Name: Rhea Cain

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Height: 5’ 11”

Appearance:

Rhea is rather tall, standing just an inch shy of 6’, with a fairly muscled build due to many hours spent hauling heavy items. She can appear to be a rather intimidating individual if she wants to. She has tanned skin from being in the sun and freckles speckled across her cheeks and shoulders, as well as some on her arms and torso. Her hair is a dark brown with a red hue, reaching past her shoulders, often tied up in some ponytail or messy bun. She has upturned eyes with blue-green colored irises. Her face is heart-shaped, with well filled soft arched brows and thin lips.

She wears whatever is most comfortable for the tasks she is doing, most commonly worn jeans and loose shirts. Often what she wears has patches of off-color fabric from repairs. Frequently she has a bandanna around her neck to cover her mouth when working in areas with intense scents or large amounts of dust. She also commonly has a worn black army jacket she keeps either on her body or tied around her waist. It carries some sentimental value, mostly due to her having it for many years.

Personality:

Most would consider Rhea to be strong-willed, as she can be incredibly stubborn and doesn’t like to be ordered about. Normally she is a fairly sociable person and enjoys talking to others, though she is more favorable of simply listening to their stories. She is private and greatly dislikes talking about herself, usually changing the subject of the conversation whenever a question about herself is asked. She certainly isn’t friendly to those she doesn’t see as trustworthy, usually acting far more cold and on guard than usual. Her trust is harder to gain than to lose, spare the few occasions when she sees no reason to not trust someone. When meeting someone new she can act completely different from person to person, depending on the situation and how the person presents themselves. She has a tendency to be fairly blunt, speaking what's on her mind without considering how the other person may react to it.

She has a tendency to become hyper focused on any tasks she wants to get done, usually making intelligent decisions that help the task be completed quicker while doing so. She is fairly good at assessing risks and deciding the best possible course of action, though her skill fails when under stress. Stress is probably her weakest point, as she tends to freeze up when needing to make split-second choices or choices that will have a large impact - thus why she tends to keep to herself for the most part.

Flaws: While Rhea is open to talking to people (for the most part), she doesn’t have a lot of experience beyond brief conversations. Due to this she is fairly oblivious to social cues that others may easily recognize.

Likes: Reading (it's how she keeps herself entertained), keeping busy, hearing stories, improving or expanding her skills, honesty, sitting under trees in the shade

Dislikes: Talking about herself, doing nothing/being unable to do anything, lies/liars, heat (particularly being directly hit by the suns rays),

Strengths: She is quite strong, mostly due to her frequently hauling around heavy objects. She has good reflexes, and tends to act on instinct in many situations. Most of the time she is fairly good at judging someone's intentions, though at other times she can be completely clueless. She has good aim, but is more used to using knives and bows than rifles and pistols. If she has to use a gun, she prefers pistols due to their more movement-free nature.

Weaknesses: In a conversation, she is pretty much useless if someone is trying to drop hints. Someone could be indirectly asking for help and it would take her a long time to realize. She is also awful in stressful decisions where she needs to make an important decision, and will freeze up.

Fears: While Rhea is perfectly fine with being alone most of the time, she fears that she will never have anyone besides herself. She will often search for social interaction and try to grow close to someone, then will promptly become closed off once achieving what she wants. She’s also terrified of thunderstorms, particularly the thunder, as she enjoys watching the lightning but freaks out when the thunder follows.

Other/Notes: Rhea “owns” a secluded ranch. When she found it, it was fairly run down and most of the animals were loose in the area around it. She repaired it herself, and uses it to grow fruits and vegetables to provide to the rebel group or any settlements in the area that wish to avoid joining the organizations that control the cities.

Name: Tobias Greyson

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Height: 6'1"

Appearance: Tobias has a muscular but slim build that would most easily be described as a runner's build. He is wiry but not scrawny, and is strong but not unusually so. He has a skintone that is on the paler side, but has aquired a light tan over the years due to his duties keeping him outside for a majority of his time. He has a few pale scars in various places on his body, including one on his face from a particularily nasty split lip that didn't heal well. His blond hair is slightly wavy, on the shaggy side and has a habit of getting in his face. His eyes are dark brown and have a permanently thoughtful, almost sad look about them. He has fairly upturned features, a round nose and a generally young look about him that leads many to believe that he is years younger than his actual age.

