^ ITS UNREALISTIC SGPRNGPRNGIPRNIEN
... Says the fish who has yet to read the SU lawl. Don't mind me. ~
But that's me nitpickin' to the ultimate. I've never been a fan of robotics in RPs neither, so I'm horribly biased in that matter. Even though I don't personally like it, I think ya integrated it into the Colonel's character quite well.
I'll be waiting for an opinion, Dirgey.
♦ The Fuchsia City Guru ♦
Well hear goes, I'm still shaking the rust off so bare with me haha
Name: Brian Mackenzie
Appearance: At 6 feet tall and 190 pounds Mackenzie is a few pounds lighter than he was during his playing days at Brown University, although taking one look at his broad shoulders and powerful frame Mac’s athletic pedigree is hard to miss. A mop of messy blonde hair surrounds his bright green eyes and bearded face. His nose is pushed slightly to the right having been broken numerous times. He wears a camouflaged pair of hunters pants, brown boots, a black long sleeve shirt, tactical vest and a tattered, white, Brown University bar hat. A pair of black Oakleys hang from his neck with dark black lenses.
Weapon of choice: Brian is combat certified with the standard issue m9 pistol and m16 assault rifle, and has great experience with a crossbow from growing up and hunting around central Pennsylvania. Although due to the recent zombie uprising Mac has familiarized himself with just about anything he can has been able to get his hands on. But Mac can usually be found with a Barnett carbon crossbow, outfitted with a medium range scope, a m9 on his hip and a combat knife in his right boot.
Personality: Mackenzie is smart, driven, ambitious, and a genuinely good person. The zombie apocalypse has hardened Brian, but much of his personality has stayed the same. He holds out hope that a cure will be found for the virus and the world will return to normal, but he has seen too much to really believe that. He still carries a picture of his wife and two kids, hoping that he will one day find them in this shit hole of a world.
Biography: Upon graduating from Brown University, Brian went to medical school to full-fill his life long dream of becoming a doctor. He married his high school sweet heart, Rachel and fathered two kids, Sarah and Luke. Mac was a newly employed researcher at the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia when the first reports of the virus came in. The government quickly took control and moved Brian and his team to ground zero, Fort Worth, Texas. Unaware of what they were getting into, Mackenzie left his family back at home in Atlanta. A decision he immediately regretted upon arriving at the farmhouse outside of the city where his team was stationed. They quickly discovered the true nature of the virus, and soon the zombie hoard threatened to overpower the outfit of Army Rangers put in charge of defending the lab.
Prolouge: Mackenzie was laying prone his crossbow trained on a nearby bunch of trees when the shooting started. The roar of the .50 cals was unmistakable, Mac slung the bow over his shoulder, grabbed his pack off the ground and ran west towards the setting sun. Keeping pace with Brian’s long strides was an Army Private, Gonzalez or Gonzo as they called him. Gonzo held his pace, a few feet back as they raced out of the woods and into the open field. The two men where searching the woods for “samples” of reanimated flesh, walkers as they called them. Teams of two were sent out whenever new bodies were needed for testing, a spotter and a wingman. The spotter, or in this case Mackenzie, was usually a member of the CDC team who would collect the samples needed while the wingman, Gonzalez, provided fire support.
The farmhouse was in view now as the two men pressed onward. The scene wasn’t good, rows of walkers approached the house from all sides. Both .50 cals sounded loudly, attracting more walkers to the area and more were sure to come like moths to a flame. Two rangers sat atop humvees ripping into the advancing line of undead. Two more rangers provided cover as the medical team loaded their last few months work into the closest truck. The driver was just beginning to put the truck in gear when teeth met his jugular, spraying blood all over the cab. Two more zombies climbed into the front seat clawing and biting into the still warm flesh. The team leader Capt. Miller jumped out of the back of the truck leaving his Sergeant with the 4 CDC researchers. One humvee was already overpowered when Mackenzie and Gonzalez were within shouting distance.
