User:For d

Forman 'For d' Dwight is currently the Superintendant of the NW in the Malton Police Department, and proud member of the Eastonwood Crew.

http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d175/ladydarke/Urban%20Dead/ForD.jpg

(Thanks to ladydarke for the great drawing)

Before the outbreak, For d was a beat cop in the city of Malton. He always worked the night shift, prefering the quiet moments, rather than the bustling life of the day. This was perhaps the only thing that he and his wife, Mary didn't argue about. He lost her to cancer several years before the outbreak, and was never quite the same afterwards. Together they raised two sons. After their mother died, the relationship between father and sons worsened. Grown up, they both left Malton to settle elsewhere. For d buried himself in work, moving steadily towards being burned out. Allthough he was in his late fourties, his face and steel blue eyes seemed to have aged a lot more, hair graying prematurely. He scheduled an early retirement and had a few weeks left when the outbreak came.

The city went to Hell, panic was rampant, crime and looting was on the rise. Old structures and organizations crumbled and he found himself wandering the north western parts of the city: East Boundwood, Yagoton, Brooke Hills... Eastonwood. He found a home in Timewell Drive Police Department. Intially helping to keep the PD and the nearby Patriarch General Hospital secured. Through the depression and the disillusionment he found new meaning in helping others. And when someone informed him the Malton Police Department was being rebuilt, he joined up, hoping to do his part. He continued to protect Timewell Drive PD, first as a constable, then as a sergeant. Eventually he rose to the rank of Inspector of Eastonwood, this suburb where the DEM forge their best steal in the fire that is the Eastonwood Ferals. Along the way, he saw many great members of the DEM rise through the ranks. And even more, he found friendship, a new family in that group known as the Eastonwood Crew.

For d is still old and worn, still gruff and snappy, still emmotionally stumped, maybe even clinical and cynical, but now a new light shines in his eyes. The light of hope, the light of someone who has risen from a too early grave and found a new meaning with his life. And so he battles: One barriacde at a a time, one building at a time, one zombie at a time. Because it's the only way.