Post by Drake Rosenkov on Dec 21, 2015 7:29:50 GMT
Name: Drake Rosenkov
Alias: "Red Drake", "That Guy Who Just Punched Out A Clicker"
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Faction: Fireflies
Role: Hunter/Tracker, Scavenger
Location: Salt Lake City Area, formerly from Boston
Physical Description:
Drake is a tall man with a tan, blonde, blue-eyed appearance that makes him look like he would have done well in life in a better time. His blond hair is usually kept short but tends to naturally spike up quite a bit, and he usually has several days of unshaven scruffy beard. He stands just over six feet and is generally muscular and athletic, though he tends to keep fully covered by clothes. His usual outfit is a red and black flannel shirt with a camo-colored sweatshirt over it, and dark work jeans. Since his time as a Hunter, Drake wears assorted sports padding on his arms, legs, and shoulders when scavenging outside of cities - while they offer little resistance to bullets, they're quite good against impacts and attempted infected bites.
The most notable aspects about Drake are that he looks young for his age, his hair is usually oddly well-kept, and his bandana. It's a red floral print one that he wears all the time, to the point where most people have never seen him ever take it off.
Face Claim: Chris Hemsworth
Voice Claim: Sokol from Payday 2, slightly deeper
Personality:
"I value two things over all else - doing good, and survival. Unfortunately, this is only the first time I have been able to do both at the same time..."
Drake is a good person in a bad world. Despite having spent most of his life believing the best in people and repeatedly having that belief stepped on, he still manages to come off as an upbeat, good-natured person. Many people would describe him as insufferably likable. Behind it all is a sort of sense of manic desperation, however, a sinking feeling that there's no hope that he spends every moment of his life trying to ignore.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Likes: Booze, shampoo, CD's, AA batteries
Dislikes: The infected in general, not much else
Strengths:
- Drake is incredibly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, easily capable of subduing armed enemies with his bare hands, and even taking on most infected up close with relative ease. He has even been known to kill Clickers this way (though obviously, a bloater is still right out).
- Drake is incredibly skilled at tracking and finding people as well as salvageable supplies. He has used this in three jarringly different ways - finding survivors hiding in remote settlements to try and bring them to better havens, actively hunting Hunters to reclaim supplies from them for less psychotic people, and being a Hunter himself for a time.
- Having spent much of his childhood around a father and a lot of guns, Drake learned a couple neat tricks. In particular, the one trick Drake remembers most is how to make homemade Dragonbreath rounds using shotgun shells and common road flares. The disadvantage is that these shells do not work in more modern semi-automatic shotguns, only old fashioned double barrels and pump-action ones.
Weaknesses:
- Drake is a good person in a bad world, and frequently shows mercy when he really shouldn't. As a result he comes off as somewhat gullible and naive despite being such a hardened survivor. He attributes it to his brother still being with him, even now.
- Drake is frequently an insufferably righteous person, and frequently goes out of his way to help others, to the point where it has put him in danger multiple times (and will surely continue to do so).
History and Background:
Arsenal:
- A pair of brass knuckles with spikes on the front made of sharpened bolts bolted through the top and welded into place. Designed to fit snugly over a glove, it has saved his life time and time again thanks to it letting him still keep his hand free, effectively functioning as a reusable shiv.
- A police-issue shotgun that Drake found in a police cruiser in Boston during his escape. After some fixing up in Chicago and careful care it still works fine, particularly with his ammo of choice.
Equipment:
- Heavy leather gloves
- Assorted sports pads as improv armor
- Gas mask, extra filters
- His mother's dog tags
- Small leather backpack with a holster on the inside for his shotgun
- An old discman, battery operated, as well as a single pair of beat up headphones (currently out of batteries, of course)
- A couple mostly-intact CDs, kept in a hard blue plastic sleeved case to protect them
Roleplay Example:
"Khkk---khlll!"
"Hhrrh!"
The Runners sprinted after Drake as he ran down the halls of the old office building... some old IT company, from the looks of it. He'd taken out the Clicker that was with the group thanks to a well-timed sneak attack, but in its thrashing death it had knocked over a file cabinet and alerted three Runners that were across the room. Drake figured he was better off getting to a better tactical position than pulling out his shotgun, he didn't want to alert any others in the building.
