╔══════════════╗
~Personal Info ~
╚══════════════╝
Designation: Drake Gabriel McKnight
Call Name: Corporal
Cycles past: 24
Sex: Male
It's in the blood: White
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 200 lbs
Hair: Black
Eye Color: Light Blue
Physic: Drake is tall and lean, but extremely muscular. Being a member of the Marine Corps, he was expected to be at top physical condition at all times. As such, he cuts a very intimidating figure, although he is somewhat shy about it and tries to hide it with ill-fitting clothes, at least when not in uniform. His hair typically grows very quickly and he prefers it longer, only keeping it short because of the military standard. Whenever he was on leave, he would let it grow out, getting it buzzed the night before returning. Having been on leave for a full two weeks before the madness started, it has been a total of five weeks since his last haircut, if he's been keeping his time right. It's not long by any means, but it's certainly not military standard.
╔══════════════╗
~Dig a bit Deeper~
╚══════════════╝
~Dig a bit Deeper~
╚══════════════╝
Occupation:Corporal in the US Marine Corps. Currently a gunman for a band of survivors.
Loyalties:Gun Groupies
I can't help it! Rowan, my girlfriend since... honestly, I don't even remember how long. I've never been good at keeping track. What matters is that I love her.
It's fun:
☆ Reading books on history
☆ Target Practice (lately with moving targets. Very, very slow ones...)
☆ Spending time with Rowan.
Thanks much:
♡ The feel of a gun in my hand
♡ Biographies, mostly about people famous for Revolutionary movements, like Washington or Gandhi
♡ The satisfaction of taking down a dead man
♡ Having people who have my back
♡ ... Don't tell the guys, cuz I'll never live it down, but I've got a soft spot for the Theater. Especially musicals. That's why I was so excited the day I met Rowan. We were in the performing arts hall... I was a bit less... composed, at the time.
No way:
☠ Dead people. I'm sick of looking at their ugly, dead faces.
☠ Running out of things to do in my downtime. I miss TV. And the Internet. Thank God this happened before books only ran on electricity, too.
☠ Not being able to know who to trust. Things are crazy. People are, surprisingly, crazier.
☠ Off-key singing. It's just... torture. On my ears. I mean it's one thing if you miss a note or jump or something but if you're belting it and it's all wrong or you sound like you're screeching then please stop or I will shoot you.
☠ Pickles. Don't ask me why, I've just never liked them. Or anything sour, really, but especially pickles.
What the hell:
× Being surrounded with no more rounds in my clip
× Putting my fate in the hands of someone I can't trust, who'll only protect their own back and not worry about mine.
× ... Not finding Rowan. I don't like even saying it, because it's like admitting it's possible and I have to believe... but it's so hard sometimes.
Can't Change It: I'm loyal, brave, and hardworking. I'm determined to keep myself and anyone who trusts me enough to put their life in my hands alive. I have an indomitable will, and I will not be denied. I'm dedicated to my task, which is to find Rowan, and hopefully to find a safe place for us to try and claim as our own, a safe haven where we will be protected, and where I can protect us. I'm a secret romantic, and some would call me a bit of a girl. I love doing grand romantic gestures, even if I don't remember exactly how long we've been together. I just can't remember a life before her, in terms of romance, so trying to remember the number is hard for me. I'm completely dedicated to her, and she is to me. A lot of people call me crazy for that, but I trust her. She put up with me being shipped out all over the world and trusted me not to do anything I shouldn't; I owe her the same trust, and give it readily. I'm almost as trusting with other people, although I've gotten less so in the past few weeks. It's hard to trust strangers when you have several of them point guns at your head in a matter of days, after all. Unfortunately for them, they were all outmatched. Severely so. I left them all alive, and probably wishing they weren't. I deliberately left one of them as Walker bait... I won't say what I found him doing, but let's just say it was to a young girl and he deserved what he got. I have a very strict sense of morals, and even if this world is making me change them, it's not changing who I am at heart. Right is right, wrong is wrong. Were there a system in place that would've punished him for his crime, I would have left him to it. But, there isn't, so I took it upon myself. Some would say I was cruel, but I believe in people getting what they give.
History is set in stone: I'm from a military family, with a long tradition of men serving in the Marine Corps. My father was the highest ranking officer in the family, he made it to Colonel before retiring. I was raised from a very young age to uphold the traditional beliefs of a Marine. I was taught to do right, and to be honorable in all that I did. My father enjoyed bonding with me, taking any excuse he could to offer me a lesson in American History or to tell me an old war story or two. When I got old enough, he started teaching me how to shoot. Said if I was going to be a Marine like my daddy, he wanted me to have a leg up on all the other recruits. I'm not a perfect shot by far, but I did score the highest in my ROTC class all through high school. Made the highest grades, too. Dad never stopped boasting about that. He was always so proud of me; given that, aside from my dedication to ROTC, I didn't tend to fit in with 'that' crowd, as my friends called it, they all questioned why I was joining the military. I guess they all thought I was only doing it out of obligation, but the truth is, I just... never thought of not being a Marine. I was happy knowing I was going to serve my country. Other interests were incidental.
