Post by Malady on Aug 27, 2009 23:46:08 GMT -5
Name : Marthe Roderick
Alias : Marthe
Status : Not completely immune, but is at least resilient.
Gender : Female
Age : 32
Race : Caucasian; German descent
Sexuality : Heterosexual
Marital Status : Single
Religion : Weak atheist
Hometown : Mars Hill, Maine
Current Residence : Somewhere in Georgia, USA, lived in an apartment in the city until the Infection hit, was mostly recently seen holding out in a boarded-up theatre complex.
Occupation : Nurse
Height : 5'4" ft.
Weight : 124 lbs.
Body Type : In most ways, it's not much special, just about average. However, it is at least somewhat toned from regularly exercising prior to the Infection- something she's grateful for now.
Skin : Fair, relatively pale.
Eyes : Blue.
Hair : Blonde, long, wavy; normally styled it with some degree of curls or a bun, but now most often leaves it in a (somewhat messy) bun or a ponytail.
Physical Description : Prior to the Infection, Marthe always took great care of and pride in her appearance; it was the only thing that ever concerned her. She was smart, made decent money, so little of that much mattered.
However, when you suddenly find yourself in the thick of...monstrosities, zombies, on an apocalyptic scale, you don't have much time to get gussied up, nor much of a reason unless you'd just like to die pretty, which wouldn't last long if you weren't immune, or if you found something particularly nasty suddenly tearing a hole into your abdomen. That wasn't a way she intended to go out, though, and now focuses more on practicality above all else. She wears her long, once soft hair in hastily done up-dos to keep it out of the way. She wears a pale green tank-top underneath a brown trench coat, with a white sweater tied around her hips, or occasionally her shoulders. She wears somewhat heavy boots which have served her well on more than one occasion, and a pair of worn khakis over her long legs, which have almost always given her an advantage on the run. In the way of holding supplies, she has a backpack just short of brimming with things that might save someone's life.
The zombie apocalypse might not have left her beautiful, but she at least intends to get out of it alive, no matter what the cost.
Voice : Usually seems fairly smooth, fluid. Has a lightly watered-down German accent, which really doesn't make itself completely evident with most of her speech. Tends to crack to some degree when she's distressed.
Personality : Most nurses are seen as being very supportive, caring, and motherly. Deep down, she is all of these things, but you wouldn't think so when meeting her in the street. She usually seems to border on cold and almost antisocial, but that's just because she lacks social skills. Becomes impatient rather quickly.
Likes : Above all else, Marthe likes it when things are calm. Of course, it's rare now, but there is still a time or two when there is a real sense of peace. She likes the feeling of being able to help someone with even something small, and rather enjoys it when the favour is returned.
Dislikes : Although she tries her best to be tolerant of just about anything, Marthe has her pet peeves. She can't stand to see adults cry, and gets rather frustrated with stupidity. Stupid plans get people hurt, even killed nowadays. She'd never liked them before, but now that they seem to wake up the zombies from their nap time, she despises and almost fears loud noises. Hates the feeling of being helpless or useless more than anything, though.
Fears : Becoming completely useless, becoming a vegetable one way or another, heights, being Infected.
Family : Somewhat wealthy, most live in or around her hometown in Maine, and more distant relatives live in Germany, as her parents were the first in a while of her family to leave Europe. However, she knows contacting them is almost completely impossible at this point, and doesn't worry her head much on checking up on them, or even so much as remembering their names unless she feels she has to.
History : ( Will come soon. )
Strengths : Being a nurse and serving for a relatively short while in a war against other humans as a medic, Marthe has quite the knowledge of the human body; what can make you feel better, what can practically cripple you. And even if something does hit a weak point for massive damage, she can probably patch you up if you're not already screwed, provided she has the right supplies. She's also very level-headed, which has probably kept someone alive a little longer somewhere along the way. Highly observant, fast runner- surely, she would make for a great addition to almost any team.
Weaknesses : Not exactly much of a "people person," and really doesn't have the best "people skills." Yes, as aforementioned, there is an almost motherly side to her that shows most when tending to an ill or injured person, but otherwise, she tends to come off as somewhat cold and standoffish, which can repel people. Additionally, the apocalypse has made her a bit paranoid, and because of this, some of her "plans" come off as...brutal. She doesn't intend for them to be, most of the time, it's just what she thinks would be best.
