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Seth Tanner

A young paramedic, out to survive by any means necessary.

0 · 72 views · located in Season 3

a character in “The Walking Dead: Online”, as played by Skata

Description

# Seth Tanner #


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Description:

Name: Seth Tanner
Portrayed By: Dave Franco
Profession: Part-time EMT/ part-time nursing student
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Height/Weight: 6’/ 170lbs
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Tattoos/Scars: Modified Rod of Asclepius on his left shoulder (see pic)/ long scar on his right calf from high school rugby accident.
Clothing: Navy blue EMT pants, long-sleeve flannel shirt, running shoes, grey ball cap, bandana, work gloves, and clear safety glasses.

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Traits:

3 Strengths: Adaptable, Charismatic, Determined
3 Flaws: Impatient, Defensive, Selfish

Personality:

Fears: Failure, going bald, flying, drowning, spiders.
Aspirations: Finish nursing school, work in the ER, own a large house, travel to Europe, foster shelter dogs, buy a boat or Jet Ski.
Dominant Emotion: Optimism
Demeanor: Seth is a driven person above all else, he constantly sets new goals and pushes himself to improve. Seth also tends to plan to the extreme, with every minute of his day carefully scheduled. In social settings he is warm and friendly, able to strike up a conversation with even the most shy wall flower in the room. While he may enjoy being sarcastic a bit too often, he is good at recognizing when to hold his tongue and stick to harmless puns and dry small talk.
Quirks/Oddities: Loves all kinds of pickles, always throws a punch at the count of seven, collects razorblades, able to sleep standing up.
Skills/Proficiencies: Treating traumatic wounds, knowledge of pharmacology, some survivalist training, making hard choices, driving at high speeds, baking apple pie

Equipment:

Weapons: Red fire Axe, hunting knife, crowbar, multiple razor blades, handgun, small pocket knife
Keepsakes/Trinkets/Valuables: Pendant around his neck exactly the same as his tattoo, EMT bag, tablet with charging cord, three usb drives, cell phone, two small jars, stuffed Dalmatian toy, and a pair of binoculars.
Weapon of Choice: Fire Axe

History:

  • Born in Seattle Washington
  • Only child to doting parents
  • Father dies in hit & run accident, driver never caught
  • Seth and his Mother move to Los Angeles for a new start
  • Seth joins his High school’s rugby team
  • A broken leg ends his ability to play rugby
  • Seth’s Mother loses her battle with alcohol just two months before her son’s high school graduation
  • Seth receives his EMT certification
  • He returns to school to study nursing with an emphasis on Trauma and Pharmacology

So begins...

Seth Tanner's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezrael de Lorian Character Portrait: Seth Tanner Character Portrait: Kire Barrow Character Portrait: Brooke Callaway (NPC) Character Portrait: Harold St. James (NPC) Character Portrait: Ari Dinkowitz (NPC)

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#, as written by Skata

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Calvin Hawke Character Portrait: Oliver O'Brien (NPC) Character Portrait: Dax Faraday (NPC) Character Portrait: Ezrael de Lorian Character Portrait: Seth Tanner Character Portrait: Kire Barrow Character Portrait: Brooke Callaway (NPC) Character Portrait: Harold St. James (NPC) Character Portrait: Ari Dinkowitz (NPC)

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.: The Lost Church :.


Harry stopped in his tracks at Seth’s question. The preacher. They had yet to unearth any recollection of the event from Sarah, and in truth, Harry didn’t know quite how to explain the delicate situation. How close were these two newcomers to the freshly deceased priest? The dangers of what the truth could trigger in them far outweighed the risks of any careless divulgence on their part-- especially without knowing the whole truth.

Seth must have noticed the concern in Harry’s eyes, because he too halted his movements-- looking first at Kire and then around at the others. ”What…?” he asked, suspiciously.

Harry grimaced. ”You should probably come with me.” He gestured for the boy to follow, holding a hand up to Ari who had moved to join them and who-- still even after the tension had eased-- was keeping a wary eye on the two young newcomers. The lawyer stiffened at this request, relaxing his grip on the weapon in his hands as it fell to hang loosely at his side.

Kire rushed up quickly beside Seth, her hands rubbing at the cold exposed skin where her sleeves were pushed up. She pulled them down, nervously. ”Is everything OK?”

”I think it’ll be easier if you just… see it for yourself.” Harry turned and continued towards the stairwell, his uneven steps leading the way. Seth reluctantly followed, turning back to Kire slightly and gesturing for her to follow. Neither of them liked the way he had made it sound, but they had a feeling all was about to be explained. Ari watched them parade their way towards the basement, his eyes lingering on them before he too split off back towards the front of the church.

Ezrael hovered nearby Brooke as she sifted through one of the backpacks on the church pew next to her. He took his glasses in his hands and began rubbing the spotty lenses with the hem of his dress shirt. ”We shouldn’t have opened the door,” he began, looking around to make sure the others were well out of earshot. ”You know what Val’s going to do if she sees that we let two total strangers in here… with you... the baby…”

Brooke zipped the bag shut, forcefully-- once she had found the bottle of water she was searching for. She tossed her dangling hair out of her eyes and slowly rose back to her feet. Ezrael moved to help her up, but she waved his hands away with a heavy breath. ”We’re capable of taking care of ourselves. She’ll have to understand that.”

”And if she can’t?” Ezrael asked, returning his spectacles to his eyes.

Brooke tilted her head. ”Then we’ll help her understand.” She spun on her heel, making way back towards Sarah’s holding room with the water in hand-- cradling her stomach with the other. She disappeared behind the wooden door… out of sight but not out of mind. Ezrael chewed on her words, his gaze falling upon the somber fixture of Jesus hung high above the front altar. From up there, something became painfully clear suddenly. It wasn’t sadness on the Lord’s face. It was pity....

