Post by Dmitry Kalinkov on Jan 13, 2013 12:44:51 GMT -8
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DMITRY ALEXEI
PLAYED BY : BRANDON BEEMER
THE CHARACTER
FULL NAME: Dmitry Alexei Kalinkov
NICK NAMES: Dim, The Russian, Swampman (the kids), Ghost (adults in his area of effect)
PREFERRED NAME: Dmitry
AGE: 27
GENDER: Male
OCCUPATION: Weapons instructor in LA
HOME REGION:Southwest
PREFERRED WEAPONS: Remington 7400 30-06
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Gotten into a habit of not shaving daily, so he has stubble. He's got quite the statue, tall and built. He's got tribal tattoo's all down his back, which he hides pretty well. Also, when wandering around, he is usually in his home-made ghillie suit, which is adaptable to any situation, urban or woods. He his stride varies per situation, if silence is key, he will be walking with almost no sound. Casually he walks like any other human being.
PERSONALITY: Personally, he's a cold, and mean zombie sniping machine. He doesn't talk much, and when he does, its something serious. He has a soft spot for women, but who doesn't! But he can be friends with people, they just have to prove their worth. He isn't much of a close quarter type of guy, hence is situation with him being a sniper, sure he can pick off zombies from a maximum of a mile away, but he doesn't have the guts to stay inside buildings for very long. He is also quite the lone wolf, so he wont directly join the military unless the assign him total covert ops.
LIKES
- Snipers
- The promise of one day returning home
- Successful looting missions
- Blowing stuff up
- Messing with Zombies
DISLIKES
- Talking
- Taking orders
- Following
- Being surrounded
HISTORY BEFORE: He was born in Vladiovostok, Russia, surviving with his father by hunting and fishing. The thing is with animals out there, they are easily spooked, so it took years and years before Dmitry was trusted to bring back game as his father grew old. But before his father did get old, his father convinced his son to join the military at age 18. His mother begged for him to stay home, but his father insisted on going, so Dmitry followed his fathers heart, and took the Trans-Siberian railroad all the way to Moscow.
It was tough for him there, living in a much more European Russia, it was alot warmer too, and he couldn't show is Mosin Nagant in public. Once he was taken into the brutal two years of the military, they buffed him up, they smartened him up. He became a killing machine. Rifle tests for him were ball parks, threading bullets through the same hole in the bull's eye with general ease. By his last year, he was allowed to wear the feared red beret, the Spetsnaz beret. He learned Krag Maga, and stayed in the Military for another year.
Once he was relieved of duty, his experience was not. He came back to a broken home, his mother had died of a heart failure, and his father was moved to another home, and when Dmitry visited him, his father barely recognized him. So Dmitry ran, he took all his scraps of money, and paid for a plane ticket to LA, from the city he was once in, the airport only had one plane, and it barely got him there. But he was relieved to be passed through immigration, and finally, into America.
Once he was there, he quickly found himself a job as a guns expert, purchasing a Reminton 7400 for his personal use, and keeping a few glocks for personal security, yes he was very paranoid about America. It was deemed the safest place on earth, but he never really trusted that. And as he secured himself a nice and secure life, he always expanded his sniper knowledge, learning on how to make ghillie suits, move silently, and his accuracy is almost dead on.
The last few months before it all happened, he decided to stock up on ammunition, sure it was expensive, but he was extremely paranoid, considering the amounts of crime and gang violence, you could say that it was justified. People saw him as crazy, and one of those people that would shoot up a school one day, Dmitry actually began to doubt himself before it happened.
They were wrong.
DURING APOCALYPSE: When the illness spread, he had nobody no mourn for, so he was assigned to throw the dead and dieing into ditches, like one would in the black plague. His ghillie suit became feared, a local legend really, of what the kids called "the swamp man". He liked this infamy, but it couldn't save him from when they began to awake. Just as quickly as they began to die, he slipped into the darkness, his apartment stripped clean, and food for months on his military grade rucksack that he saved from his military training.
At first, he was a ghost, slipping in and out of peoples lives, helping them clear the way into a store to raid, People thanked him, calling him nicknames, but one stuck to him, Ghost. He wanted to be a hero to the people still sticking it out in LA, so he began to mark his territory, a pacman ghost would be spray painted on decaying walls and alley ways. These areas were scoped out by him, and where he sat and patrolled, nobody knew.
Some people say he was on the water tower nearby, completely safe from them, and able to slip away into the shadows at a moments notice, others say that he would be anywhere at any time, arguing that the water tower was too dangerous to stay there forever.
Now he plans to spread his territory, hiring street runners to paint the streets with his image, and he has taken the responsibility in training some adults his skills of survival.
His voice deep, his shots go deeper, his position untraceable, just like the bullets from his gun.
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:Dmitry breathed, steadying his Remington with the bipod he found recently in a gun store, It wasn't the exact fit for his rifle, but it was good enough. He saw a small party of armed adults, they looked worried, but they had no reason to be. They seemed to be outsiders, wondering why all of these ghosts were around. He stretched himself out, He was on his infamous water tower, and it was a gentle breeze, he liked the smell up here, quiet, and not reeking with rotten flesh. He continued to watch this party, they seemed like friends, covering each other and watching each others backs, little did they know, they had a sniper on their side.
Thats when one of them tripped, causing a gun to go off, and the sleepers began to wake, they began to freak out, and they ran into a nearby bus, hoping to gun them all down, fools. He watched, as they created more sound, more and more began to awake, most were walkers, but the runners were cut down easily, it would be soon apparent that they would be running out of ammunition. He thought, he could try distractions, or he could help them. He zoomed out a bit, noticing a crashed oil truck, there was a power line running right above it. Fire. Perfect. He focused onto the wire, it seemed wide enough for a few centimeters of error, but he found the range, took a deep one, and fired. The sound was muffled, but not completely, he used a rag to muffle most of the sound, but he would have loved to have a silencer.
That was beside the point, the wire snapped, and the oil that had spilled began to burn, and the walkers on it began to burn, and within a minute or so, an explosion loud and strong enough to wake most within a radius of about a mile rung out. He felt accomplished, he had no danger on him, and now the walkers and runners were completely torn on what to pursue, flesh, or pretty colors. This gave the group time to run, as he saw through the smoke as outlines darted away,
They would live another day.
PLANS: Eventual Martyr
ANYTHING ELSE?: that pretty much sums it up, sorry for the bad example, I thought we had to make up a quick story XD.ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GO BY: Petrov
ROLEPLAY LEVEL: Vetern
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: PBSupport
PASSWORD: *****
TIME ZONE: Eastern
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