He is usually wearing dark pants of some durable material, be it denim, canvas or something similar, and his preferred footwear is hiking boots or tough running shoes. His shirts are generally worn tanktops or T-shirts, and he carries a light scarf and goggles with him at all times in case he gets caught in a storm while scouting. His jacket is simple but durable, brown fabric and leather with a bit of sheepskin around the neck and cuffs.

Personality: Tobias has always been on the quieter side and generally fairly laid back, though if he feels strongly enough about something he will dig his heels in and can be extremely stubborn. He finds it hard to trust anyone, partially because of a betrayal that cost the lives of half of his family and partially because there is so much deceit and backstabbing in the ranks of the Wraiths, the group he infiltrated and has been living with for the past several years. His loyalty is hard to gain but once you have it, there is almost nothing he wouldn't do for you. He doesn't have many friends so is fiercely protective of the few he has. His young appearance has made it difficult to have anyone take him seriously and that has led to him developing a few rather "old soul" traits in an effort to balance it out. He has a dry sense of humour and can be very sarcastic, causing many to dismiss him as an annoying smart-ass and nothing more, when in reality he is very perceptive and doesn't miss much. This skill has helped to elevate him through the ranks of the Wraiths and gained him entry into high level meetings which provide vital information for him to pass to the rebels.

Tobias tends to keep a mask of neutrality with all but his closest friends, being careful to keep his true self hidden until he knows that he can actually trust them. This can cause him to come off as arrogant or aloof, especially if he lets his dislike for certain individuals leak through. Years surrounded by the Wraiths have caused him to develop a carefully built, cold facade that is very different from his actual character, but few people know it. He likes to imagine himself as a protector of sorts, both of his friends and of the innocent people who can't protect themselves.

Flaws: As mentioned above, Tobias is fiercely protective of his friends, and this has caused issues in the past. He has a tendency to abandon reason and become downright reckless when they are in harm's way, going so far as to put himself in a self-sacrificial role at times. He also has issues with double standards, corrupt authority and unfairness. This isn't neccessarily a flaw, per se, but his inability to keep his mouth shut at times is. Tobias is fully capable of planning ahead of time yet often chooses to "wing it" - another thing that has earned him reprimands over the years.

Likes: Nighttime, true silence, music, thoughtful gestures, animals, the wind, warm rain, time spent with close friends, warm evenings, the sun (to a certain extent)

Dislikes: Dishonesty, sand in his clothes, lack of personal space, rats, tight spaces, lies and/or manipulation, lack of personal hygeine (he knows we're in the aftermath of an apocalypse and amenities aren't what they used to be, but some kind of effort would be appreciated.)

Strengths: Tobias is good at improvising, quick thinking, using his environment to his advantage, entering/exiting places unnoticed, endurance, dexterity, treating wounds/sicknesses with limited supplies, calming people in stressful situations.

Weaknesses: Not thinking things through, letting emotions take control, disobeying authority (even if he's right), impulse control, diplomacy, lack of trust, anything that requires greater-than-average strength, large weapons (he tends to use long range weapons, and knives or daggers for close combat)

Fears: Tobias is scared of losing people he cares about, and he is also terrified of being trapped/being unable to free someone he loves. He frequently has nightmares involving someone trapped in a burning building/cave-in/under ice and being unable to save them, and as a result has developed the habits of never sleeping in the same room as another person, and of not allowing himself to make attachments.

Rhea found the day to be quite pretty, with sunlight streaming through the forest’s canopy and casting dappled splotches of light across the ground. Surrounded by the sounds of birds and the soothing bubbling of a creek, it was easy to forget what a mess the world was. She had leaned herself against the trunk of a large willow, resting for a few minutes before continuing with her tasks. Repeating the same tasks daily was far from entertaining, but it made everything easier. Occasionally, there were tasks that required more effort, such as repairing parts of the house or the barn. Others were almost enjoyable, such as scouting. She never really found anything except wildlife, with the chore being more of an activity of leisure. Sometimes she wanted something interesting to happen, but she heard of plenty of interesting things from others.