Weapons : A titanium baseball bat, and basically whatever else she can find. Not exactly gun-smart and makes remarks on this from time to time, but can be taught with some patience.
Extra Information :
Sample Post : It was never quiet. Why was it now? Not a bird, not a plane, not a shout--nothing. Her hold on the baseball bat's grip tightened defensively, and she frowned deeply when no one else seemed to take note. "What are you all doing?" she murmured to them, her voice almost rife with discontempt for their lack of attention in such critical times. "Can't you feel it? Something is going to happen!"
"Chill out, lady," a particularly arrogant boy she supposed to be from somewhere around New York City piped up as he fiddled with a clearly broken phone.
"Whaddya hope to do with that, son? Call mommy and have her pick you up?" another survivor in their group, an old man, gruffly barked from his corner, "She's probably a zombie by now!"
"Hey, you watch it, you old-"
"Enough!" she hissed, not wanting such a petty little fight to get much further, "You're missing the point--all of you! It's too quiet, it's never this quiet, there's no reason it should be now."
The old man laughed dryly, stopping to cough for a moment mid-cackle, "Maybe if we're lucky, they'll be chasing after some poor soul on the other side of the city!"
"If they are, then why are we sittin' around here doin' nothing?"
"Because it's too quiet."
"Would you come off of that?!"
"Would you listen to me, for once?!" she quickly shot back, standing up now, "all we ever do is take your plans, and they've had three of the group injured or killed, and we've been stuck in here for over a week! However, if something really is coming, then maybe that's the only good part of all of your ideas. Or maybe we'll just get wiped out, I can't tell anymore." Attempting not to let her voice go far beyond a whisper, she sighed to herself and took a seat on one of the blood-stained wooden stairs, staring out through a tiny opening in the boards over a window.
She heard a sigh from the other side of the room. "Anything out there, lady?" She simply nodded.
"Isn't there always?"
( Will be finished tomorrow. )
Alias : Marthe
Status : Not completely immune, but is at least resilient.
Gender : Female
Age : 32
Race : Caucasian; German descent
Sexuality : Heterosexual
Marital Status : Single
Religion : Weak atheist
Hometown : Mars Hill, Maine
Current Residence : Somewhere in Georgia, USA, lived in an apartment in the city until the Infection hit, was mostly recently seen holding out in a boarded-up theatre complex.
Occupation : Nurse
Height : 5'4" ft.
Weight : 124 lbs.
Body Type : In most ways, it's not much special, just about average. However, it is at least somewhat toned from regularly exercising prior to the Infection- something she's grateful for now.
Skin : Fair, relatively pale.
Eyes : Blue.
Hair : Blonde, long, wavy; normally styled it with some degree of curls or a bun, but now most often leaves it in a (somewhat messy) bun or a ponytail.
Physical Description : Prior to the Infection, Marthe always took great care of and pride in her appearance; it was the only thing that ever concerned her. She was smart, made decent money, so little of that much mattered.
However, when you suddenly find yourself in the thick of...monstrosities, zombies, on an apocalyptic scale, you don't have much time to get gussied up, nor much of a reason unless you'd just like to die pretty, which wouldn't last long if you weren't immune, or if you found something particularly nasty suddenly tearing a hole into your abdomen. That wasn't a way she intended to go out, though, and now focuses more on practicality above all else. She wears her long, once soft hair in hastily done up-dos to keep it out of the way. She wears a pale green tank-top underneath a brown trench coat, with a white sweater tied around her hips, or occasionally her shoulders. She wears somewhat heavy boots which have served her well on more than one occasion, and a pair of worn khakis over her long legs, which have almost always given her an advantage on the run. In the way of holding supplies, she has a backpack just short of brimming with things that might save someone's life.
The zombie apocalypse might not have left her beautiful, but she at least intends to get out of it alive, no matter what the cost.
Voice : Usually seems fairly smooth, fluid. Has a lightly watered-down German accent, which really doesn't make itself completely evident with most of her speech. Tends to crack to some degree when she's distressed.
