Post by Ryan Latorren on Feb 12, 2013 7:57:07 GMT -8
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RYAN LaTORREN
PLAYED BY : Eric Christian Olsen
THE CHARACTER
FULL NAME: Ryan Nicholai LaTorren
NICK NAMES: “Reel Man” (friends)
PREFERRED NAME: Ryan
AGE: 27
GENDER: Male
OCCUPATION: College student, indie film director
HOME REGION: Southwest
PREFERRED WEAPONS: Colt M1991A1; any light bladed weapons.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Ryan stands at an even 5’8”, and has a thin, almost lanky appearance. His blond hair is about jawbone-length and shaggy, giving him a bit of a laid-back appearance.
Due to the production accident just before the outbreak, Ryan has been forced to leave his broken left arm in a cast, giving him a major handicap when fighting against the dead. Though he has gotten used to using only one hand, it makes it difficult to wield larger weapons such as rifles.
PERSONALITY: While he isn’t the best shot, Ryan is about as loyal as any friend could be. Which would count for a lot if any of his friends were still alive and not… y’know, undead. Regardless, he tries to leave a good impression on anyone he meets, as you never know who you might have to depend on later; doubly true now that the world’s gone to hell. Though some may find him naive for believing such things in such a desperate time, Ryan is anything but. He’s surprisingly mature under the humor-seeking front that he likes to put up to dissipate stress, and knows a thing or two about the world around him.
For all of his maturity, Ryan has a difficult time taking control of a situation, preferring instead to leave his opinion out in the open and backing off. This leads to him trying to remove himself from a difficult situation simply because he doesn’t feel like he can deal with it. Often times, this lack of confidence can end up hurting his relationships more than he can build them.
LIKES
- Filmmaking
- Things from the 80’s
- Being witty
- Anything with corn
DISLIKES
- Having to kill things
- Flying / high places
- Heat, despite living in LA…
- Angry people
HISTORY BEFORE: Ryan was born into a privileged family. His father was a wealthy CFO in a Fortune 500 company in Chicago, his mother was a saleswoman who managed to retire at 40, and yet never seemed to have time for her only son. His father, on the other hand, managed to juggle his demanding job and spending time with his boy. At an early age, Ryan developed a fascination with going to the movies, and each weekend, he would beg his father to take him to see the newest blockbusters. Most of the time, his begging paid off.
His cinematic interests only progressed further from there. In high school, he expressed an interest in writing and directing his own films, and together with support from a group of friends, produced a short action film for a local film festival. While it didn’t receive any awards, it was a hit at his high school. Ryan earned the nickname “Reel Man” after the festival, and with the extra support, was able to produce a second, more successful film, which managed to win second place at the same festival two years later.
However, Ryan’s relationship with his father during his last year of high school was beginning to show signs of strain. After several lengthy business trips and the disappearance of Ryan’s mother, his father had become increasingly bitter at home, to the point that he had begun to push his son away. Wanting no part in whatever turmoil his father’s business was putting him through, Ryan used his plentiful college fund to leave for California with his filmmaking buddies after his 21st birthday. On arrival, the group spent a good deal of their time finding work and getting together to write scripts that for the most part, would probably never go anywhere.
Then, their big break came. The Independent Arts Festival was right around the corner, and an enthusiastic production team had written what they’d deemed their best script yet. They’d managed to get a low-budget sponsorship from a local restaurant in exchange for featuring the establishment in the movie, and all that was left to do was begin shooting. The conceptual film was destined to be a goldmine.
But as luck would have it, a freak accident involving the lighting equipment ended with Ryan being rushed to the hospital, his forearm broken and shoulder dislocated. On arrival, the hospital was packed with people with extreme feverish symptoms, some of whom had already expired. Ryan was in such pain at the time, it didn’t really occur to him to think about what was happening, but as fate would have it, the young man would be forced to stay there for a bit longer than he expected…
DURING APOCALYPSE: Ryan awoke the next morning in his bed to screaming outside. Loud, horrid sounds filled the halls outside; the small window on the door was smeared with blood. Still in a decent amount of pain, Ryan left his bed just in time to have a man burst into the room, covered in blood. At first, it appeared that the doctor had just finished some kind of amputation, but when he attacked, Ryan had the presence of mind to defend himself with a set of operating tools until the infected doctor tumbled out the 5th-story window.
