Post by johnandrews on Jul 3, 2011 2:21:07 GMT -5
<John Andrews>
Full Name- John Andrews
Nicknames- Gear
Gender- Male
Occupation- Ex-Marine/Mechanic
Age- 31 Years Old
Date of Birth- July 4
Sexual Orientation- Heterosexual
Location- The Bronx, NY
Faction- Civilian
Celebrity Claim- Drew Roy
What should we call you?- X2
Play anyone else?- Nope
Have You Read the Rules?- Zombies, man. They creep me out.
Personality-
<accessing personnel files>
<password required:********>
<password accepted: opening file Red 23X5>
Quiet. That would be the best way to sum up John's personality. He is extremely quiet and only responds to orders when a response is expected of him. His silence may be due to his rough lifestyle and the things he has seen. Hell, he has seen more than most of us veteran Marines. His silence is just unnatural. And it scares the rest of us shitless when he gives us his glare.
Anger. Another point why our boy scares us shitless. He is quick to anger and, even though it rarely leads to violence, has us scared of him. Some of the higher ups are even scared of him. He seems to have some protection about him that we don't know about because when one of us reports him, that person gets lookout duty while John gets to go on patrol and possibly get into a firefight or two when out on patrol. Nobody dares to disobey his orders when he is the highest ranking man on patrol.
Loyal. This is the one thing that our Marine in arms has more of than any of the other Jarheads in the group. His loyalty reaches above and beyond the call of duty and if someone saves him, he remembers the favor. Even if returning the favor means putting his ass through the wringer and usually multiple bursts of 9mm automatic fire from the ragheads AKs. He will do almost anything and endure anything to repay his debt.
<file closed>
<virus detected>
<countering virus: failed>
<file corrupted>
<shutting down>
Likes-
- Helping survivors
- Being able to rest
- Not Dying
Dislikes-
- Being ordered around by someone who doesn't know what they are doing
- People dying on his watch
- Fighting groups of survivors
Strengths-
- High Endurance
- Stable Hands
- High Strength
Weaknesses-
- Low Agility
- Low-Medium Speed
- Medium Balance
Skills-
- Sharpshooter with any kind of rifle (semi-auto or bolt action)
- Good in Hand-to-Hand combat
- Intermediate knowledge of computer hacking
Flaws-
- Missing part of left middle finger from a stray bullet in the war
- Sulfa Allergy
- Tendency to sleep like a rock
Hair- Black hair styled into a flat top.
Eye Color- Brown
Race- Caucasian
Physique- Athletic
Height- 6'0"
Weight- 180
Birthplace- The Bronx, NY
Mother- Elizabeth Andrews-death at birth
Father- Lucas Andrews-Navy SEAL-current location unknown
Siblings- None
Other- None
History-
<accessing personnel files>
<password required:********>
<password accepted: opening file Green 93X7>
John Andrews was born to Lucas and Elizabeth in The Bronx. It was July 4th, thirty-one years ago that he was born only a few minutes after this country took it's first steps towards freedom from British rule. But his birth wasn't without consequence. When one life was entered into this world, another life left it. His mother, Elizabeth Andrews, died giving birth to him. And so, John Andrews took his first life without even knowing it, leaving the care of John up to his father who was a still active SEAL in the Navy.
He did much moving with his father who placed him into the care of the base's child care. That was up until he disappeared off the grid. But that was to be many more years into the future when he turned sixteen. He kept believing that his father would come back, never leaving his son to fend for himself. Three years passed and he began to have his doubts. Where he used to be easy to approach and sociable, he was now quiet and would usually lash out in frustration and anger. This was dulled at the age of twenty when he went through Marine Corps bootcamp, surviving in the top five of his class.
Bootcamp helped him so that he wouldn't lash out, but he remained quiet unless requested by a superior officer to speak his mind. He learned about honor and loyalty and helped his friends out of numerous scrapes. The bootcamp showed him his abilities to shoot a gun at long range with the semi auto rifles. He was told to apply for sniper school and promptly applied. It was tough, but he got through it. When he was given the rifle, it was a guarantee that eight of the ten shots would be a kill shot. He graduated within the top three and was then sent on active duty for four years, starting when he was twenty-five.
Over the time of active duty, he became a mechanic which landed him the nickname "Gear". John was one of the best men that I have ever commanded and he never fell short of his duty. He went above and beyond to save friends and defeat the enemy. He received a purple heart after getting his left middle finger almost blown off by a bullet that went astray. He was a candidate for the Medal of Honor, but was found storing it in a small box that he had in his pack that was slim enough to fit.
When his time was up, he was twenty-nine and looking for a job. He returned to The Bronx and sought out a job having to do with mechanics. He found a well paying auto shop that would have him fix the vehicles that were damaged in an accident. He worked there and used the military money to purchase two guns for his personal use. A WWII M-1 Tanker that held a stripper clip of eight 30.-.06 rounds and a Beretta 92 Custom that holds a magazine of 15 .40 caliber slugs.
When the infestation began, he was getting ready to go to a squad that was the anniversary for the creation of the squad. It was themed with the theme of resistance. He wore a couple articles of clothing that he had seen modern tv shows portray resistance fighters in. He took his M-1 Tanker and Beretta both unloaded with clips for each loaded with live rounds stuck in a few of his pockets. It wasn't too far from his current home so he walked. That was when he saw his first infected. It tried to bite him and since it was cumbersome and clumsy, was easy to dispatch. He is currently holing up in the auto shop where he works, sleeping in the cars that are on the high jacks to avoid the bite of the infected.
<file closed>
<virus detected>
<countering virus: failed>
<file corrupted>
<shutting down>
Anything else?- None
Sample RP-
The deserted military complex within The Bronx hummed with energy as the circuit breakers were turned on. Some lights flashed on in the upper floor windows as the electricity returned slowly to the building. A silhouette of a man passed one of the windows as the man entered the room that held the military server. He punched in a quick code and, hearing the electrical buzz of the door being unlocked, entered the server room.
He closed the door behind him with a barely audible click and walked to the monitor of the server computer. He set down his M-1 Tanker next to him and got to work, typing out simple strings of code that would get him into the server faster. The password prompt was brought up and he typed in the password, accessing the data within seconds. He clicked the tab for personnel files and found his folder. He printed it out and then planted one of the simplest viruses on the computer. He opened his email and clicked on an email he sent to himself. The computer instantly became affected as a skull popped up on screen and began laughing as message boxes popped up all over the place.
He watched as the RAM Memory was erased and the computer crashed. He had the only hard copy of his profile and his platoon had just been wiped out of the archives. He didn't want any of them getting involved since he was the only one from York and the ties of brotherhood were strong. Now, there would be no way to contact them and get them back together. He would go this one alone and hold onto his identity if he ever felt like he was going insane.
John took one more look at the computer and picked up the M-1 Tanker he had recently gotten work done on. He slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the building and onto the streets where he would fight the zombies that had started to pop up everywhere. As he turned a corner, he listened and heard the steady moaning of the infected and looked around at the different porch coverings and awnings that were in front of the small shops. John chose one and climbed onto a wooden patio cover that had a sign that stated "Thrift Shop" in big letters and lay down on his stomach. He moved the rifle up front and to the right of him so he could snipe if needed. He set his watch timer for a half hour and went to sleep where he lay.