As he rounded the corner out of the hellhole of cubicles and broken computers, he spotted a fire extinguisher on the floor in the hallway, probably long since empty... But still big, and metal. Perfect.
Drake slows slightly, grabbing it by the top and hefting it in both hands, then sliding to a stop. As he sees the Runners sprint around the corner after him, he watches them, his eyes lining up on the front one. A middle aged man when he was in control if his body, from the looks of it... a survivor too, his outfit didn't look like the others, it had too many pockets. He must have been another scavenger. Bad luck, man. Hope you were at least lucky before you got caught.
As the first one closes in, Drake hefts the fire extinguisher in a full-force, two-handed swing, smashing the large metal tank into the Runner's face with enough force to cave in its skull, with how fast it had been going. He keeps going and throws the can at one of the remaining two, hitting it in the foot as it runs from the awkward throw, but only tripping it up. Still, just good enough to give him some space.
The other Runner at the back of the pack jumps at Drake, flailing its arms this way and that. Another survivor, from the looks of it... no, a civilian. Pockets, but no armor, nothing durable on him... poor guy must have tried to find something here to feed his family. Must have been desperate.
Even as his mind is focused on the man's appearance, instinct moves his arms, having fought the predictably flailing Runners this close many times before. He leans back and away from the first swipe, throwing a right jab at the Runner's head, hitting home but the sharpened points of his knuckled shiv not digging in far enough. It pushes the Runner back a step from it, however, letting Drake lean back in and grab the Runner by the shoulder. He moves around behind it, putting it in a sort of headlock for a moment, before delivering a hard, short punch to its temple while its head is immobilized. The sharpened points of his knucks dig in, and the Runner stops flailing and hangs limp.
He drops it, only for the other Runner to grab him from behind. "Hrrahhghk!"
He barely has time to utter a few choice russian curses before it slams him forward against a wall, and starts trying to bite at his neck... but luckily, it only hits plastic and fabric, Drake's padded armor making that normally exposed weak point much less vulnerable. He gets a hold of one of the arms grabbing over his shoulder with one hand and pushes off the wall with the other, backpedaling to the other wall of the hallway, slamming it back against it. He then turns, delivering several vicious right bodyblows while its arm is held aside, then a final shiv-knuckled punch to its face, the impact jamming sharp points into its brain and silencing it once and for all.
He steps back, taking a look at the final threat, now that it
Extras:
Player Name: Call me Moogle
Age: 29
Roleplay Experience: Tabletops and PnPs since I was 10, forum and chat-based RPs and IRC tabletops through college, and since then I've been playing or running tabletop games, playing on RP forums like this, and in particular playing and occasionally staffing several boffer-combat larps, including a postapoc one called Dystopia Rising
How you found out our forum: Ad on one of the other RP sites I'm on, forgot which.
Alias: "Red Drake", "That Guy Who Just Punched Out A Clicker"
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Faction: Fireflies
Role: Hunter/Tracker, Scavenger
Location: Salt Lake City Area, formerly from Boston
Physical Description:
Drake is a tall man with a tan, blonde, blue-eyed appearance that makes him look like he would have done well in life in a better time. His blond hair is usually kept short but tends to naturally spike up quite a bit, and he usually has several days of unshaven scruffy beard. He stands just over six feet and is generally muscular and athletic, though he tends to keep fully covered by clothes. His usual outfit is a red and black flannel shirt with a camo-colored sweatshirt over it, and dark work jeans. Since his time as a Hunter, Drake wears assorted sports padding on his arms, legs, and shoulders when scavenging outside of cities - while they offer little resistance to bullets, they're quite good against impacts and attempted infected bites.
The most notable aspects about Drake are that he looks young for his age, his hair is usually oddly well-kept, and his bandana. It's a red floral print one that he wears all the time, to the point where most people have never seen him ever take it off.
Face Claim: Chris Hemsworth
Voice Claim: Sokol from Payday 2, slightly deeper
Personality:
"I value two things over all else - doing good, and survival. Unfortunately, this is only the first time I have been able to do both at the same time..."
Drake is a good person in a bad world. Despite having spent most of his life believing the best in people and repeatedly having that belief stepped on, he still manages to come off as an upbeat, good-natured person. Many people would describe him as insufferably likable. Behind it all is a sort of sense of manic desperation, however, a sinking feeling that there's no hope that he spends every moment of his life trying to ignore.
