Wicked Zombies


Alright, here you will design your character. Feel free to use images, or descriptions for people to understand what your character will look like. Below are the character sheets you will be using.


±Who I Am±


±I Am Immortal±


±Have I Gotten Taller±


±Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat±


±My Eyes See The Future±

(Eye Color)

±I Am Samson±

(Hair Color, Length and Style)

±The Jack of All Trades±

(Things You Specialize in)

±I Am Who I Am±


±That's Not Mine±

(List Out Your Gear)

±People Think They Know Me±

(Not Required, But A Description Of What You Look Like)

(Or a Picture)

±No Place Like Home±

(Where You Plan on Starting *Not Required*)

±I've Seen Hell±

(Not Required, but where you were when the outbreak began)


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James Goodwin



12st 13lb


Brown hair, short and tattered (Rough fighting)

Weaponry and vehicles. 

A Royal Marine sent to America by the British to assist the people there in purging the infection. 

SA80 A2 (5.56mm) with a CWS sight fixed. Sidearm is a 9mm Browning L9A1. Wide range of weaponry available at British Army outpost. 

When the outbreak began I was in the UK fighting the infection there. After everyone was evacuated to Northern Ireland, the British army could finally focus on retaking England, and after two years of fierce fighting, England was declared infection free. This didnt mean that civilians were allowed back to the mainland. England became a large military base, where evacuees from the rest of Europe were sent to be quarantined. England then focused it's efforts on taking back the rest of the world from the infection, starting with America first. I was flown over in the first batch of troops sent there, but after 2 years, America was a very different place.

±Who I Am±

Dominic Crowely

±I Am Immortal±


±Have I Gotten Taller±

6'8'' Feet /2.032 Meters

±Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat±


±My Eyes See The Future±

Dark Brown

±I Am Samson±

Black hair, very short so its unable to be grasped

±The Jack of All Trades±

Weaponry, generally the bigger things such as light machine guns,

explosives, larger caliber assault rifles and what not. 

Also specializes in hand to hand combat, mild parkour even though his

body size limits the effective ability of this he is able to scale obstacles with

perfect ease. Other things include operating different kinds of vehicles,

machinery and effective use of objects deemed useless to forge something of more use.

His size and ability to use his body to its full extent allows him to take care of

anything that is blocking his way, from things like barricades to enemies.

±I Am Who I Am±

Working through various trades, Dom has become more of someone who is able to

make problems disappear for the right price. He grew up down south in Texas, living

a rather rough life that involved killing his share of people to protect his own.

He completed school from start to finish and immediately after joined the army,

spending his time over in the middle east before he reassigned over into the Marines after

serving four years with the U.S. Army. He continued his work for four more years before

being permitted into the U.S. Army Rangers though he only served with them for half

a year before the entire world went to shit thanks to a biochemical weapon going off before

it was ready, turning Asia into a shit fest before it even knew what was occuring, turning

almost everyone there into hosts that were dormant for a short time as the infection ravished their bodies.

He was sent to contain the infection as the CDC attempted to control the trade routes of Asia as well as any travel path ways, but it simply lead to more complications eventually ending up in the spread along Europe, Africa and South and North America due to Asia's connections with most all countries. When the outlook turned completely to shit America pulled back all of it's troops, including him, and took them back to America to cover their own asses. 

He spent months going through every city, being forced to relocate every week, some times and

most often, every couple of days. The cities were fire bombed, cleaned out and even then it was simply

to late to try and contain it, even rural areas being destroyed by it.

The Military took over and instead of trying to contain everything pulled itself back, evacuating as many towns as possible. Anyone that was a troop had two choices. Follow the military or get left behind to fend yourself with what gear they gave you. He followed the military, letting them escort him over towards the East and currently control two states, doing tiny skirmishes with raiders but ignoring the infected, sniping them from a distance to keep them from discovering their strong holds. He lived with them for a while before choosing to leave in the night, taking plenty of clips for the weapons he would carry: his M249, a P90, a .45 ACP Kimber Custom and grenades a plenty. He escaped through the night, running across what looked like Raiders, though after a bit of inspection it turned out they were more like an organized squad hiding out beside an old 70's van with psychedelic pictures of different things that really had no image. Crowded around a fire they would play guitar songs and chat, generally telling stories of the old world and jokes they knew. He tossed a rock out, drawing his M249 and gathered their attention. They were armed with cheap guns. 9mm pistols and one carrying a dual barrel shotgun. He raised one hand and showed he came in peace. That night he learned many things from them. They were called Stalkers, occupying military bases and farm steads or small towns in rural areas to supply themselves and give themselves a home or two. It was different from the life he knew at the base but after some thought he knew it would be better. They were expanding, not just holding their ground like the military. He agreed to join them, following down to the military base they occupied in that local area and has been a part of their brotherhood ever since.

