Post by Brandon Mercer on Jul 7, 2010 0:47:16 GMT -5
Brandon Aberdeen Mercer
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“It's not the first time and their getting deeper”
[/b][/color][/center][/font][/size][/font][/color]F U L L // N A M E: Brandon Aberdeen Mercer
N I C K N A M E S: Brady
G E N D E R: Male
A G E: 25
S E X U A L I T Y: Hetero
O C C U P A T I O N: Surviving ;; Head Father
G R O U P: Survivor
[/size][/font][/color]A P P E A R A N C E: Brandon is a very strapping man. He has broad, strong shoulders that place him apart from any other common-folk man with his heap of experience. His eyes hold the truth behind what he had gone through despite attempts to make cordial advances. They shine with the distinct hope that quite possibly those that he had almost forgotten might still be sharing this existence with him. Those two orbs that shine with a simple radiance and of a tale apart keep the steady growth of strength that he had been taught, simply, caged. His figure is lean and muscular showing an ambient transition from rancher to mysterious outlaw from the things that he once held close. He stands at 5'9'' with every intention of keeping the ice in justice. He is, quite handsomely, one of the most quietest people ever to grace the sprawling plains of the west. There are pockets of pure strength which hug his body greatly clenching the muscles to give him the plus factor if he were to ever find himself open firing amid the smokey musketry of a firefight behind the comforts of a six-shooter. He is, in his own experience, a chillingly serenading human being.
P L A Y B Y: Chris Pine
[/size][/font][/color]W H A T // H E // L I K E S: list at least ten
W H A T // H E // D I S L I K E S: Nature, Weapons, Plan A, Trustworthy people, Ammunition, Whiskey, Bourbon,
H I S // S T R E N G T H S: All hope is gone
H I S // W E A K N E S S E S: Temptation, Rage, His desire to "be there"
H I S // F E A R S: Getting infected
H I S // S E C R E T S: Shot his sister upon the initial outbreak
T H E // P E R S O N A L I T Y: Brandon comes from a very well-educated farming background. Though his duplicity knows no bounds he has always found a way to survive. He had begun to undergo teachings from his mother about global history and the outlying territories and how they had managed to unite a little more than a dozen states. He had found that he was always fascinated with military strategy. Though never attending school, his mother, who then along with his father ran a ranch took up the courtesy of keeping little Brandon up-to-date and within the loop of current events. His sister had implored his parents to send him to a boarding school and so was the tale. Though he never went. Brandon grew the knack of being able to pick off a target from a dozen meters thanks to the long, grueling hours of shooting the families Winchester rifle back behind the ranch. At first Brandon came to the steadfast conclusion that he wasn't meant to kill folks and so he said, “I ain't meant to kill folks, Pa.” The only thing little Brandon as resulted with were the more focused teaching and tutoring of the day. Brandon can remember standing with his father reloading the Winchester when he piped up and wishing that he had kept his mouth shut. Their practiced shootings had gone on for some months aiming at used tin cans line a log off in the distance. By the early age of 15, Brandon had given up and resorted to being stingy whenever his father wanted to practice some more “shootin'”. Brandon grew the ability to be impatient about certain things. He can remember quite clearly, to this day, attending a family dinner and just having finished listening to his sister's note about "reaching for the stars". He hated the “golden boy” possibility. It was then that he grew the admiration for history and archeology. He can remember going out into the back of the house and searching for lost items. Brandon never had the bargain to kill or even shoot a gun. He hated the loud noise it produced.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/color]P A R E N T S: Kyle Mercer (Deceased) Abigail Mercer (Deceased)
S I B L I N G S: Jaime Mercer (Deceased)
H O M E T O W N: Coconut Grove
H E R I T A G E: American
T H E // H I S T O R Y: Brandon was born in Coconut Grove and there he was raised. For years the only thing he perceived as home was the ranch in which his family lived, studied and worked on. They owned eight horses two of which died almost immediately during the outbreak plus many more animals all of which are now dead. Ever since Brandon was a small boy his father wanted to make a survivor out of him. Oddly enough, his mother wanted to draw parallels between them and give Brandon a well successful background education so that he may live long and prosper and all that bullshit. The time was spent around back shooting at the grain silo with the family's Winchester repeater. Instead of attending school Brandon stayed home to help with the ranch so that one day he may take it over. His younger sister had been the one who desired an education. She was enrolled in Coconut University.
When the outbreak arrived and once it had breached the outer hills behind the city where the ranch was located the first signs of infection came from the cattle. Brandon had to end the hard work his family put into building the ranch. Next it was Brandon's mother who succumbed easily after not being well-protected one day gathering water. Brandon was slowly beginning to realize that this may just be what his father had wanted to see in him. Taking care of the worse matters with complaining. The next person to succumb was Brandon's father who had sustained an injury battling an enraged horse. It was then that Brandon murdered all of the livestock thus cutting of their food supply. As the grueling years progressed his sister slowly got infected from being outdoors. Brandon never got the chance to find out how his family had got infected so easily when he wouldn't. Jaime slowly fell deeper into the infection. One point Brandon had to drag her outside much to her garbled screams. He killed his entire family for the sake of the future.
[/font][/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]ROLE PLAY SAMPLE:Polish a turd, its still a turd.
[/font][/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]ALL ABOUT YOU:
Name: Call me whatever, Morey is fruitful this season.
Age: 20
RP Experience: 1,000,001 days.