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Description

Gwenn Foster | Ranchers | ALIVE{xp tracker: angleic.deviantart.com/art/Gwe… }
{heart tracker:}
App art xp = 20
✖ B A S I C S:
. Name: Gwenn Foster
. Age: 24
. Height: 5'7
. Build: athletic
. Gender: Female
.Accent: Southern

. Sexual Orientation: Lesbian
. Relationship Status: single

. Primary Weapon: Spiked metal baseball bat
. Secondary Weapons: N/A

. Faction: Ranchers
. Rank: Homemaker

✖ S T A T S:
. HP: [40] 40
. ATK: [30] 30
. DEF: [25] 25
. SPD: [25] 25

✖ P E R S O N A L I T Y:
{ Dependable | Adventurous | Confident | Focused | Irreligious | Quick to anger | Passive-aggressive | Unapproachable | Tactless }
Gwen's personality can easily be described as that of a free spirit who doesn't take any crap from nobody. She has a hidden tenderness that comes from her mother, covered by her own spin on the thick shell her father used to wear in an effort to avoid emotion. Due to her rough childhood, she may have a tendency to lash out or act unreasonably because she wasn't ever really taught how to deal with emotional damage. She's quite bright, and can generally answer any insults with a snappy remark. However, it's probably best to never, ever, for any reason, make her mad because she will often seek some sort of revenge to make things right. She may not appear to be mad and will often be passive aggressive but do watch your back if you get on her bad side, it may seem like it didn't offend her but it really did. You can count on Gwenn to try her best and at the end of the day keep everyone safe, shes very focused on her tasks and goals. She finds those who are hardcore religious people to be too much for her and she thinks its a load of crap to say the least. Often times she comes off as unapproachable due to her tattoos and piercings as well as hard set eyes and sharp features. Shes very confident in her body and this often boots her confidence, but just like everyone else she has her ups and downs.

. Character Alignment: Chaotic Good

. Strengths: Very good at fighting, self confidence, brave
. Weaknesses: Some abandonment issues, has trouble getting attached to other people

. Quirks: Bites the side of her cheek when nervous, likes to play with her tongue piercing when shes in a good mood or is in deep thought.
. Hobbies: Sharpshooting (ok at it), sometimes sings like her mother used to
. Skills: Melee combat
✖ H I S T O R Y:Total: 1408
Xp earned: 28

Gwenn was born in the Southeast somewhere, in some little one horse town no one would ever remember or care about if they drove past it. Back when she was little they all lived in the farmhouse, the big yellow one with the chipped white fence and the shed where they kept the animals during the winter. It was just her mama, papa, and Tommy. Even now, if she closes her eyes and focuses on it, she can still picture everything about her mother. She had this laugh like pure sunshine, she looked like she'd fallen out of a divine painting, and when she sang, it was like an angel was singing instead. The songs were probably the most vivid memory of her, from when Gwenn was a baby and mama had sang her to sleep, or whenever there was a thunderstorm and they'd both sit on the porch and watch the rain fall, and Gwenn would fall asleep with her head in her lap and she'd sing a sad song to tie it all together. Tommy was her older brother, he was around 5 years older than her. He liked picking on her when they were younger but Gwenn adored her older brother to bits no matter how much he teased her and she knew he loved her just as much.

  Then came the end of it. One day, papa came home running, frantic. He had a gash on his forehead and he started packing a suitcase and screamed for Gwenn and Tommy to do the same. He said they had to go, to run, and that they could never come back. They followed him without question, out into the old muscle car he kept under a green sheet in the garage. The pickup truck he usually drove was gone, and no matter how many times she asked where mama was he wouldn't answer. They went to live with grandma, in a little sky blue trailer with pink plastic flamingos in the yard.

  For a while, she'd ask him where mama went whenever she could, but as the years passed it became something she decided it was best not to question. Papa started to drink a lot, and started working late, sometimes he wouldn't come home until morning. Tommy ended up enlisting in the war once he turned 18, Gwenn had a lot of respect for him after the day he was deployed. Her grandma, papa and herself cried a lot that day. Otherwise Grandma was always either asleep on the couch with her black and white TV running with the volume all the way up or working in the garden out back with her African daisies. Finally, when she turned sixteen, papa came home and they sat on the porch and talked. She could tell he was crying, and his breath smelled more like whiskey than usual. He apologized for everything, and he promised he'd try to be a better father if he could. But then the next day, he left. He never came back, and she didn't feel much about it, that seemed to be the way things should have been, if he was never going to be around anyway, it was better if he just left for good. She found out the next day that Tommy had been killed in action and she was devastated, there was nothing she could do but move on.

