Post by Georgia Winchester on Oct 7, 2013 4:26:12 GMT
Georgie
Name: Georgia Allison Winchester
Alias: Georgie, or Winchester {Open to other given nicknames}
Age: 45
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Faction: Survivor
Role: Smuggler / Sniper
Location: Currently, Georgia isn't "living" anywhere, because she is constantly traveling and smuggling for cash. But right now, she can be found in the wilderness outside of Boston.
Physical Description:
Georgia is a woman that you can see the years through the faded scars across her body, and the worn out skin that pads her finger-tips. Her sky blue eyes are normally as cold as the winter in Alaska, trying to snatch the breath out of her enemies and bring the fear to the surface. Her eyes shield the truth in her emotions, like iron-bolted safes, keeping a safe barrier between her torn up heart, and the mask she allows everyone to see.
It's rare to see her with a smile that doesn't drip with a dangerous acidic dose of sarcasm, and with the freedom of a child. Of course, the way that she was built, thin arms, rimmed only with tightly wound muscles, was due to the years in the apocalyptic world that is now considered the norm of life. Her skin has a warm caramel glaze from the days she spends sitting out under the sun, waiting to fill out the order of a high-paying official with the liquid black steel of her most favored sniper rifle.
People that look at Georgia, more often than not, know who she is, or better yet, to naturally not pick a fight with her. She carries a thousand ugly, body altering scars that map a timeline across her dark skin. A history of gun wound, stabs from machetes, and the blood curdling screams while brands were brandished over her skin. The most particular and often, first seen, scar is the one that tears out a void across her left eye; it is an inch wide in the center, and shrinks towards the top of her left temple, and sinks to a thinner width towards the lower half of her jaw. the scarred skin is puckered, but the wound was one caused by her older brother, which will be further explained in her history.
Personality:
Most don't see it, what, under Georgia's thick layer of sun glazed skin, that she is an honest woman. But let's start with the basics. Georgia Winchester can easily be described in three words or less, but it will never show you who she truly is, as a person. because Georgia is a mixture of a thousand different describing adjectives, all swirling in a boiling kettle of emotions and countless situations. She will react a thousand different ways, but more often than not, she'll do what benefits her, unless she actually has a team beside her.
Warrior:
Georgia is an absolute warrior, and she has been such since day one. As a young girl, she learned that protecting your comrades and your friends was the most import value, and it needed to be her highest moral. She will never leave a man behind, not to suffer, if they'd been infected, and he asked her to shoot him, then she would do that honor. She would make sure that no one needed to be in pain more that needed. But if a friend had a broken leg, then she would carry them to the nearest town, or until she collapsed from total exhaust, and died along side them. Her bravery exploded through to the surface as soon as she was attacked by her older brother, and watched her love die right before her eyes. She has never shown fear in a world of dead-skinned freaks, and armed governments. Georgia has never stood down, and has always stood up for what she believed was right, no matter the strict consequences, because she was taught from a young age, that you needed to fight for what you believed in.
Care-Taker:
Although she has a tough outer-shell, Georgia has a heart of gold underneath. She knows how to smile warmly, but only when she's looking into the eyes of the a young child, the frame of pure innocence and fear. She feels the insane desire to care for them, for everyone, and that only proves as a curse on her part. Caring for people in this world only got someone killed, but Georgia still does it, even if it may seem like she's rather you were dead. She's always coming off as a hard-ass, ready to leave your sorry ass in the dirt if given the chance, but she's the complete opposite, for sure. Only a handful of people know that though.
Fake:
Honestly, Georgia is a lie in the way she let's others see her. On first impressions, she's cruel, unkind, and cold as liquid nitrogen. She is relentless, and never gives anyone, even teenagers, any sort of slack, so every person thinks the worse of her. Anyone that knows her face, knows that she is a person not to be messed with. And if her scars and scary look isn't enough to throw anyone into a blank-faced stupor, then her harsh gravel laden voice would surely shock them into silence.
Alignment:
She is a true neutral.
Likes:
Cleaning her gun.
Napping.
Praying.
Old Jazz and country music.
Singing.
Meat.
Potatoes.
Iced Tea.
Pepsi.
Dogs.
Stars.
Night-time.
Sunsets.
Alcohol, specifically Scotch and Vodka.
Occasional cigar.
Music.
Young children.
Dislikes:
Killing, but she hides it extremely well.
Can't swim.
Infected.
Cats.
Cows.
Vegetables {Greens}.
Rock music.
Teenagers.
Strengths:
-She never misses her mark, at least, that's what her friends say- Marksman
- She is incredibly strong in the idea of heavy-lifting
- She can fix up a wound and nurse it until she can find a proper medic.
Weaknesses:
Doesn't work well with others.