My other interests were, as mentioned, the performing arts. Particularly musical theater. I never got to act in any of the plays, but that was fine with me. I was far happier helping out backstage, working lights and helping build the sets. It was good work; hands on, lots of room for me to make things up as I went along. I also help with the lighting and music for the performances the Choir and Dance teams did. Color guard, too; that was always my favorite, because I got to watch Rowan perform. I knew the first time I saw her that she was... special. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. I was giving a tour of the school to the incoming freshmen from a nearby middle school, and had just gotten to the fine arts building, specifically the area that branched into the theater classroom and dance studio. I guess I got a little animated when talking about the performing arts program at my school (it was very good, actually, we won UIL two years running, and then another year following a second place win). Apparently, it amused Rowan, because she let out this strangely adorable little squeak, and when I looked at her, she blushed scarlet. When she came to the school the next year, as a freshmen, I recognized her in the halls and offered to help her find her classes. We were dating not long after that. I got a few funny looks for dating a freshman, but I didn't particularly care. I was too wrapped up in her. Our relationship kept going after I graduated and enlisted. It was tough, not getting to see her much, but the only way to avoid it would've been for me to not join the military, and I can't even imagine not having done that. We've both beaten the odds, though. Stayed faithful, never straying or losing trust or falling out of love with one another.
I was, thankfully, on leave when the world ended. I guess it seems sort of melodramatic to say it that way, but that's what it feels like. Anyway, me n Rowan were together. We joined a group of people and camped out with them for a while. Things were going great; we got lulled into a false sense of security, I guess. One night, Rowan and I snuck off for some alone time. We at least got to spend a great night together... but the next morning, I woke up to the sound of the dead trying to fight their way inside. I guess a few of 'em had seen us go in the house the night before, and then attracted the attention of more, because there were... there were a lot of them. Some of them managed to break a window, it was real loud and I guess it woke Rowan up. The ones that got the window open saw her and immediately started trying to claw their way in to get to her. I screamed for her to get out, and she took off. I figured I'd catch up with her later, you know? I was takn' the dead out, one by one, and by the time I was done, I was exhausted and my nerves were shot. I could barely believe I was alive... and almost wished I wasn't. I passed out, I think, and should probably thank my lucky stars that some Walker didn't decide to make a meal out of me before I came to. Then again, maybe they didn't realize I was a meal; I was covered in gore and yuck from the ones I'd killed. I don't remember much after I woke up. There were more Walkers then and they spotted me, realized I was alive and took off after me. I ran for I don't know how long. By the time I felt safe, I had no idea where I was; hard to bother looking for landmarks when you're running for your life, after all. It took me a day or so to even figure out where I was... and after that, I tried to return to the camp, to find Rowan, but it took forever to get back, being turned around like I was. Then, when I finally got there, the camp was gone. We'd known that the people we'd met up with were part of a larger group and that the original location had been temporary, so I figured that, if she'd made it back (and she had to have, because if not then I'd never forgive myself for letting her run off alone), they must've decided it was time to rejoin that larger group. Since then, I've been trying to find them... but no luck so far. I can't give up, though. I have to find her. I have to.
╔══════════════╗
~Combat info~
╚══════════════╝
~Combat info~
╚══════════════╝
Main Weapon: A M-16, standard issue rifle for the military, with 4 magazines, 30 bullets each.Secondary Weapons: Heckler & Koch HK45, which is our standard issue handgun, with 5 clips of ten rounds each, and a combat knife.
Strengths: My military training has made me extremely fit, both physically and mentally. I'm strong and I can think on my feet/
Weaknesses: I tend to overdo it when it comes to pushing myself, and can put myself in tight spots because of it. I find myself backed into a lot of corners. Granted, I always seem to find a way out, but it's only a matter of time until that isn't the case.
Combat style: I received extensive military training, both in hand to hand combat and with guns. That being said... they don't exactly teach you to actively avoid the mouth when you're in a fist fight, or to aim for the head when you're shooting, so it's taken some getting used to.
Supplies:
MRE x 3
Chance of clothes x 2
Canteen
Water purifying tables x 10
Trail mix x 5
Winter coat
Flashlight
Matchbox x 3
Lighter x 4
Sleeping Bag
Oil Lantern
Off!
Fishing Pole
Spare line x 2
Rope
Flint and steel
Gun-cleaning kit
A pocketwatch, with a picture of Rowan inside.
╔══════════════╗
~In addition~
╚══════════════╝
~In addition~
╚══════════════╝
Themes: Broken
Vehicle: None
Others: He doesn't know it yet, but he's going to be a father!