  After that, Grandma taught her a few things about defending herself, because something about how "a girl without her daddy should know how to use her teeth." So, grandma taught her everything about personal defense. For a little old lady, she had quite the arsenal. Throwing knives, axes, a baseball bat, a shotgun, brass knuckles, a revolver, and god knows what else, were what grandma described as "the tools of the trade." She taught Gwenn how to use them well, but Gwenn's favorite was always the baseball bat. She never knew why, maybe it was that sort of classic charm that comes with something as all-American as a piece of sports equipment being used as a weapon.

  One day, there was an unspoken sense of urgency for Gwenn to leave and go off on her own. There were no goodbyes, except a subtle nod from grandma as Gwenn walked out the door, a duffel bag of personal belongings under one arm, and the bat under the other. She took the first bus to the nearest city, and got a job as a dancer. Well, at least that's what the job listing stated, and in reality she was a glorified cocktail waitress who rarely wore much more than a lace bra, fishnets, and a faux leather mini skirt. She'd get up on stage and a bunch of wasted blue collar construction workers would throw dollar bills at her, she never cared for their looks and stares as she danced practically naked in front of them. At least it paid the bills for her tiny apartment with the bullet hole in the wall from the last occupant, and the neighbors she could hear every night through the walls.

  She had just come home from the grocery store sometime after her 24th birthday when every channel on TV was going mad about some outbreak, and there was all this footage of people being eaten, eaten, in the streets. Everyone called it the end of the world. She left exactly as she had left grandma, with her duffel bag and the bat, off into a future she was afraid to face but knew she could probably survive. (My pal Purple-Pelican helped me out and wrote this for me, we brainstormed on it)

-Current day-
*SLIGHT GORE WARNING*
One evening Gwenn noticed that the small town she was shacked up in was deserted of walkers and other zombies. She found this very intriguing. She proceeded with great caution as she saddled her mare and set off to find where the walkers were off to, her duffel bag under her arm and her bat in her hand. Gwenn had found some walkers walking in a group, there were a few groups every couple of yards from each other. She took them out when she needed to as she followed the so called 'trail' of zombies.
   A decent ways into the woods Gwenn comes along a broken fence where the walkers are getting in, she quickly sets off a ways following the fence. She comes across a blonde woman who had run out of arrows and was trying to defend herself from a group of biters. Thats what Gwenn preferred to call the zombies. Dismounting quickly, Gwenn jumps the fence coming up on one of the biters. She swings the metal spiked bat and makes contact with the things head, quickly pulling the bat out of the mushy head and swung the bat once more and easily bashed the walkers head in. She continued to take them out until she made it to the woman and turned so her back was facing the blondes. She continued to swing her metal bat and take the zombies down until there were none around them.
   Retrieving her horse, she quickly offered her hand to the woman "You can call me Gwenn" She huffs out while making sure there weren't any biters around. "Lee" the blonde responded as she took Gwenn's hand and got onto the horse. Gwenn brought her back to the house where she could get another quiver of arrows. Gwenn stuck with Lee and helped her out around the ranch and covering her when she needed it.
   Later that night when the Ranch was secure, Lee approached Gwenn on the porch of the farm house. "Thanks for saving my skin out there" Lee offered a smile, Gwenn nodded and rested the bat down against the boards of the porch floor "Anytime" she responded. Lee nodded and ran a hand through her hair "We've got an empty place in the bunkhouse if you'd like to stay a few nights?" she offers. Gwenn looks at Lee with shock across her face, it's quickly replaced with a blank look "Sure, thank you" she replies.
   After getting situated in her bed she lay there awake, thinking about the time she spent alone surviving this epidemic. She looked around the bunkhouse, noting the other tired ranchers, they had all fought well to keep the Ranch well protected. Gwenn wanted to be like them, to have someplace to belong to, someplace or someone she could defend with her life, something she could call home.
✖ C O M P A N I O N S:
. Name: Hawk
. Breed: Mustang
. Sex: Mare
. Personality: tba
. Design: CentauriStables

