User:Amy Flood

Amy Floodis a survivor, originally from Pitneybank, though she's settled with a lovely group called Shed in Quarlesbank.

Unlike so many in Malton, her past was mostly pretty nice. She comes from a thoroughly middle class family from London. Her mother makes jewelry and her father runs a restaurant. She moved to Malton to attend university, where she studied statistics. She was living with her firefighting older brother Billy, who she was separated from toward the beginning of the outbreak.

She's quite certain that, if and when she escapes this awful place, she's going to go back to London, tell her parents she's alive and well, then go on holiday to someplace warm and sunny where she can lay on the beach all day. Then, she'll go back to London, turn her back on mathematics, and open a bakery. In the mean time, however, she's almost content to defend her suburb with her rather mis-matched bunch of friends.

Amy's Journal: Journal:Amy_Flood

Amy's Personal Information

Name: Amelia Caroline Flood

Date of Birth: 14 September, 1986

Physical Description: Amy is, for the most part, absolutely average. Nothing about her appearance really stands out. She is around 5'5", and she weighs approximately 9 stone 9 lbs. Amy's hair is darkish brown. Her eyes are green. Her nose is narrow and straight. She doesn't spend much time outside, so her skin is pale-ish. Her figure is neither repulsive nor exceptionally attractive. She is squishier than she might like around the middle, and less squishy than she'd like around the chest. On the whole, Amy is not unattractive, though it is doubtful anyone would ever objectively describe her as "gorgeous."

History: The evening of September 14th, 1986, Frank Flood led his children, Kate and Billy, into the hospital room occupied by his wife, their mother, Angela. Frank kissed her forehead, then directed his attention to the baby in her arms. Amy Flood was only hours old. She looked just like any other newborn, with a red, squashed face, bug-eyes, and a tuft of light brown hair on the top of her head.

Kate and her parents were enchanted by the squirmy thing. Billy, though, approached the hospital bed, leaned over his new sister, and said, “What is it?”

---

Amy was only weeks old when her father took her into the family’s pub. The barman was particularly excited about meeting little Amy. He was a rather burly man, named Leslie, who looked rather intimidating, but was, in fact, excessively friendly, and he had an epic beard.

Frank passed baby Amy to Leslie. He cradled the infant in his arms and cooed. Amy didn’t care. This was her first encounter with facial hair. She was confused. She grabbed a bit of beard and pulled with all her might, which, of course, at only a few weeks old, wasn’t much. The barman thought this was absolutely adorable, and started waggling an index finger at her, as well as cooing. Amy continued to pull and tug and yank, until finally, she decided that the best thing to do with a fistful of hair was vomit on it.

---

Billy decided that, maybe, his baby sister wasn’t something to hate. She had gotten considerably cuter in the months since her birth, and was now smiling and making odd baby noises, and she was actually kind of fun to play with. But, that didn’t mean all was well. This tiny thing had usurped his position as the youngest Flood child. Now, Billy was not the brightest crayon in the box, but he had friends who were middle children. From what his friends said, he was pretty sure neither of his parents was going to pay any attention to him ever again. He could starve to death, and they wouldn’t notice.

He was pretty much amazed when they continued to treat him exactly as they had before. Of course, they were often busy with Amy, but they still talked to him, hugged and kissed him, and, when they had a spare moment, they still played with him. Just...less than before.

So, Billy reluctantly gave up his dislike for the tiny eating-sleeping-crying-laughing-pooping machine, and vowed to be nice, as long as she was.

About Amy's creator...

My name is Sam. I am kind of Alaskan, kind of Mississippian. I go to art school. I am kind of a dork. I knit and crochet semi-often. I am the sort of person who prefers skipping to walking, and likes to sing loud and off-key for no reason at all. I think physics is, like, the awesomest thing ever. I vlog with some friends... I'm the Sunday person, just so you know.

Template Things

	Good Grooming
	This user or group practices good grooming habits, and recommends that other Malton survivors do too.