Now and then someone would visit her farm, usually one of the few people that lived nearby, or someone associated with the rebels. She gave them supplies, and in return, simply asked for a story. The travelers always told the most interesting tales, and sometimes she was reluctant to send them on their way. Having another to help around would make everything a great deal easier. However, the risks outweigh the benefits, at least in her eyes. One human could create plenty of errors, add in more, and they could become unmanageable. Rhea also preferred the quiet. Often she could almost forget that they were amidst an apocalypse. If only she could stay in that state of blissful ignorance. Doing so wouldn’t help anyone else, but at least she’d be helping herself.

A rather impatient sounding snort came from behind her and she turned her attention to the mare, tilting her head. “I suppose the break is over then?” Rhea didn’t know why she bothered talking to the mare, but sometimes it seemed the mare almost understood her human counterpart. It was a silly idea, but it led to plenty of amusing interactions. With a sigh, Rhea got up from the ground, quickly brushing dirt off of her denim bottoms. Not that there was much use to the action. They were the more worn of her clothing items, hues faded from a bold blue to a lighter gray-blue. Which made them well suited for doing work, given half her jobs left her a dirty mess. For once she was actually fairly clean, as none of the tasks she’d completed required crawling in the dirt or whatnot. The next of her tasks would continue that trend, as all she had to do now was ride about the woods to see if anyone had wandered across her land. Rarely did anyone ever actually find her place by chance. She could only recall a couple of occasions where that happened, and they occurred long ago. It was tucked deep into the woods, with many roads being long overgrown and swallowed by the forest. No one really suspected there to be someone living way out here.

Rhea made her way over to the mare, checking the girth and other various straps before mounting. She’d named the black creature Nyx, a name she’d drawn from one of her books, one of her more creative naming choices. She cued for the mare to move, guiding her down one of the many game trails. Riding in the woods was certainly calming, and occasionally she’d find something unusual and be able to satisfy her curiosity. Sometimes it was animals, and on other occasions it had been old structures that may have been ruins long before the apocalypse. Venturing outside these woods was always a tempting idea to her, except she’d risk losing the few things she had. She was satisfied with what she had, the want for something new only a thought lingering in the back of her mind. Besides, she had more important things to do here than indulge her curiosity.

At the beginning of their route, everything seemed normal, the pair surrounded by the usual sounds of the forest. The calls of birds, the rustling in the undergrowth, the occasional bubbling of the various creeks and small streams were all usual sounds. A few times she glimpsed movement in the distance, birds taking flight or deer bounding away. Then something drew the mare’s attention, freezing in place as she fixated on something ahead of them. There were few times when the mare was surprised, usually meaning nothing good. It took far longer for Rhea to realize what Nyx had spotted, the faint sounds of voices reaching her long before her eyes made out moving figures. She was quick to slide from the mare’s saddle, clucking her tongue to draw the mare’s attention and pulling her into a denser portion of undergrowth. For a moment Rhea was unsure what to do, crouched on the ground beside her horse. From the brief glimpse she’d got, it appeared to be a group. Groups were unusual, even with travelers. At most, they were pairs or families, but this lot seemed to all be adults. She couldn’t really make assumptions from this distance, her few glimpses out of the bushes failing to provide more information. She needed to get closer if she were to decide what to do, though the prospect of being spotted nearly stopped her from doing so.

With caution she approached, keeping low to the ground. She didn’t get too close, staying a decent distance away, and peered around a tree to watch the group move by. All adults, as she’d expected, but armed as well. Travelers were hardly ever armed, and an entire group certainly never was. That left her limited choices about who they could be, deciding it was not someone associated with the rebels. They knew where she lived, and wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly around the forest. That left them to be someone associated with the cities, some group likely looking for supplies to steal and bring back to their ruins. She doubted they would find her, yet she couldn’t be certain. They wouldn’t come all the way out here to just leave with nothing.

She returned to her mare and quickly headed back to the house, leaving the mare hitched in the trees behind it. Inside the structure she set about hiding anything that could clue that someone lived there, hiding away any supplies. If they found the house she wasn’t planning to be there, but she was going to do what she could to keep any of her supplies from being stolen. Anything she did wasn’t certain to succeed, as they could still find everything, but at least she could make doing so more difficult. All her supplies were stashed in a cellar, with the only entrance being in the house. If she hid the door they may not find it, though hiding a door was a troublesome task. Then there were all the items that hinted someone lived there, hiding the lot of them proving to be a more tiresome task than it should be. Eventually she heard movement outside, knowing her time was up.