Description

Gwenn Foster | Ranchers | ALIVE{xp tracker: angleic.deviantart.com/art/Gwe… }
{heart tracker:}
App art xp = 20
✖ B A S I C S:
. Name: Gwenn Foster
. Age: 24
. Height: 5'7
. Build: athletic
. Gender: Female
.Accent: Southern

. Sexual Orientation: Lesbian
. Relationship Status: single

. Primary Weapon: Spiked metal baseball bat
. Secondary Weapons: N/A

. Faction: Ranchers
. Rank: Homemaker

✖ S T A T S:
. HP: [40] 40
. ATK: [30] 30
. DEF: [25] 25
. SPD: [25] 25

✖ P E R S O N A L I T Y:
{ Dependable | Adventurous | Confident | Focused | Irreligious | Quick to anger | Passive-aggressive | Unapproachable | Tactless }
Gwen's personality can easily be described as that of a free spirit who doesn't take any crap from nobody. She has a hidden tenderness that comes from her mother, covered by her own spin on the thick shell her father used to wear in an effort to avoid emotion. Due to her rough childhood, she may have a tendency to lash out or act unreasonably because she wasn't ever really taught how to deal with emotional damage. She's quite bright, and can generally answer any insults with a snappy remark. However, it's probably best to never, ever, for any reason, make her mad because she will often seek some sort of revenge to make things right. She may not appear to be mad and will often be passive aggressive but do watch your back if you get on her bad side, it may seem like it didn't offend her but it really did. You can count on Gwenn to try her best and at the end of the day keep everyone safe, shes very focused on her tasks and goals. She finds those who are hardcore religious people to be too much for her and she thinks its a load of crap to say the least. Often times she comes off as unapproachable due to her tattoos and piercings as well as hard set eyes and sharp features. Shes very confident in her body and this often boots her confidence, but just like everyone else she has her ups and downs.

. Character Alignment: Chaotic Good

. Strengths: Very good at fighting, self confidence, brave
. Weaknesses: Some abandonment issues, has trouble getting attached to other people

. Quirks: Bites the side of her cheek when nervous, likes to play with her tongue piercing when shes in a good mood or is in deep thought.
. Hobbies: Sharpshooting (ok at it), sometimes sings like her mother used to
. Skills: Melee combat
✖ H I S T O R Y:Total: 1408
Xp earned: 28

Gwenn was born in the Southeast somewhere, in some little one horse town no one would ever remember or care about if they drove past it. Back when she was little they all lived in the farmhouse, the big yellow one with the chipped white fence and the shed where they kept the animals during the winter. It was just her mama, papa, and Tommy. Even now, if she closes her eyes and focuses on it, she can still picture everything about her mother. She had this laugh like pure sunshine, she looked like she'd fallen out of a divine painting, and when she sang, it was like an angel was singing instead. The songs were probably the most vivid memory of her, from when Gwenn was a baby and mama had sang her to sleep, or whenever there was a thunderstorm and they'd both sit on the porch and watch the rain fall, and Gwenn would fall asleep with her head in her lap and she'd sing a sad song to tie it all together. Tommy was her older brother, he was around 5 years older than her. He liked picking on her when they were younger but Gwenn adored her older brother to bits no matter how much he teased her and she knew he loved her just as much.

  Then came the end of it. One day, papa came home running, frantic. He had a gash on his forehead and he started packing a suitcase and screamed for Gwenn and Tommy to do the same. He said they had to go, to run, and that they could never come back. They followed him without question, out into the old muscle car he kept under a green sheet in the garage. The pickup truck he usually drove was gone, and no matter how many times she asked where mama was he wouldn't answer. They went to live with grandma, in a little sky blue trailer with pink plastic flamingos in the yard.

  For a while, she'd ask him where mama went whenever she could, but as the years passed it became something she decided it was best not to question. Papa started to drink a lot, and started working late, sometimes he wouldn't come home until morning. Tommy ended up enlisting in the war once he turned 18, Gwenn had a lot of respect for him after the day he was deployed. Her grandma, papa and herself cried a lot that day. Otherwise Grandma was always either asleep on the couch with her black and white TV running with the volume all the way up or working in the garden out back with her African daisies. Finally, when she turned sixteen, papa came home and they sat on the porch and talked. She could tell he was crying, and his breath smelled more like whiskey than usual. He apologized for everything, and he promised he'd try to be a better father if he could. But then the next day, he left. He never came back, and she didn't feel much about it, that seemed to be the way things should have been, if he was never going to be around anyway, it was better if he just left for good. She found out the next day that Tommy had been killed in action and she was devastated, there was nothing she could do but move on.

