User:Red Dawson
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Description
As his namesake, Red has a mess of naturally dark auburn hair on his head, probably the brightest color that you'd ever see on his person.. Standing slight taller than 6 feet, his lanky build is covered with what could be the contents of a donations box at some mall or church. His grey over-sized flannel and t-shirt have been worn and shredded from constant use, revealing a piece-meal armored vest - not so much the kind worn by the military or police but a combination of BMX and skateboard padding. Jeans faded and torn, sneakers scuffed and stained, the only thing that makes him stand out from the homeless of a normal city is the full pockets and bulges under his clothes: The desperation that can be seen at times hiding behind his relaxed demeanor shows that he isn't afraid to use what he has.
Personality
Red tends to keep to himself. Sometimes, that is all you have that you can trust. Despite this, he opens up on occasion and tries to be helpful without being too intrusive. Yet, the larger the amount of individuals around him, the more he slips back into his reclusive nature.
Background
Growing up on the west side of Malton was as normal as any other: You play, go to school, get a job, get into relationships, plan to settle down. And then everything goes south and the next thing you know, you're living in some B-flick slasher flick where the dead walk the streets. He had dreams of becoming an athlete but, when he wasn't picked to become a player in the minors, he became an athletics coordinator over at Anderson Row, occassionally helping out at Godsland Street when one of the instructors was out. He studied on line and did most of his work at home. This was a blessing when the outbreak hit Malton, plenty of food and supplies, but eventually those run dry and there comes a time when you have to remove those boards from the door and venture out.
There was no other way to accept it. He couldn't contact his folks, his friends. They were already lost to him. It was just him. He wandered the streets, holing up here and there, just scrambling to survive. Luckily he evaded most of the changed citizens and found shelter here and there with survivors. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long. Inner tension, zombie attacks, conflicting interests, and the insane. You have to learn what you can to survive. You have to acknowledge the situation. When it comes to living you have to live. And when it comes to dying, or whatever that state of shambling existence is called in Malton, you have to hold on to the only thing you have: yourself.
