Riley

Name:
Riley

Full Name:
Riley Rory King

Nicknames:
Ry

Age:
20

Current residence:
Formerly Raccoon City College Dorms

Height:
5'7

Weight:
128lbs

Body Build:
Slender

Race/Species:
Human

Skin:
Pale

Gender:
Female

Nationality:
Irish

Ethnicity:
White

Hair:
Red

Eye:
Blue Green Heterochromia iridium

Tattoos/Scars:
Covered in freckles

Left/Right handed:
Left

Overall Health Condition:
Tends to be a bit heavy given her diet of preserved meals and sugar to keep going.

Illnesses (if any):
None

Energy level:
Average

Eating habits:
Whatever she can to survive

Memory:
Decent

Any unhealthy habits:
None notable to mention

General attitude:
Kind and distant given her luck in the city on her own so far.

Character/Personality/Mental/Social Flaws:
Deals with loneliness terribly. Tends to be too trusting putting her at odds with logical decisions.

How does s/he dress:
Before the Outbreak Riley adored cute dresses and comfortable clothes. Now she sticks to practical tank tops, jeans and jackets for protection against bites and the elements.

Style (Elegant, shabby, etc.):
Normal

Hairstyle:
Long but mostly tied up to avoid things grabbing a handful. 

Biggest accomplishment:
Surviving as long as she has on her own.

Leader or follower:
Follower

Patience level:
Too patient

How is s/he perceived by:

->Strangers:
She may seem strange at first as she bumbles around her words trying to not look lost or weak, strangers often quickly figure her out.

->Friends:
Her friends know her to be kind and kind of an idiot when it comes to survival, but she's doing her best.

Types of people s/he doesn’t like or associate with:
Dislikes scary people.

In general:

->Likes:
Calm, Peace, Quiet, to not be alone

->Dislikes:
Angry people.

Favorite:
-> Food/drinks:
Loves Redbull and has come to enjoy canned fruits despite them being mostly mixed with sugary preservatives.

-> Music:
At this point she'll listen to anything if it's not moaning and growling.

-> Animal:
Dogs

Emotional or Logical:
Emotional

Sense of morals:
Riley is genuinely a good person.

Etiquette:
-> In Public:
Polite if not a bit standoffish avoiding confrontation.

-> In Private:
A lot more swearing than normal.

Public appearance:
She tries to avoid being very public unless she knows she's in a safe area.

Affiliations:

-> Past:
Joes MMA Club

-> Current:
None

Peaceful or violent:
Peaceful

Battle Statistics (8 best, 1 worst):
-> Strength:3
-> Defense:5
-> Magic:0
-> Magic Defense:0
-> Speed:4
-> Agility:5
-> Endurance: 6
-> Intelligence:4
Weapons (if applicable):
-> Favored:
A pocket knife she has

-> Proficient:
None

Style of fighting:
Terrible boxing mixed with terrible kick boxing. Decent Jiu Jitsu.

Partner:
None

Allies:
None

Enemies:
None

I wasn't expecting to have to run across the city in a skirt and a bra when the outbreak happened, but there I was. Freshly 18 years old, attending my first college party, running across town with paint covering my body from a crazy frat party. I had hand prints all over me, and neon paint that was catching the black lights at the party. I looked like a proper lunatic running through the streets now as a swarm of Undead chased my out of shape ass down. If it wasn't for the RPD unit that got mauled I would have been a snack.

I remember being out of breath, back against the brick wall of an apartment complex throwing my guts up from the alcohol and from running myself sick, proper lunatic. It must have been days of me wandering around listening to the growling before I found shelter on my own. I stank of sweat and the paint had mostly come off by now from how dirty I was given the places I had to hide to avoid dying. The moment I finally had quiet and safety I remember crying for twenty minutes before I passed out in a sitting position with my face pressed against my knees, it wasn't my finest moment, looking like a child covered in dirt, puke on my shoes, and my hair matted to my face and neck, but I was alive and that's all that mattered. 

Never was I good at anything in life, sure I got to college a bit early but that was mostly because I was a foreigner in the country and they rightly fucked up my scores which put me ahead of my classes. I wasn't dumb, but I wasn't exactly street smart. Calculus is my shit, zombies didn't care. I survived my first year based on luck and put on ten pounds eating chocolate bars and chips for a diet. Who would have thought constantly running through the zombie outbreak would put weight on you, my hips and legs were looking kinda good though given all the work they were putting in, too bad the sexiest gal who would check me out was a heart beat away from chewing my lips off my face rather than kissing them.

My second year wasn't much better given my capture and nearly getting raped and eaten by cannibals. Don't know what I'd of done if it wasn't for that dark haired tattooed gentlemen brutally murdering my attackers with a sword, I didn't say anything to him I just ran when the opportunity arose. He might have saved me but I didn't want to know his plans for me, that was kind of how I survived so far, avoid the population, avoid getting dead.

Going into my third year now I have my grips down. Sure, I piss with my back to the wall and my pistol out, but you can never too careful in this world.