Personality : Most nurses are seen as being very supportive, caring, and motherly. Deep down, she is all of these things, but you wouldn't think so when meeting her in the street. She usually seems to border on cold and almost antisocial, but that's just because she lacks social skills. Becomes impatient rather quickly.
Likes : Above all else, Marthe likes it when things are calm. Of course, it's rare now, but there is still a time or two when there is a real sense of peace. She likes the feeling of being able to help someone with even something small, and rather enjoys it when the favour is returned.
Dislikes : Although she tries her best to be tolerant of just about anything, Marthe has her pet peeves. She can't stand to see adults cry, and gets rather frustrated with stupidity. Stupid plans get people hurt, even killed nowadays. She'd never liked them before, but now that they seem to wake up the zombies from their nap time, she despises and almost fears loud noises. Hates the feeling of being helpless or useless more than anything, though.
Fears : Becoming completely useless, becoming a vegetable one way or another, heights, being Infected.
Family : Somewhat wealthy, most live in or around her hometown in Maine, and more distant relatives live in Germany, as her parents were the first in a while of her family to leave Europe. However, she knows contacting them is almost completely impossible at this point, and doesn't worry her head much on checking up on them, or even so much as remembering their names unless she feels she has to.
History : ( Will come soon. )
Strengths : Being a nurse and serving for a relatively short while in a war against other humans as a medic, Marthe has quite the knowledge of the human body; what can make you feel better, what can practically cripple you. And even if something does hit a weak point for massive damage, she can probably patch you up if you're not already screwed, provided she has the right supplies. She's also very level-headed, which has probably kept someone alive a little longer somewhere along the way. Highly observant, fast runner- surely, she would make for a great addition to almost any team.
Weaknesses : Not exactly much of a "people person," and really doesn't have the best "people skills." Yes, as aforementioned, there is an almost motherly side to her that shows most when tending to an ill or injured person, but otherwise, she tends to come off as somewhat cold and standoffish, which can repel people. Additionally, the apocalypse has made her a bit paranoid, and because of this, some of her "plans" come off as...brutal. She doesn't intend for them to be, most of the time, it's just what she thinks would be best.
Weapons : A titanium baseball bat, and basically whatever else she can find. Not exactly gun-smart and makes remarks on this from time to time, but can be taught with some patience.
Extra Information :
- English is her second language. She speaks it fairly well, though.
Sample Post : It was never quiet. Why was it now? Not a bird, not a plane, not a shout--nothing. Her hold on the baseball bat's grip tightened defensively, and she frowned deeply when no one else seemed to take note. "What are you all doing?" she murmured to them, her voice almost rife with discontempt for their lack of attention in such critical times. "Can't you feel it? Something is going to happen!"
"Chill out, lady," a particularly arrogant boy she supposed to be from somewhere around New York City piped up as he fiddled with a clearly broken phone.
"Whaddya hope to do with that, son? Call mommy and have her pick you up?" another survivor in their group, an old man, gruffly barked from his corner, "She's probably a zombie by now!"
"Hey, you watch it, you old-"
"Enough!" she hissed, not wanting such a petty little fight to get much further, "You're missing the point--all of you! It's too quiet, it's never this quiet, there's no reason it should be now."
The old man laughed dryly, stopping to cough for a moment mid-cackle, "Maybe if we're lucky, they'll be chasing after some poor soul on the other side of the city!"
"If they are, then why are we sittin' around here doin' nothing?"
"Because it's too quiet."
"Would you come off of that?!"
"Would you listen to me, for once?!" she quickly shot back, standing up now, "all we ever do is take your plans, and they've had three of the group injured or killed, and we've been stuck in here for over a week! However, if something really is coming, then maybe that's the only good part of all of your ideas. Or maybe we'll just get wiped out, I can't tell anymore." Attempting not to let her voice go far beyond a whisper, she sighed to herself and took a seat on one of the blood-stained wooden stairs, staring out through a tiny opening in the boards over a window.
She heard a sigh from the other side of the room. "Anything out there, lady?" She simply nodded.
"Isn't there always?"
( Will be finished tomorrow. )