shas'o vera wrote:Name: russel davis
Age: 29
Physical: 4' 9", shaven brown hair, blue eyes, wearing his dragonforce T-shirt and blue jeans
Abilities: he can use small blades such as hunting knives with some degree of skill, and can use small firearms
History: well, he spent his life always dreaming of being a cop, but when he got the job, it all went down hill, it was nothing but trigger happy judgment, no self control, and eventually got him booted from the PD, he has some skill with small firearms because of this.
he also keeps a trusty hunting knife with him for luck, he never uses it though, he never had a reason.
(hows this guy? is he any better?)
Loads better. Though he is very short. (Most of the characters are at least 5'3"). You might wanna make him taller. Just a suggestion.
OT.
Dave slogged through the snow. Without any plows, it was almost hip deep. At it's lowest, it was mid shin. Everybody in the group was cold and miserable, especially their prisoner, who didn't have an adequte coat.
His head was on a constant swivel, eye's drinking everything in. He tuned out Richard's bitching. He was complaining of lack of food and being cold.
It went on for a few hours before Dave settled on a place to hunker down. He set to work making a better shelter. Using the cover of an over pass, Dave laid tarps down to keep them from getting their asses wet.
He trudged off to where the road gave way to nature, and chooped down a several small, dry branches. He found a small clearing in the snow, filled with piss grass. It was yellowed and dry, perfect for
starting a blaze. He returned and set up a small area for a fie. He started it, and Richard moved for it. he pulled his H&K, impossibly fast.
"Go ahead, Dick. Give me an excuse, Dick." He coked it, and pointed it at Rich's eyes.
He backed away. Dave waved the pistol, the gesture signifing he could go near it. Dave brought it down on the back of his skull. Rich collapsed, close to the fire.
"Harry, you're on wood detail." Dave handed him the hatchet.
"Larry, you're his security. Anything goes down, I want you two guys to haul ass back here, and forget about any twigs. Booking it will keep you warm."
They nodded, and left to fufill their assigned duties.
Dave considered plugging Rich after they left. Considered pinning it on Rich's escape attempt. Decided against it.
He cleaned his guns, something he hadn't had a chance to do. He set about pulling one of the small cooking poits he had and making beans. He set it atop the fire, and waited for them to come back.
A warm meal, even beans, was always welcomed. When they returned, he gave them each half of the beans, tricking them into thinking he had eaten already. They began to refill the water bottles they had, using melted snow and ice. Dave crawled up the overpass, using Rich's rifle with it's ACOG scope to act as a watch. After three hours, he returned, and Harry took his spot. Rich was still out cold.
Dave fell into sleep, and it was not pleasant. He had dreams, of a humanoid scorpion chasing him through a building. He turned a corridor, but it followed, crashing through the walls, seeking his blood.
He risked a glance over his shoulder, and saw why he was so afraid. It was his brother, the one he had not been able to find in the house. It screamed for vengance, for a proper burial.
Dave awoke, and set about collecting more wood to provide wrmth. The fire gave no heat to his chilled bones.