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Likes: Booze, shampoo, CD's, AA batteries
Dislikes: The infected in general, not much else
Strengths:
- Drake is incredibly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, easily capable of subduing armed enemies with his bare hands, and even taking on most infected up close with relative ease. He has even been known to kill Clickers this way (though obviously, a bloater is still right out).
- Drake is incredibly skilled at tracking and finding people as well as salvageable supplies. He has used this in three jarringly different ways - finding survivors hiding in remote settlements to try and bring them to better havens, actively hunting Hunters to reclaim supplies from them for less psychotic people, and being a Hunter himself for a time.
- Having spent much of his childhood around a father and a lot of guns, Drake learned a couple neat tricks. In particular, the one trick Drake remembers most is how to make homemade Dragonbreath rounds using shotgun shells and common road flares. The disadvantage is that these shells do not work in more modern semi-automatic shotguns, only old fashioned double barrels and pump-action ones.
Weaknesses:
- Drake is a good person in a bad world, and frequently shows mercy when he really shouldn't. As a result he comes off as somewhat gullible and naive despite being such a hardened survivor. He attributes it to his brother still being with him, even now.
- Drake is frequently an insufferably righteous person, and frequently goes out of his way to help others, to the point where it has put him in danger multiple times (and will surely continue to do so).
History and Background:
{Spoiler}Drake and his twin brother Roan were born before the infection hit, in Boston. Their parents were a Russian military man and a US Navy officer who met overseas in Japan on unrelated deployments, and ended up keeping in touch and settling down together after they both mustered out. They were a decade into raising their two kids when the infection hit. Their mother was effectively forced back into duty with the military during the early stages of the pandemic, and she wasn't able to pass information to her family until it was too late.
Their father took the boys to a hunting lodge further north that he and his friends had been setting up as a fallback, equipped with a sealable bunker. Unfortunately, in getting there they were ambushed by the infected and their father was bitten. Drake learned firsthand how the infection works as it slowly took over his father, before one of the other hunters put him down... then himself, leaving the two brothers alone. They opted to pack everything into the bunker and seal it off, hoping that somehow the pandemic would be over before they ran out of supplies. With just the two of them, however, it lasted over two years, with their only contact to the outside world being the radio.
Eventually, their mother led a military scavenge team to the cabin, having long since assumed her family was dead. She barely recognized her boys at first, but since the bunker was in a "red" zone and the infection detectors were not common yet, their orders were to kill everyone on sight. Their mother refused the order, however one of her subordinates called her out on it and shot Roan. Both Drake and their mother snapped, and opened fire on the military troops, killing the rest of them. After Roan later died due to a lack of available medical care, Drake and his mother left the bunker with the remaining supplies. snuck into the Boston quarantine zone, where Drake became a career scavenger thanks to his knowledge of the area.
They got lucky, but only until the military found out a decade later, after Drake's mother had passed, that she was a traitor due to her last action in the military. They decided for no reason other than spite to attempt to execute Drake in her stead, prompting him to have to fight his way out of military custody and escape the Boston quarantine zone. He headed west, for lack of any other better place to go, and for many years became sort of a drifter from one fringe settlement to another. He helped out those he found, helping out several places in the midwest, staying with various havens for years at a time. To many, he was a hero at one time or another.
To others... he was not. Drake doesn't like talking about it, but for part of his life he was a Hunter, working with a group of them in the Chicago area. While Chicago had formerly been a quarantine zone, a brief lapse in military personnel, a sudden infected surge, and an uprising of the people put the civilians in control at the cost of a large percentage of the population. A group of Hunters moved in and claimed their position as the overseers of the remainder of the city, and while they weren't rampant marauders like many Hunters across the country are, they were aggressive survivalists, and they were cannibals on occasion. Drake actually came to like and trust his erstwhile comrades in the area he stayed in, considering the various disgruntled youths and paranoid ex-survivalists an odd sort of kin to his life experiences. Until one day he and a couple others came home from patrol to find that their base had been raided and killed to the last man. The one who survived long enough for Drake to see him one last time, confusingly told him that it wasn't the military, it was just one man. Drake and the other remaining Hunters tried to track down the fugitive to avenge their comrades, but they never found him.
