Post by tiphis on May 15, 2011 0:43:08 GMT -5
Nathan Grimm
Full Name- Nathan Charles Grimm
Nicknames- Grim, Reaper
Gender- male
Occupation- ex-Master Sergeant, Special Operations, black ops
Age- 29
Date of Birth- December 15th
Sexual Orientation- heterosexual
Location- The Bronx
Faction- Ex-military, Civilian
Celebrity Claim- Dwayne Johnson
What should we call you?- Tiphis
Play anyone else?- no
Have You Read the Rules?- Zombies, man. They creep me out.
Personality-
Nathan is a reclusive person. He likes to keep to himself and since he's suffered so many people he was closed to death, he's hard to connect with. He finds it easier not to feel anything for the other people. With connections, come complications.
But if you do happen to push past his barriers he's the most protective person you will ever know. Now he won't throw himself in front of a zombie if your about to get hit. But he'll hold them off for a bit while you run, before turning to pull back. He'll also make sure your feed and well before he gives himself anything.
Now as nice as all that is, Nathan has an anger issue and an extremely short fuse. He has quite a few pet peeves and they easily annoy him. When it burst its kinda like a volcano on steroids, or so Alex had once told him. But as long as you don't annoy him, he'll be fine... well as fine as a person can be with the walking dead everywhere.
Likes-
- Fighting
- Pudding
- Women
- Jazz
Dislikes-
- The color Yellow
- Rain
- Country music
- Prudes
Strengths-
- High Endurance
- Strong
- Objective Oriented
- Resourceful
Weaknesses-
- Arrogant
- Can't cook
- Demanding of others
- Nicotin
Skills-
- Combat Training
- Stealthy
- Farming
Flaws-
- Peanut Allergy
- Scars on his right arm from a bullet wound
- Easily Aggrivated
Hair- Bald
Eye Color- Blue
Race- Mexican
Physique- athletic, muscular
Height- 6'1"
Weight- 223lbs
Birthplace- Zion, Illinois
Mother- Natalie Hodge-Grimm [Deceased]
Father- Arthur Grimm [Deceased]
Siblings- None
Other- none
History-
Born on a small farm in Illinois is Nathan grew up doing manual labor pretty much all his life. He was raised on the belief that if you want something, you need to work for it until you get it and he's lived by that creed for his whole life. He attended Zion's highschool and played football since seventh grade being a offensive and defensive tackle.
Another sport he picked up with his friends was paintball. They each enjoyed it for their own reasons, but Nate loved it for the thrill of the battle, imagining he was in a warzone. Perhaps that was why when graduation hit he refused the offers of full rides and signed on to the marines at 18 years old.
It was there he received his training and rose through the ranks showing enough promise to be picked for special operations force leaving infantry duty behind. He was 20 at the time and it was after his first mission when he had returned for leave that he got the news that his mother and father had died in a car accident. He was left the house, all of the farm, and asset being their only son. It took him awhile, but he finally decided on selling it all and using the money to move somewhere else. As much as he loved the farm, it was a constant reminder that they were gone.
He had went back to service for a couple more years. Doing missions in Africa, Afghanistan, and a lot of other places. He became so involved in his work to push out the harsh reality of losing his parents. But when he was 26 he received a bullet wound through his arm and was kicked from active duty due to injury.
When he returned to the states he moved to New York looking to become a bouncer or something off the like. It was there an old friend, Alex Mata, from his squad called him up. He had a job lined up but needed another for it. Nathan, not being short on cash declined, with his arm how it was, he wasn't gonna be of any use. Needless to say a twenty-six year old man in new york with alot of money and not alot of sense outside a warzone, blew threw it quickly.
Between the women, guns, and cigarettes he was so addicted to, he had blown more then he could. It was then that he called up his old friend and asked if the offer was still good. He said yeah so Nate went to work with him as a hired gun. Code named Grimm.
It was during the first few days of the infection that he and Alex were holding up in a small restaurant in the Bronx. They had only a couple of weapons left and a large horde was pushing through the barricade. The two turned opened the back door to he alley and pushed out. Alex in front.
Once the door opened it was already to late as two of the zombies grabbed at him and tore him to the ground. His screams fill the air. After dispensing of the two zombie's he stared in horror at Alex's mutilated body. He didn't have the heart to put a bullet in his head.
So now he wanders, keeping to himself for the most part and just trying to survive.
Anything else?- Always has some type of weapon on him.
Sample RP-
He sat there pushed up against the wall of an apartment complex. He had made it about three miles from the restaurant. Three miles from Alex's mutilated body. Nathan bit his lip in frustration before hitting his fist against the wall. Pulling it back he looked down to see blood slowly leaking from his knuckles. He looked down and teared a piece of his t-shirt off before wrapping it tightly around his hand.
Standing he picked up the AK-47 by the muzzle and slung it over his shoulder before moving further into the alleyway. He'd head towards the warehouse and make see if he could find anything of use there. Being in the city wasn't safe right now. Not with how many of the infected there were.
How the hell did this even happen? After all he had seen, this was by far the worst. Kids being blown apart, mothers hanging from trees, and men blown apart. Just horrible sights he wouldn't wish on his closest enemies. But this, this took the cake. It was one thing to see a bodies guts hanging from its stomach, it was a whole other thing to watch it slowly walk towards you.
Clang!
His head instantly shot its glance towards the noise. "Ahh, Shit." he sighed with annoyance. From behind a dumpster a couple of the infected staggered toward him. He took the clip out and checked it. Five bullets. That was all he had left. He'd have to conserve them for later. For now he'd just have to make a run for it. After all, it was a great night for some cardio.