She's quick to anger.
Childishly picky eater.
Harsh.
History and Background:
Georgia was a normal child, and the cataclysmic fall of this earth started when she was in her early twenties. In those times, she had lived a normal life an worked hard when she went to soccer games in high-school, and fell in love with her high-school prince. John Carson.
Five wonderful years passed since their senior year and left them to enter the same college out of pure coincidence. Georgia studying in medical arts and John taking the time to study in the ways of a simple grade-school teacher. Each of them had their dreams, and their whole lives ahead of each-other, dreams of creating a huge family with eight children at least so they could play with their own sports teams. But the day that was supposed to determined the rest of their lives, was also the day that they fell apart.
Georgia could remember every last second of that day, their wedding day. She was standing in her room, wiping tears from her eyes as she struggled into her deceased mothers wedding dress. just as she reached around to zip the back up, her older brother, Maxwell, stepped into the room, smiling down at her from his impressive height of six feet. "Just like mom." He said sweetly, zipping the back up for her. "I can't believe I'm losing you today. who can I pick on after this?"
She could remember hugging Maxwell tightly, and sobbing into his shoulder about their deceased parents when screams were flung about from the lower levels of the building. She stiffened up, and just as she asked softly,"M-Max?" She pushed into her brother, then felt him whisper into her hair,"Georgie, stay here, alright? I'm going to check it out. Don't. Move." But, right before he left, he kissed her forehead, and draped his dog-tags over her head on their magnificent silver chain. "I'll be right back." He whispered before rushing out the door.
The rest of that day was painful. Georgia can hardly draw upon the worst of the memories. But she remembers sneaking out of the room against her word. Creeping downstairs only to be faced with the suffering form of her infected husband, who snarled and tried to kill her without another question. So much for being with one another forever. Georgia fended on her own, and met her brother on the outside of the church. He was panting, struggling for air, and as she approached him carefully, she wondered what may have happened. "M-Max?" She asked through a tear choked voice. Without any warning whatsoever, her older brother spun around with a machete, slashing at her wildly. Georgia screamed and lifted her arms, letting the liquid steel bite her skin, letting blood stain the old wedding dress. then, without warning, and when her arms felt, the machete came down, gashing her flawless, freckled face. It gashed open her eye, and left Georgia screaming in pain as she scrambled backwards. Just as she did so, gunshots filled the air and a man, a soldier moved towards her swiftly, missing the fact that her brother was infected, and had touched her open scar with his infected hand. Georgia was infected.
Time passed and soon enough, that girly girl, dreaming of her wedding day had never dreamed of love again, not after hers had so easily turned on her. she became a well-known, walking arsenal of a smuggler. Pretty much, the highest bid got whatever they wanted done, whether it was a drug smuggle, or a brutal assassination. Georgia was hard enough to work for any kind of money.
Arsenal:
-Sniper Rifle
-Pistol
-Dagger
Equipment:
- Older Brother's Dog tags from the army.
- Matches and a lighter
- Small sleeping bag
- Soap bar (when needed)
- First Aid Kit
- Gas Mask
Role-play Example:
Georgia let her pale blue eyes flicker open, and was roughly greeted by the blinding rays of sunlight, breaching through the canopy layer of pine trees. Light seemed to peel back the leaves, like fingers prying through a curious pile of dirt, hopefully to reveal some beautiful treasure. But as she blinked, the light dulled down, and she sighed slightly, tipping her head back to roll her eyes gently. It seemed that even the sunlight was disappointed to see that it was only her hidden beneath the protective layers of tree tops.
A chuckle tickled her cracked lips, and the older woman shook her head. "Geez," A sigh puffed from her lungs before she let herself laugh bitterly,"You know yer' bad if the ligh' doesn' even wan' ya'." Her British accent tipped the tone of her voice jokingly.
Georgia rolled her shoulders back, then rolled herself forward, gaining enough momentum to launch herself up onto her feet. She wavered for a single moment, then looked over her shoulder to see the imprint in the blanket of leaves looking relatively human-like.
{{WARNING:: this is a crappy post, and I write WAY more once I have someone to RP with. }}
Extras:
-She is infected, but hasn't changed. She has been a walking cure for a long time, but no one expected her of it.
-She knows Joel as an old friend. {If that's okay}
-She has PTSD : She can never sleep through the night, and always dreams of her infected brother and fiance.
Player Name: Do I really need to give you this info?-I'd rather you just call me Sam. That's not my name, but it's my alias.
Age: {I don't feel comfortable telling anyone this, If you don't mind.}
Roleplay Experience: I've been role-playing for about 6 years. On a website called Chickensmoothie.
How you found out our forum: I think I discovered it on a search engine, Google.