Soon after, about a year ago, he ended up in a settlement near Jackson County, largely overseen by the Fireflies. Drake had met them many times before, and helped them frequently, but had usually left before they could offer him a job. This time, they recognized him, and almost immediately got him involved in their efforts to track down a source for a potential cure in the Salt Lake City area. Drake was soon headed there, and has since been hot on the trail of "two vicious fugitives, in possession of the means to make a cure to the plague, and have murdered countless civilians and Fireflies alike in their attempt to hoard the cure for themselves." The picture they showed him matched the vague description of the man who had murdered the Chicago guard post. While Drake was deliberately kept out of the loop of the fine details of the truth aside from that the younger girl of the two fugitives was the one with the cure, and since all of his prior experience with the Fireflies has been good, he never questioned further beyond getting paid to find someone he didn't feel bad about tracking down anyway.
Over the next year he made the trek on his own to the Salt Lake City area, and since then has been on the trail of Joel and Ellie, unfortunately to no avail so far.
Their father took the boys to a hunting lodge further north that he and his friends had been setting up as a fallback, equipped with a sealable bunker. Unfortunately, in getting there they were ambushed by the infected and their father was bitten. Drake learned firsthand how the infection works as it slowly took over his father, before one of the other hunters put him down... then himself, leaving the two brothers alone. They opted to pack everything into the bunker and seal it off, hoping that somehow the pandemic would be over before they ran out of supplies. With just the two of them, however, it lasted over two years, with their only contact to the outside world being the radio.
Eventually, their mother led a military scavenge team to the cabin, having long since assumed her family was dead. She barely recognized her boys at first, but since the bunker was in a "red" zone and the infection detectors were not common yet, their orders were to kill everyone on sight. Their mother refused the order, however one of her subordinates called her out on it and shot Roan. Both Drake and their mother snapped, and opened fire on the military troops, killing the rest of them. After Roan later died due to a lack of available medical care, Drake and his mother left the bunker with the remaining supplies. snuck into the Boston quarantine zone, where Drake became a career scavenger thanks to his knowledge of the area.
They got lucky, but only until the military found out a decade later, after Drake's mother had passed, that she was a traitor due to her last action in the military. They decided for no reason other than spite to attempt to execute Drake in her stead, prompting him to have to fight his way out of military custody and escape the Boston quarantine zone. He headed west, for lack of any other better place to go, and for many years became sort of a drifter from one fringe settlement to another. He helped out those he found, helping out several places in the midwest, staying with various havens for years at a time. To many, he was a hero at one time or another.
To others... he was not. Drake doesn't like talking about it, but for part of his life he was a Hunter, working with a group of them in the Chicago area. While Chicago had formerly been a quarantine zone, a brief lapse in military personnel, a sudden infected surge, and an uprising of the people put the civilians in control at the cost of a large percentage of the population. A group of Hunters moved in and claimed their position as the overseers of the remainder of the city, and while they weren't rampant marauders like many Hunters across the country are, they were aggressive survivalists, and they were cannibals on occasion. Drake actually came to like and trust his erstwhile comrades in the area he stayed in, considering the various disgruntled youths and paranoid ex-survivalists an odd sort of kin to his life experiences. Until one day he and a couple others came home from patrol to find that their base had been raided and killed to the last man. The one who survived long enough for Drake to see him one last time, confusingly told him that it wasn't the military, it was just one man. Drake and the other remaining Hunters tried to track down the fugitive to avenge their comrades, but they never found him.
Soon after, about a year ago, he ended up in a settlement near Jackson County, largely overseen by the Fireflies. Drake had met them many times before, and helped them frequently, but had usually left before they could offer him a job. This time, they recognized him, and almost immediately got him involved in their efforts to track down a source for a potential cure in the Salt Lake City area. Drake was soon headed there, and has since been hot on the trail of "two vicious fugitives, in possession of the means to make a cure to the plague, and have murdered countless civilians and Fireflies alike in their attempt to hoard the cure for themselves." The picture they showed him matched the vague description of the man who had murdered the Chicago guard post. While Drake was deliberately kept out of the loop of the fine details of the truth aside from that the younger girl of the two fugitives was the one with the cure, and since all of his prior experience with the Fireflies has been good, he never questioned further beyond getting paid to find someone he didn't feel bad about tracking down anyway.
