Post by daryldixon on Dec 17, 2010 1:51:39 GMT -5
"The world ended... Didn't you get the memo?"
- Amy
- Amy
Your Name:Kris!
How many years roleplaying?: 8 yearsish
"You don't know what it's like out there. You may think you do but you don't. It's only a matter of time."
- Rick Grimes[/center]
Character Name: Daryl Dixon
Age: 36
Hometown:Trenton, Ga
Current Location: Atlanta, GA
Bio:
Daryl is the younger brother of Merle Dixon. They were born and raised in Trenton Georgia, which was a very small mountain town in the Northwestern tip of the state. They were taught to hunt, and make themselves self sufficient. Mudding was a favorite pastime, and going down to the town pond to go frogging late at night.
He wasn't a fan of school, and dropped out during his junior year when he was suspended for fighting anyway. He spent much of his time working odd jobs, being a mechanic for a few years at a local shop before helping a handyman the rest of the years. It wasn't the most flattering life in the world, living in a beat up apartment with his brother getting drunk and partying all night and his days off, and working hard 60 hour weeks the rest of his life. But he loved it. He didn't aspire to be a damn doctor or lawyer, he enjoyed being free to go when he wanted, where he wanted, and getting piss drunk without repercussions.
When the infection broke out, Daryle and Merle went to get their parents but they were already gone. So then they ventured down to where it was supposed to be safe, Atlanta. Bullshit, the walkers seem to be having an undead convention there. So now he was wandering around with Ricks group, his brother has been missing for some time after the pricks locked him up on a roof for losing his temper.
Likes:
Hunting
Mudding
Drinking
Cars
Hiking
Women
Smoking
Dislikes:
Pricks
Being told what to do
Walkers
Being hungry
No alcohol
Strengths:
Hunting
Street smart
Mechanics
Tough
Weaknesses:
Temper
Brother
People in danger
Responsibility (to an extent)
Anything Else?
-Still looking for his brother who is missing his hand...still believes him to be alive
Roleplay Sample:
Daryl was not happy to say the least. They were supposed to go to Atlanta for fucking salvation, bullshit. There was nothing there but walkers, people that stole guns, and more walkers. Then when their camp was attacked they decided to try for round two to go to the CDC. Did everyone else seem to forget his brother was running around there missing his hand? Daryl knew he was alive because only a prick like his brother would jack their van out of spite. Plus, he made it out of that blasted building he was chained too with one damned hand. If that wasn't a hardass he didn't know what was.
So after they escapade out of the CDC from that mad scientist that tried to keep them trapped they were back up in the mountain. He was hungry, he was tired of canned food and candy bars, he wanted some actual meat. Squirrels were getting old, and he could only eat so much fish. "Ay!" He called out to the camp from where he was sitting in the shade. "I'm goin' huntin', I need something to eat besides this canned shit," he said kicking an empty tincan to the side letting it rattle away on the gravel. "The more people come the better it will be to carry, but if ya can't be quiet, forget it. And I would prefer someone who isn't trigger happy," he said staring at a few women in the corner, "Or who have a damned hero complex," he finished staring at the cop and his buddy.
Going into the trailer he pulled out his crossbow from under his bed, and put the back carrier over his shoulder and shoved his ten arrows inside. Bow hunting was much better then shooting, it was quieter, and didn't scare of any other animals that may be around. Lacing up his boots, he grabbed a canteen of water and put it around his neck before emerging once again. "Any takers? Or am I going to be the only one bringing food back here tonight?"
