
Weight: 165 lbs
Appearance: Travis is of average height and slightly below average weight and has brown eyes. He isn’t skinny, fat, or muscular, but tone. His hands are scraped up from working on cars at the Vo-Tech and also at Robbie’s Rat Rods, a local shop owned by his uncle. His hair is brown and typically unkempt and his clothes, which consist of jeans, t-shirts and mechanic’s boots, typically have stains on them from working on cars. He also carries around a black military pack which hold his extra magazines, ammo, food, water, and clothes. He also carries his mechanic’s bag on a shoulder strap.
Personality: Travis isn’t lazy, though his parents, if they are still alive, would tell you differently. He just never felt the urge to prove himself in high school. His love is cars… and girls, of course. He is smart, but also a bit sarcastic. He isn’t troubled, but his quick wit and lack of a filter has gotten him into trouble. He does care for others, just not one to take up noble half suicidal quests.
Occupation: Vo-tech School Student; mechanic’s assistant
Weapons: Ruger 10/22 Stainless with scope / Bowie Knife
Equipment: mechanics bag with tools, Crowbar, cell phone, black military pack, 3 cartons of cigarettes.
Vehicle: Crappy old Ford Truck
History: Travis grew up on the outskirts of Cleveland, OH, the typical middle child of a blue collar family. Older brother is a high school sports star and younger sister is a cheerleader and very pretty. Travis was more the nerd and video game person and his parents constantly harped on his “laziness”. He wasn’t lazy, just didn’t find much use for sports. His love was cars and he constantly spent time with his Uncle Robbie at his shop. Due to their remoteness as a small town, the outbreaks of 1998 and 2006 went completely unnoticed. He graduated in the bottom third of his class and with no real college aspirations, he joined the local vo-tech school, enrolling in mechanic’s classes. In the mornings, he would go to class and 4 days a week, he would work at a mechanic’s helper at his uncle’s shop.
With his money, he bought a “crappy old Ford truck” as his mom called it, with the intent of fixing it into a rat rod.
That never happened as the 2012 outbreak blew through his town in a matter of days. He is on the run with his truck and a rifle that was a gift from his birthday. He doesn’t know if any of his family is still alive.
Introduction: Travis pulled his truck over and turned it off. Not only did it save gas, but it also cut out the loud clanking noise that was coming from the back. At least he thought it would, but nope, the noise kept at it. Cautiously, he grabbed his rifle and crawled through the back window into the bed of the truck… he had learned the hard way to not just step out of the truck. One time his pant leg was grabbed. Luckily, he wasn’t bitten, but he did fill up his pant with several loads of crap from that.
Now, he typically exited the back and jumped clear of the bed. He landed with an oomph and the approached the rear axle of his truck. It was clear where the clanging sound was coming from as his tail pipe was shaking. He slowly got on his knees and poked around with his rifle until he found the problem… a zombie’s head was stuck between the axle and the tail pipe. It moaned and snarled at him. He sighed, and pulled the trigger at point blank range. Then he spent a few minutes pulling the head free and checking for damage. Luckily nothing was damaged.
He stood up and looked around, light a cigarette. He knew it was a nasty habit, but so many other things could kill you now that it really didn’t matter.
It was a quiet neighborhood that reminded Travis of his own. He decided to look around for a bit.