The farm seemed completely deserted. The group had passed several outbuildings on the way in, all run down and partially or fully collapsed, and both the garden and orchard were wildly overrun and clearly left untended for months if not years.

Tobias adjusted his grip on his gun as he shifted position, trying to get a better look at the house across the clearing. It had taken the better part of the morning to find the place, and even now he wasn’t sure it was actually the main house. The small farmhouse was in better condition than the other buildings he’d seen so far, but it was by no means in good repair. Ivy crept up the sides and through a few of the windows, a section of fencing had collapsed at some point, and the whole place had the distinct lack of activity that usually signified occupancy. And yet…..

He squinted. There, beside the back door. A stack of freshly chopped wood. Someone did live here after all, but they had gone to great lengths to disguise their presence. He had no doubt that whoever lived here was watching him, probably with a rifle aimed at his head. He would have much preferred to take a few more minutes and get a better read on the situation. But the group would come looking for him soon. He didn’t have much time. So he checked his gun once more then stood and crept toward the door. The forest around him sounded completely normal, birds chirping and trees rustling….yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap.

Overgrown grass and weeds tugged at his legs as he stepped over the fence and slowly approached the house. There was no sign of anyone in the windows, no tell tale glint of gunmetal; but he knew better than to just saunter in. That kind of behavior could get you killed. The wood of the porch steps looked fairly solid, but he still tested it before putting his full weight on the stairs. Yes, the homeowner probably knew he was here. But there was no reason to potentially fall through the stairs and cause a commotion.

The planks creaked under his step but held, and Tobias quietly climbed the remaining stairs then crossed the porch to the door. Sweat trickled down the side of his head, soaking his hair and collar. The heat was stifling, even in the shade. He wiped impatiently at his forehead and took a deep breath, then grasped the handle and eased the door open.

Inside the house it was slightly cooler - the thick drapes over the windows blocked out the majority of the sun. Tobias swept the room, ready for an attack. But nothing moved, save for the dust motes slowly swirling in the lone sunbeam sneaking in through a crack in the wall. From the looks of the place it had gone through a rough time. But whoever lived here had done an excellent job of fixing the place up while carefully maintaining the illusion of decrepit neglect. An ingenious form of camouflage, he had to admit. And it was effective - they had overlooked this place for months. Probably would have gone on indefinitely if Bradler hadn’t heard a horse whinny as he passed by on his return from a scouting mission last week. Horses didn’t tend to survive on their own these days, especially with the meat shortages that had happened. Which meant that someone was caring for it.

He moved into the kitchen, checking the corners before stepping fully into the room. The kitchen was fairly standard for a farmhouse of that era; faded wooden cabinets and a worn linoleum floor. A table and chairs sat to one side of the room, but they hadn’t been used for a long time, judging by the thick layer of dust. A quick check of the nearest cabinet revealed empty shelves, though…..

He narrowed his eyes and looked closer. There was dust inside, yes….but there were also faint outlines where cans and boxes had sat until very recently. Someone was definitely here. He continued to move through the house with his gun at the ready, searching for signs of life. There was nothing to suggest that anyone lived here, or had lived here in a long time. Almost nothing, that is. Whoever lived here had been very effective about removing the evidence, but it seemed they had been rushing in a couple spots. Besides the outlines in the dust, the edge of a rug was flipped up, an axe was leaning against the wall at the end of a hallway, and there was a faint bootprint just inside the front door.

Tobias moved into the living room and was once again greeted with nothing. He didn’t want to risk calling out in case someone from his group was nearby…but he had to find them somehow. Standing in the center of the room, he lowered his gun and debated what to do. He’d already checked all the rooms, to his knowledge. But there had to be someplace he’d missed. That or they just weren’t here. Maybe a secret room? He’d already checked the closets, but perhaps there was….wait, there was another door. Behind the couch. He’d assumed it wasn’t in use because of the furniture blocking it, but that’s most likely exactly what was intended. The couch wasn’t hard to move, but the door was locked. Well, that was to be expected.

It only took a few minutes to pick the lock, but even that small delay made him jumpy. He didn’t have much time, and he could feel it slipping away like sand in an hourglass.

Finally the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing a dark interior. Tobias hesitated on the threshold, ready for a trap…but nothing appeared. Musty air wafted past him as he peered into the gloom, unable to make out anything more than a few feet away from him. Damn, he wished he had a light. “Anyone in here?” he asked quietly.