KamiKahzy
Tectonic Nomad
NAME: Hunter Flynn
AGE: 24
GENDER: Male
APPEARANCE: Despite being so young, anyone who looks at Hunter would describe the man with one word: 'grizzled'. Hunter has lived through some shit in his lifetime. He's survived bandit raids, wild animals, acts of nature, mutinies, and countless infected to be where is today, and one doesn't survive such things without earning some scars. The most obvious ones are some gashes on his face over his right cheek and various bullet holes in his shoulder, arms, and left leg. Hunter is skinnier than expected as he tries to keep his people fed before himself, a bad habit that he's hell bent on keeping alive despite various protests. Despite that the man keeps in shape and has a reasonably pleasant face to look at with flat cheeks and a pointed chin. His hair is dirty blonde but you'd hardly know that since he keeps it cut so close to his head, a common tactic of survival against grasping infected. Hunter stands at 5'9" and tries to stay clean shaven but razors are hard to come by these days. Sometimes a quick trim with the scissors is all he can manage but really, who cares? Its not like he has to impress anyone out here.
DEMEANOR/PERSONALITY: Hunter grew up in a cold world that was constantly trying to kill him. His parents loved him and his group loved him as one of their own but that's as far as affection goes in this world. If you're too emotional then you get careless, and getting careless gets people killed. Hunter is a hard young man that doesn't wear his feelings very often. When he needs to he can just 'shut off' those emotions so he can think clearly in the moment. It's only when the moment has passed that he can properly assess those feelings and cope like a normal person. When he was younger he cried and worried about things outside of his control, but now that he's older he knows better and is more accustomed to the realities of life. It's not that Hunter doesn't care, far from it. He cares deeply about his people and their well being, he just shows it through actions instead of words. Hunter is part of a rare breed that can stay cool and collected under pressure, which is exactly why he was put in charge of his community when the time came to elect a new leader. Some people wonder if Hunter grew into his name, or if his name was prophetic of the man he would become. Either way, his name is an apt way to describe him: a hunter.
HISTORY: Hunter was born a few years before the infection took hold in his province of Wardwin. His parents were practical people, not exactly 'preppers' but they had plans for when emergencies happened. But the infection spreading out of the west was something nobody could expect, not even Hunter's folks. Hunter's father, Michael, was a cop, and his mother, June, was a nurse. Such demanding jobs might have made Hunter's upbringing difficult if the infection hadn't struck when it did. At first Michael and the other police did what they could to keep their town under control, but Michael saw the way things were going and he knew he needed to get his family somewhere safe. He called home and gave his wife the code they agreed on, then June gathered up Hunter and grabbed the family bug out bags before leaving town for the hills. She and young Hunter stayed in the woods for five days, waiting for the chaos to die down before she made the call. Against all odds Michael responded with the safe word and gave June the location to meet up with him. They reunited, embraced, and then Michael brought June back to the small group of survivors he'd managed to gather up. Together they went off and started a new life together, keeping their group alive as best they could and taking on all challenges this new world could throw at them.
It was a great many years before real tragedy would come to Hunter, when his father died shortly after his 15th birthday. Not from Jasper's disease, raiders, or even a clever mutiny; but from an honest to God infected wound that wouldn't heal properly. Medical supplies had all but dried up at that point, and Michael's injury that day had been a rough one. A bear attack came out of nowhere and caught the group by surprise, with Michael taking the brunt of it to shield Hunter and the others. He might have lived through it but antibiotics were all but extinct, and the claws had cut too deep. His death hit everyone hard, Michael had been a reasonable and strong leader for their group and had seen them through a lot of problems over the years. June took it harder than most but Hunter took it the hardest. His father had taught him everything he knew; how to shoot, how to track, how to survive in the woods, how to cook, how to play the harmonica. But most of all he'd taught Hunter how to act and carry himself as a man. He taught him good morals, shrewd insight into the character of others, and when to spare a life rather than take one. When Michael died a part of Hunter died along with him, and in hindsight Hunter could say that was the day he lost his smile. His father had always seemed invincible to him, just lucky and smart enough to always come out alive with that silly grin on his face. Now there he was, six feet under because of a damn bacteria. Suddenly things didn't seem so lighthearted anymore, so simple or carefree. Hunter's taste for life dulled significantly from then on, and it would be many years before he found any reason to once again enjoy the little things that came his way.
Life went on much as it always had after that, and over time the commune grew into a respectable settlement all its own. Eventually Hunter would take over leadership of the commune after proving himself a competent leader, both during scavenging trips and when settling issues at home. Things were good and predictable for a while, but then reports started coming in from the north. The National Provisional Authority, the new 'face' of the Republic's government, decided they wanted to 'reintegrate' and 'rehabilitate' the lost provinces. And from the reports coming in it sounded like this 'rehabilitation' was coming at gunpoint. Hunter could see the shift in the wind and he knew the NPA wouldn't stop unless someone stood up and made them. So he took a group of volunteers from their commune, said his goodbyes to his mother, and headed northeast for the border. Now Hunter leads his group of guerillas into the teeth of a much better armed and fed enemy, a callous monster with no desire to judge a man's character before it kills. With his Sentinels at his side Hunter hopes to put up one hell of a fight against these invading pricks. And if they're very, very lucky, maybe they'll even force the NPA to rethink this reclamation project of theirs.