Over the next year he made the trek on his own to the Salt Lake City area, and since then has been on the trail of Joel and Ellie, unfortunately to no avail so far.
Arsenal:
- A pair of brass knuckles with spikes on the front made of sharpened bolts bolted through the top and welded into place. Designed to fit snugly over a glove, it has saved his life time and time again thanks to it letting him still keep his hand free, effectively functioning as a reusable shiv.
- A police-issue shotgun that Drake found in a police cruiser in Boston during his escape. After some fixing up in Chicago and careful care it still works fine, particularly with his ammo of choice.
Equipment:
- Heavy leather gloves
- Assorted sports pads as improv armor
- Gas mask, extra filters
- His mother's dog tags
- Small leather backpack with a holster on the inside for his shotgun
- An old discman, battery operated, as well as a single pair of beat up headphones (currently out of batteries, of course)
- A couple mostly-intact CDs, kept in a hard blue plastic sleeved case to protect them
Roleplay Example:
"Khkk---khlll!"
"Hhrrh!"
The Runners sprinted after Drake as he ran down the halls of the old office building... some old IT company, from the looks of it. He'd taken out the Clicker that was with the group thanks to a well-timed sneak attack, but in its thrashing death it had knocked over a file cabinet and alerted three Runners that were across the room. Drake figured he was better off getting to a better tactical position than pulling out his shotgun, he didn't want to alert any others in the building.
As he rounded the corner out of the hellhole of cubicles and broken computers, he spotted a fire extinguisher on the floor in the hallway, probably long since empty... But still big, and metal. Perfect.
Drake slows slightly, grabbing it by the top and hefting it in both hands, then sliding to a stop. As he sees the Runners sprint around the corner after him, he watches them, his eyes lining up on the front one. A middle aged man when he was in control if his body, from the looks of it... a survivor too, his outfit didn't look like the others, it had too many pockets. He must have been another scavenger. Bad luck, man. Hope you were at least lucky before you got caught.
As the first one closes in, Drake hefts the fire extinguisher in a full-force, two-handed swing, smashing the large metal tank into the Runner's face with enough force to cave in its skull, with how fast it had been going. He keeps going and throws the can at one of the remaining two, hitting it in the foot as it runs from the awkward throw, but only tripping it up. Still, just good enough to give him some space.
The other Runner at the back of the pack jumps at Drake, flailing its arms this way and that. Another survivor, from the looks of it... no, a civilian. Pockets, but no armor, nothing durable on him... poor guy must have tried to find something here to feed his family. Must have been desperate.
Even as his mind is focused on the man's appearance, instinct moves his arms, having fought the predictably flailing Runners this close many times before. He leans back and away from the first swipe, throwing a right jab at the Runner's head, hitting home but the sharpened points of his knuckled shiv not digging in far enough. It pushes the Runner back a step from it, however, letting Drake lean back in and grab the Runner by the shoulder. He moves around behind it, putting it in a sort of headlock for a moment, before delivering a hard, short punch to its temple while its head is immobilized. The sharpened points of his knucks dig in, and the Runner stops flailing and hangs limp.
He drops it, only for the other Runner to grab him from behind. "Hrrahhghk!"
He barely has time to utter a few choice russian curses before it slams him forward against a wall, and starts trying to bite at his neck... but luckily, it only hits plastic and fabric, Drake's padded armor making that normally exposed weak point much less vulnerable. He gets a hold of one of the arms grabbing over his shoulder with one hand and pushes off the wall with the other, backpedaling to the other wall of the hallway, slamming it back against it. He then turns, delivering several vicious right bodyblows while its arm is held aside, then a final shiv-knuckled punch to its face, the impact jamming sharp points into its brain and silencing it once and for all.
He steps back, taking a look at the final threat, now that it
Extras:
Player Name: Call me Moogle
Age: 29
Roleplay Experience: Tabletops and PnPs since I was 10, forum and chat-based RPs and IRC tabletops through college, and since then I've been playing or running tabletop games, playing on RP forums like this, and in particular playing and occasionally staffing several boffer-combat larps, including a postapoc one called Dystopia Rising
How you found out our forum: Ad on one of the other RP sites I'm on, forgot which.