Miller quickly made work of the zombies in the cab with a few bursts of his m4, he pulled his dead comrade, or what was left of him, from the drivers seat and pulled forward to the second humvee where Private Phillips was still working with the .50 cal. Dozens of zombies formed a ring around the two vehicles, more closed in from all sides, the situation looked bleak. Thats when Mackenzie and Gonzo arrived, Gonzalez opened up a path from the truck with his rifle while Mackenzie took aim at a walker who had a hold of Phillips’ arm. Mac steadied his aim and held his breath, firing a well placed bolt into the attackers head. The crossbow was an effective zombie killing weapon because it was lightweight, had good aim, enough stopping power to penetrate the skull, and most importantly was quiet.
“Mac get on the truck,” Capt. Miller yelled as he slammed the truck into gear and accelerated through a group of feasting undead. Mac grabbed onto the drivers side rail, pulling himself up onto the running board and into the bed of the truck
“Phillips give me some fire 2 o’clock!” Phillips stuck his m16 out the passenger side window and began firing three round bursts.
Miller turned his head to shout into the bed of the truck, “Sergeant Robinson, what’s the situation?”
“All precious cargo and assets accounted for si-----”
Robinson was cut off by the trucks sudden loss of momentum. A large figure with bulging mutated muscles had lowered its shoulder into the front of the cab, crushing and twisting steel. Robinson and Miller continued to move forward however, and slammed into the front window breaking glass upon impact. The 7 mean in the back of the truck were thrown forward into the back of the cab. Mackenzie reached out to grab hold of something, but it was too late. His body flew toward head first into the hard metal interior of the truck rendering him unconscious.
Fine SU, lbu. Lookin' forward to seein' ya perform after the rust is shaken off.
Needs moar backstory. Why is this son of a bitch so crazy 'n hellbent on spreadin' madness and chaos? Also, I suggest ya bone up on your weapons knowledge just a tad bit. Ya can't carry a full-blown machine gun 'round, for example. You're thinkin' of either an SMG or a machine pistol.
Also, I doubt ya care, but a pure diamond bayonet is utterly illogical (even moreso in a zambie apocalypse) and is likely inferior to a more practical metal. Only the edges of cutting tools are ever diamond-infused, and even then the amount is small from what I understand. The bayonet would also be very prone to breaking, or even snapping if you were to lodge it real good into a zambie's skull. Considerin' that's the only way to combat the bastards usin' a stabbing weapon, ... yeah. Metal-bonding is the way to go if for some ungodly reason ya want a bayonet that cuts slightly better. Which is to say, a "realistic" diamond-bladed bayonet.
Fix the first problem I mentioned, and I'd say it'l be a good SU.
I know nothing about guns. xDAlso, I suggest ya bone up on your weapons knowledge just a tad bit. Ya can't carry a full-blown machine gun 'round, for example. You're thinkin' of either an SMG or a machine pistol.
How about just a rifle?
Fine, metal bonding will work. I know that it's illogical, but I don't think it's going to be a problem despite the mild logic flaw.Also, I doubt ya care, but a pure diamond bayonet is utterly illogical (even moreso in a zambie apocalypse) and is likely inferior to a more practical metal. Only the edges of cutting tools are ever diamond-infused, and even then the amount is small from what I understand. The bayonet would also be very prone to breaking, or even snapping if you were to lodge it real good into a zambie's skull. Considerin' that's the only way to combat the bastards usin' a stabbing weapon, ... yeah. Metal-bonding is the way to go if for some ungodly reason ya want a bayonet that cuts slightly better. Which is to say, a "realistic" diamond-bladed bayonet.
Yay.Fix the first problem I mentioned, and I'd say it'l be a good SU.
Last edited by Neosquid; 08-03-2012 at 12:38 AM.
♦ The Fuchsia City Guru ♦
... Not that I have any say in the matter anyways.