±That's Not Mine±

A Barrett M82, a P90, a Kimber Custom and a MG4.

Carries a Black serrated edge knife, a flare gun, a black titanium steel mask similar to that in

Army of Two simply for both taste and bullet shield, a PLA survival military shovel, a canteen for water,

combat knife on his boot, dragon skin body army meant to repel larger calibers than general kevlar vests,

elbow and knee pads and a few other minor things.

±People Think They Know Me±

Large, muscular body type. He has his share of scars, sporting well over a hundred from his years in combat both in and out of the military. A distinctive feature is the tattoo on his neck, it being no larger than a dollar coin, showing a black spade with a tiny bar code inside of it. On his leg he has a U.S. Army Ranger tattoo. His face is normally covered by his mask, but it contains a strong jaw with a bit of rugged facial hair being a bit thicker than the general five o' clock shadow. He keeps his hair short, the longest it being is a half inch.

±I've Seen Hell±

See Bio.

Who I am.

Luc Infernus

I Am immortal.


Have I gotten taller.

Six foot Three inches

Does this dress make me look fat.

Two-Hundred-Ten Lbs.

My eyes see the future.

A cool silver blue

I am Samson

A raven black color. Buzz-cut. About two inches in length, a small mohawk around half an inch longer then the rest of his hair, making it stand out a bit.

The jack of all trades

Good with the sword. Guns. And improvising. (( Making common objects around a city, household, ect. Lethal. ))

I am who I am

Luc Infernus was a military captain. Great in his time until he began to suffer from the insanity that so much war and death brought to those that where trapped amoung it. No one really knew until one day he went beserk and began killing those around him the instant he was capable. Eventually, he got taken down by numbers, and locked up in the camp he was posted. There he was declared as insane. He spent years in the small cell. Nothing to do but walk, try to stay in the shape he had been in hopes that he would ultimitely excape, or better yet be let free. He denied the very thought that he would be put to death.

Thats not mine

After the infection broke out, an order was givin to release all that where held in the cells. It being deemed cruel to leave people, however insane or bad, alone in them. He took advantage of this, and raided the armory in the facility. There he found a whole window. A duster. Plain back shirt. Black jeans. Leather boots. And two black KatanasHe took them. The Katanas where made of hard obsidian, diamond edged, and sharp.


Ive seen Hell

In bio

People think they know me.

Lean and well built after the exersizes he was able to do in his cell. His skin is a bit pale due to the time he had spent without sunlight. Looking a bit more chalky in comparison to the dark clothing he preferrs.


±Who I Am±
Kitty walker
±I Am Immortal±
±Have I Gotten Taller±
±Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat±
±My Eyes See The Future±
Silver blue
±I Am Samson±
A foot and a half of blonde hair with color accents
±The Jack of All Trades±
Cooking,cleaning, guns, swords. If it moves she can kill it. 
But only has brief periods when that happens, so mostly she's just a regular 18 year old girl.
±I Am Who I Am±
when the affliction hit, kitty was getting ready for her prom.

She had finally been asked out by brad, the love of her life.

When she was younger she was a perfect child. Perfect hair, perfect smile. Perfect stereotype.

But she got into a fight when she was 13...and it all changed

After landing Ashley in the hospital with a concussion and a broken hand, kitty was brought to juvy.

The horrors of what she went through haunt her every night. 
Try as she might. By the time she got out she was traumatized for life.
The guards and inmates alike were dirty, filthy, evil.
And the warden gave half a shit.

So when she got home, she was nearly insane, lapseing into multiple personalitys. Becomeing a different person all together, even calling herself by another name.

But that only happens when the stress becomes too much.

Otherwise she's herself, or shes detached and docile.

The prom was supposed to be the best night ever...

She was wrong.

Her mother came into the room while kitty was trimming her hair with a pair of shears. Her mother was blocked from view in the mirror.

" mom, can you get me some moose please?"

And it happened.

Kitty finally saw her mother... She shouldn't have been alive..her right arm was missing, and most of her torso was missing.

Screaming only made mom-beast pounce... Kitty did what she had to do.

Kitty stabbed the shears right into the eye socket of her mother. And then considering takeing her own life. But she didn't want to become like her mother...

And the stress became too much. And kitty became another person...

±That's Not Mine±
Nothing but a replica roman short sword

People think they know me

Basically no matter who she is at the time, she is dressed like a soldier, a little girl, or in all black.
±I've Seen Hell±
Springfield mass.(this is the main area where all of the RPG takes place.)


Are we going to kick this off again? I enjoyed it before.

We'll see. Most likely I'll have to make a new discussion for the RP so we don't have to deal with starting off on territory that won't sound like it used to.

Yeah that's probably best, although I do hope more people take part this time.

Alright, if you got any settings in mind send me a message or make a discussion on the group.


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