AGE: 24
GENDER: Male
APPEARANCE: Despite being so young, anyone who looks at Hunter would describe the man with one word: 'grizzled'. Hunter has lived through some shit in his lifetime. He's survived bandit raids, wild animals, acts of nature, mutinies, and countless infected to be where is today, and one doesn't survive such things without earning some scars. The most obvious ones are some gashes on his face over his right cheek and various bullet holes in his shoulder, arms, and left leg. Hunter is skinnier than expected as he tries to keep his people fed before himself, a bad habit that he's hell bent on keeping alive despite various protests. Despite that the man keeps in shape and has a reasonably pleasant face to look at with flat cheeks and a pointed chin. His hair is dirty blonde but you'd hardly know that since he keeps it cut so close to his head, a common tactic of survival against grasping infected. Hunter stands at 5'9" and tries to stay clean shaven but razors are hard to come by these days. Sometimes a quick trim with the scissors is all he can manage but really, who cares? Its not like he has to impress anyone out here.
DEMEANOR/PERSONALITY: Hunter grew up in a cold world that was constantly trying to kill him. His parents loved him and his group loved him as one of their own but that's as far as affection goes in this world. If you're too emotional then you get careless, and getting careless gets people killed. Hunter is a hard young man that doesn't wear his feelings very often. When he needs to he can just 'shut off' those emotions so he can think clearly in the moment. It's only when the moment has passed that he can properly assess those feelings and cope like a normal person. When he was younger he cried and worried about things outside of his control, but now that he's older he knows better and is more accustomed to the realities of life. It's not that Hunter doesn't care, far from it. He cares deeply about his people and their well being, he just shows it through actions instead of words. Hunter is part of a rare breed that can stay cool and collected under pressure, which is exactly why he was put in charge of his community when the time came to elect a new leader. Some people wonder if Hunter grew into his name, or if his name was prophetic of the man he would become. Either way, his name is an apt way to describe him: a hunter.
HISTORY: Hunter was born a few years before the infection took hold in his province of Wardwin. His parents were practical people, not exactly 'preppers' but they had plans for when emergencies happened. But the infection spreading out of the west was something nobody could expect, not even Hunter's folks. Hunter's father, Michael, was a cop, and his mother, June, was a nurse. Such demanding jobs might have made Hunter's upbringing difficult if the infection hadn't struck when it did. At first Michael and the other police did what they could to keep their town under control, but Michael saw the way things were going and he knew he needed to get his family somewhere safe. He called home and gave his wife the code they agreed on, then June gathered up Hunter and grabbed the family bug out bags before leaving town for the hills. She and young Hunter stayed in the woods for five days, waiting for the chaos to die down before she made the call. Against all odds Michael responded with the safe word and gave June the location to meet up with him. They reunited, embraced, and then Michael brought June back to the small group of survivors he'd managed to gather up. Together they went off and started a new life together, keeping their group alive as best they could and taking on all challenges this new world could throw at them.
It was a great many years before real tragedy would come to Hunter, when his father died shortly after his 15th birthday. Not from Jasper's disease, raiders, or even a clever mutiny; but from an honest to God infected wound that wouldn't heal properly. Medical supplies had all but dried up at that point, and Michael's injury that day had been a rough one. A bear attack came out of nowhere and caught the group by surprise, with Michael taking the brunt of it to shield Hunter and the others. He might have lived through it but antibiotics were all but extinct, and the claws had cut too deep. His death hit everyone hard, Michael had been a reasonable and strong leader for their group and had seen them through a lot of problems over the years. June took it harder than most but Hunter took it the hardest. His father had taught him everything he knew; how to shoot, how to track, how to survive in the woods, how to cook, how to play the harmonica. But most of all he'd taught Hunter how to act and carry himself as a man. He taught him good morals, shrewd insight into the character of others, and when to spare a life rather than take one. When Michael died a part of Hunter died along with him, and in hindsight Hunter could say that was the day he lost his smile. His father had always seemed invincible to him, just lucky and smart enough to always come out alive with that silly grin on his face. Now there he was, six feet under because of a damn bacteria. Suddenly things didn't seem so lighthearted anymore, so simple or carefree. Hunter's taste for life dulled significantly from then on, and it would be many years before he found any reason to once again enjoy the little things that came his way.
Life went on much as it always had after that, and over time the commune grew into a respectable settlement all its own. Eventually Hunter would take over leadership of the commune after proving himself a competent leader, both during scavenging trips and when settling issues at home. Things were good and predictable for a while, but then reports started coming in from the north. The National Provisional Authority, the new 'face' of the Republic's government, decided they wanted to 'reintegrate' and 'rehabilitate' the lost provinces. And from the reports coming in it sounded like this 'rehabilitation' was coming at gunpoint. Hunter could see the shift in the wind and he knew the NPA wouldn't stop unless someone stood up and made them. So he took a group of volunteers from their commune, said his goodbyes to his mother, and headed northeast for the border. Now Hunter leads his group of guerillas into the teeth of a much better armed and fed enemy, a callous monster with no desire to judge a man's character before it kills. With his Sentinels at his side Hunter hopes to put up one hell of a fight against these invading pricks. And if they're very, very lucky, maybe they'll even force the NPA to rethink this reclamation project of theirs.
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