Still not understanding the situation, Ryan found the halls no less disturbing. Corpses now prowled the hospital grounds, feasting on the remains of nurses and patients. Slowly, he weaved his way through with only a scalpel for protection, taking care not to alert the preoccupied dead… which worked for all of about two minutes, when an overweight nurse caught him trying to sneak down the stairway.
The situation obviously out of his control, Ryan ditched stealth to make a mad dash for the exit. After escaping the hospital, he found himself in a very deserted uptown Los Angeles. By that point, he had an idea of what had happened, and immediately made his way back to his apartment to find out what had happened to his friends.
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:A stuttered breath escaped from Ryan’s lips. He grasped his pistol, his fingertips dancing down the grip nervously. One of those things was in the apartment. Damn him for settling on a three-room where he couldn’t sneak around it… but he had to get it out of here somehow. If the corpse wasn’t standing between him and the exit, he could lure it outside and shut the door on it… but then he’d be pretty much stuck in here.
He peeked around the corner, a rather apathetic expression on his face. Not that he wasn’t scared shitless; he was. He still hadn't gotten used to this; what kind of freak would? Maybe military, but he certainly wasn't that. But if he freaked out, that thing would be on him like a dog on bacon. And from what he’d seen, it wasn’t like the corpse would leave him alone if he asked nicely. So… the pistol it was, then. Dammit, this used to be some guy. Somebody’s husband or boyfriend or brother or dad or… fuck. Ryan had to keep cool. That’s how you deal with this, right?
… The hell was he supposed to do with the body once he…
Now it was coming toward the kitchen. And thus, there went his options, like he had many to begin with. He heard the thump of a footstep, then a shuffling noise as if it were dragging… oh, the leg. Yeah. The dude’s leg was all mangled, like he’d gotten caught by a very pissed-off lawnmower. At least he couldn’t go “crazyass fast zombie” on him. Another footstep, another drag, another footstep… then came a loud crash of glass and metal on the floor. God, did the guy just knock over the lamp? Aw man, that was a limited-edition.
”… Oh, you cheeky bastard. Have it your way.” Ryan finally stepped around the corner, his good arm holding the M1991 at length. The infected man, now finally realizing there was food, let out a loud slurred groan, flailing his arms forward as he picked up his pace. All Ryan noticed was that the guy looked a bit like Elton John.
After a tense half-second, the hammer clicked back and with an ear-shattering bang, the pianist lookalike dropped with a wet thump, and Ryan covered his ears. Fuck, that was loud. His ears rang, though somewhere in his mind, the humor of the situation started to set in. Did he just shoot Elton John in the face? Probably not, but still. That’d be an interesting way to start a conversation. “Hey, Elton John was a zombie. Don’t worry, I got ‘im.”
… Fuck, he still shot this dude. This guy just lying there, amongst congealed blood and chunks of glass and flesh… Goddammit, he’d have to clean that up. It’d be impossible to get that smell out of the carpet.
He immediately ran back into the kitchen and threw up in the sink.
PLANS: Eventually I hope to have Ryan find a way to reach Chicago to find his father again, though that’s a hell of a distance. For now, I hope to have him find a group where he can survive without driving himself completely mad, or at least someone to show the poor guy how to use that gun before he hurts himself.
ANYTHING ELSE?: FUN FACT: Ryan used to be a robot in another RP. And he looked nothing like Mr. Olsen there.ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I GO BY: dFranks (Franks), though people tend to give me their own nicknames, so whatever. |D
ROLEPLAY LEVEL: Veteran; been about five-six years now. Mostly casual, forum-based RP, occasional live chat RPing.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: What else but the Proboards Support Forum.
PASSWORD: *****
TIME ZONE: UTC-5:00 (Eastern time)
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