  After that, Grandma taught her a few things about defending herself, because something about how "a girl without her daddy should know how to use her teeth." So, grandma taught her everything about personal defense. For a little old lady, she had quite the arsenal. Throwing knives, axes, a baseball bat, a shotgun, brass knuckles, a revolver, and god knows what else, were what grandma described as "the tools of the trade." She taught Gwenn how to use them well, but Gwenn's favorite was always the baseball bat. She never knew why, maybe it was that sort of classic charm that comes with something as all-American as a piece of sports equipment being used as a weapon.

  One day, there was an unspoken sense of urgency for Gwenn to leave and go off on her own. There were no goodbyes, except a subtle nod from grandma as Gwenn walked out the door, a duffel bag of personal belongings under one arm, and the bat under the other. She took the first bus to the nearest city, and got a job as a dancer. Well, at least that's what the job listing stated, and in reality she was a glorified cocktail waitress who rarely wore much more than a lace bra, fishnets, and a faux leather mini skirt. She'd get up on stage and a bunch of wasted blue collar construction workers would throw dollar bills at her, she never cared for their looks and stares as she danced practically naked in front of them. At least it paid the bills for her tiny apartment with the bullet hole in the wall from the last occupant, and the neighbors she could hear every night through the walls.

  She had just come home from the grocery store sometime after her 24th birthday when every channel on TV was going mad about some outbreak, and there was all this footage of people being eaten, eaten, in the streets. Everyone called it the end of the world. She left exactly as she had left grandma, with her duffel bag and the bat, off into a future she was afraid to face but knew she could probably survive. (My pal Purple-Pelican helped me out and wrote this for me, we brainstormed on it)

-Current day-
*SLIGHT GORE WARNING*
One evening Gwenn noticed that the small town she was shacked up in was deserted of walkers and other zombies. She found this very intriguing. She proceeded with great caution as she saddled her mare and set off to find where the walkers were off to, her duffel bag under her arm and her bat in her hand. Gwenn had found some walkers walking in a group, there were a few groups every couple of yards from each other. She took them out when she needed to as she followed the so called 'trail' of zombies.
   A decent ways into the woods Gwenn comes along a broken fence where the walkers are getting in, she quickly sets off a ways following the fence. She comes across a blonde woman who had run out of arrows and was trying to defend herself from a group of biters. Thats what Gwenn preferred to call the zombies. Dismounting quickly, Gwenn jumps the fence coming up on one of the biters. She swings the metal spiked bat and makes contact with the things head, quickly pulling the bat out of the mushy head and swung the bat once more and easily bashed the walkers head in. She continued to take them out until she made it to the woman and turned so her back was facing the blondes. She continued to swing her metal bat and take the zombies down until there were none around them.
   Retrieving her horse, she quickly offered her hand to the woman "You can call me Gwenn" She huffs out while making sure there weren't any biters around. "Lee" the blonde responded as she took Gwenn's hand and got onto the horse. Gwenn brought her back to the house where she could get another quiver of arrows. Gwenn stuck with Lee and helped her out around the ranch and covering her when she needed it.
   Later that night when the Ranch was secure, Lee approached Gwenn on the porch of the farm house. "Thanks for saving my skin out there" Lee offered a smile, Gwenn nodded and rested the bat down against the boards of the porch floor "Anytime" she responded. Lee nodded and ran a hand through her hair "We've got an empty place in the bunkhouse if you'd like to stay a few nights?" she offers. Gwenn looks at Lee with shock across her face, it's quickly replaced with a blank look "Sure, thank you" she replies.
   After getting situated in her bed she lay there awake, thinking about the time she spent alone surviving this epidemic. She looked around the bunkhouse, noting the other tired ranchers, they had all fought well to keep the Ranch well protected. Gwenn wanted to be like them, to have someplace to belong to, someplace or someone she could defend with her life, something she could call home.
✖ C O M P A N I O N S:
. Name: Hawk
. Breed: Mustang
. Sex: Mare
. Personality: tba
. Design: CentauriStables