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 Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 6:59 pm
 [ DAY ZERO JOURNAL LOG ENTRY ] Anton Shepard Character ID number: #119 Link to your character's survival stats (minis) profile: Antoinette Shepard ViewFaction: University - D1 Rank: Freshman
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[spoiler][quote="OOC"]
[b][ Damage Sustained: [i]Fractured Arm -- lower arm, bullet wound[/i] ][/b]
[b]Character's name:[/b] [strike]Antoinette[/strike] Anton Shepard
[b]Character's faction:[/b] University
[b]Character's journal link:[/b] [url=http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=24795351]Here[/url]
[b]Character's survival stats: [/b] [b]Antoinette Shepard[/b] [url=http://www.thesporkedken.com/adopt/dayzerouser.php?act=profile&user=119]View[/url]
[b]Jersey Number:[/b] #3
[b]BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER[/b] At 5’3”, Anton isn’t the most intimidating person on the block. Her bright red hair, green eyes, and I-don’t-tan-I-burn pale body might make for a classic picture with her temper, but for how she keeps her body as toned as her mind, she’s got it in her head she’s a force to be reckoned with. Her clothing is usually large sweaters and jackets over sportswear and comfy, sturdy boots with lots of padding in them. Though she’s got a thing for layering her tops, she likes to keep a general theme of [i]movement[/i] around her. Or, y’know, [i]cheap[/i] works too.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 7:03 pm
[ The Me I Try to Be ]
Character Name: Antoinette “Anton” Shepard
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Employment: College Student — Senior, Anthropology Major and Folklore Minor
Faction: District 1 University
Character description:
[+] Tactician :: Anton’s always a girl with a plan. She likes her planners, she likes her routes, she likes her time to plot out the best course of action. Anywhere from a rough outline to the day’s events she wants to accomplish, to plotting out timeframes for assignments, to scheduling in gaming practices. While she excels at time management over long-term assignments, Anton’s no slouch at analyzing situations on the fly to try and come out on top. Not always a success mind you—too many variables to account for if she’s not careful—but she can at least act like she knows what she’s doing when the going gets rough. For a little while, anyways.
[+] Companion :: If you need someone to shoot the breeze with or a shoulder to cry on, go find Anton. Strangers or long-time friends—heck strangers are usually treated like long-time friends—Anton’s the type who is always willing and able to have someone’s back. Very much the type to treat others as she’d wish to be treated, she took the “too make friends, you have to be a friend” mentality to heart from a young age.
[-] Brawler :: For all her good intentions, girl’s got a temper. Though she’s good at keeping it in check for a long stretch, even with her tell-tale signs of clenching her fists a lot or speaking with maybe a bit too tight of a voice, she’s still pretty good at keeping her relative cool. But when the girl hits her breaking point with stress and inability to control a situation, boy does she break. Her temper is an explosive one, with outbursts being long and loud until she’s run out of steam. Anything from screaming and cursing, to throwing fists if she gets revved up enough. Once she’s off on her rage, it’s best to let her take her own space and just exhaust herself so she call chill again. She’ll be pretty apologetic, but she’s lost a few friendships over the years for the nasty thoughts she’ll sling at them when she’s in a fit.
[-] Mercenary :: Anton’s always a girl with a plan… for her to get ahead of the pack. Though she’s got a moral compass, and generally tries to stay on the right side of the path like any moral citizen, her moral compass has a kinda faulty due North. Her top priority? Herself. Though she’s more than willing to help other people out when she can and be there for others, the moment someone else’s well-being puts her own goals or priorities into question, she’s quick to cut them out of her personal equation. She’s a bit more linnet to those she considers to be in her circle, her friends and chosen family, to the point that she will put a bit of her own goals on the line to help someone else out. But after going lax for an assignment or two? If even her best friend continues to be a hazard to her goals and keeps jeopardizing her plans, Anton won’t hesitate to take out the uncooperative element.
Physical: At 5’3”, Anton isn’t the most intimidating person on the block. Her bright red hair, green eyes, and I-don’t-tan-I-burn pale body might make for a classic picture with her temper, but for how she keeps her body as toned as her mind, she’s got it in her head she’s a force to be reckoned with. Her clothing is usually large sweaters and jackets over sportswear and comfy, sturdy boots with lots of padding in them. Though she’s got a thing for layering her tops, she likes to keep a general theme of movement around her. Or, y’know, cheap works too.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 7:21 pm
[ The Day the World Ended ]
Anton stretched at her seat in one of the computer labs hosted by the library. With a roommate who was way too loud, doing her research papers for classes was kinda gauged impossible back at the start of the semester. Not that the redhead minded horribly, the privacy of the campus at night was sort of relaxing. In a Let’s-Ignore-Every-Horror-Movie-In-College-Campuses way. Music blaring in her ears from the earbuds it seemed most people sported these days around campus, she paid little mind to if anyone else was in the room still with her.
Hard to not notice though when the damn power went out. “Son of a— my paper!” Her voice shot through the dark illuminated by her cell phone screen, echoed by objections from others still in the library like her. Frustrated, she pulled out the flash drive she prayed held some earlier save she, hopefully, hadn’t made too long before the power went poof. Across her screen her fingers danced, sending warnings to her roommate she’d be back early and to clear her boyfriend out before she got there. Though the subsequent conversation was prolonged by waiting and then complaints about the interruption, Anton paid little mind to the darkened library around her.
Didn’t pay attention to the windows, or well… anything. Except when Trish began to send her texts of how weird people were being outside their residence.
Maybe Anton should wait a while before heading out.
Er. Maybe find another place to stay. Trish was beginning to regret staying at their place. Text flashed across her messenger from other friends. Soon talk of the virus began to appear. Similar content on social media, making her skin crawl despite how she kept trying to laugh the s**t off. This wasn’t World War Z, c’mon.
She hadn’t been watching the clock. In retrospect, Anton could figure maybe only thirty minutes or so passed before she heard glass breaking, though sitting in the dark bickering with her roomie whom was starting to freak her out, it felt far, far longer.
Someone started to scream, loud enough for even Anton to hear it over her music, pulling her earbuds out as she squinted through the dark. Someone was crawling through a first floor window of the library, grabbing another person and… doing something. That person was screaming. Screaming… cliche as hell, but bloody murder. Shepard lingered for only a moment, body frozen as she tried to not make sense of what she could barely see in the gloom phone screens tried to illuminated, yet at the same time her brain filling in the blanks with grotesque additions that made her stomach heave.
Survival of the fittest. Wasn’t that always how it went? She grabbed her bag, and she bolted for the back entrance.
Trish wasn’t picking up her phone. Neither was Anton’s sister, or uncle or aunt. Or anyone. People were texting yet not responding, posting stuff online yet not at all helpful at figuring out what was going on.
People blocked her paths and she kept having to deviate. Kept moving up, sometimes only after going over other people. The screaming never stopped around her, and god help her, she kept trying to call her loved ones. Sneakers slammed into the stairs and down halls as she ran, trying to keep doors shut behind her—locked, if she could. Trying to figure out how to… hide? Get secure? Should she have run into the streets? Locking herself up in a classroom wasn’t hard. Barring the door with stuff inside the room was even easier. Shutting off her phone. Losing that last light. Losing that last connection to the world that wasn’t screaming and bleeding and… a nightmare.
That was hard.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2015 7:22 pm
[ One Month Later . . . ]
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Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2015 10:56 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2015 6:40 pm
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