He was literally looking down on them.


# # #


Harry hung the lantern high above the covered table, its matted sheet dusty with cobwebs and filth from lying crumpled in a ball on the floor for only God know’s how long. Underneath lied the silent motionless body of what had once been the proprietor of the chapel they now took refuge in. He came to a stop just behind the head of the table and reached over, gently peeling the vale back from the corpse-- starting with his face.

’It’s face...’ Seth reflected quietly to himself, correcting his own thoughts as his eyes narrowed at the scene literally unfolding in front of him. A deep hole rested over one of the preacher’s eyes where the crucifix had done its work. The rest of his face looked yellow and gaunt and sickly, made paler by the makeshift light hung above as it cast shadows and odd shapes around the room. Kire shied away into the corner, bringing her hands to her face-- unable to hold her gaze on the remnants of the man who had taken them into onto the street mere days before. He certainly didn’t deserve this fate. Nobody did.

Harry took a couple steps back and folded his arms across his broad chest as his chin hung low. ”He was like this in one of the confessionals… with this in his eye.” Harry shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and drew the crucifix, holding it out to Seth. The boy took the memento from Harry’s hand and regarded it closely-- bloodstains still clearly visible on traces of the blade and handle. It was odd that out of everyone in the room, it was the crucifix alone that knew the whole tale.

”What happened to him?” Seth asked, rounding the table to examine the corpse closer. He looked under the preacher’s arms and legs, looking for signs of some kind of struggle or claw marks. Traces of scratches and tears etched the man’s face -- or at least the parts not covered in dried blood. Carefully, he rested his middle and index finger on the corpse's lips, drawing his jaw down and stretching his gums around with his other hand as he examined its teeth and gums. Deeper inspection showed bits of flesh stuck between its darkened molars. There was clearly more to this than Harry was letting on. Ones hand had to be played close to the chest these days though… there were just too many wild cards, and so he kept silent.

”Like I said, we found him like this…” Harry admitted, stopping himself short of getting to the part about the girl in captivity upstairs. However long these newcomers intended to stay, that little fact wouldn’t be able to be kept secret for much longer. Harry cleared his throat, gruffly. ”I’ll give you two some time. We’ll be upstairs whenever you’re ready,” he grumbled, before leaving the room back up the stairs. Seth watched him go, gripping the crucifix in his hand.


# # #


.: Calvin Hawke :.


Calvin awoke with a shiver, his arms clutching his sides as he laid curled in a ball on the ratty cot he had called his bed for the last couple hours. His untucked hand searched for the folds of his missing blanket, grasping nothing but empty air-- and it was then that his eyes snapped open to reveal that his covers were nowhere near. Beside him, the shutters of a pried window clattered softly against its framing. A series of tied sheets and apparel netted a long rope which hung loosely out the window-- pinned in place by one of the shutters themselves. Calvin jumped to his feet, rushing the window to look out at the other buildings and courtyard below. The fabricated rope hung from where it was tethered, dropping deep into another window only a few flights below. He tucked his head back through the window, feeling the vertigo begin to rush into him as the reality of the situation kicked into gear. He spun around to survey the room, instantly spotting Oliver’s sleeping figure-- still bound to the rail of the very bed he slept upon now. That made the culprit of the sudden escape quite obvious.

’But why would he just jump ship without us?’ Calvin wondered, looking back at the window. He couldn’t not go after him. If Dax were to get caught, the blowback would be severe… and regrettable. Calvin knew he couldn’t risk that, and soon one of his legs was already through the window as he perched gently on the ledge. He braced both of his feets behind the sill of the window itself and began to push off once he was certain he had a firm grip on the rope. He let each of his feet fall one after the other as he edged his way down the facade of the building-- careful to hug the building as tightly as he could as to avoid being seen. Luckily, a large cropping of tall trees in the courtyard across from him cast a generous enough shadow that it didn’t feel like he had a spotlight on him for his quick outing.

He eventually found the next ledge, and carefully lowered grabbed ahold of the brick siding and pulled himself into the window, toppling onto the next floor of the apartment. The musty carpet coughed a dark cloud of dust up from beneath him as he landed with a plop and rolled into the darkened interior. Dax’s silhouette filled the frame of the doorway several paces ahead-- splintered beams of daylight breaking through the dilapidated blinds hung upon the window in front of him. His moppy head bobbled towards the window, darting up and down the hallway to make sure he was alone as he sidled up the wall beneath it. His fingers fumbled with the folds of the draped plastic as he peered through with one eye, scanning the street out below. Calvin was all too curious what he’d have made such a foolish effort to come see, but he owed the man a chance to explain himself at least. He crept closer, walking softly across the mangy carpet towards the hallway-- stopping a couple of steps before the door.

His dried lips stuck together slightly as he spoke up. ”What are you doing, Dax?”

There was a hint of wariness in his voice that crept in faintly. Dax’s shoulders tensed as he let go of the blinds and spun around to face Calvin. He looked up and down the hallway again-- as if expecting some kind of additional ambush-- and then relaxed slightly. ”C-Calvin, no-- it isn’t anything b-bad…” he assured, waving his hands in the air. He gestured towards the window, beckoning Calvin into the hallway. ”I had to be sure,” he began vaguely, his face becoming as red as his hair. Calvin inched closer, hanging on Dax’s every word. ”An old cellmate of mine tipped me off last night,” he continued, breathlessly. ”I had to be sure. I didn’t want to put all of us in danger by just taking him at his word, but--”

Calvin gritted his teeth. ”You put us all in danger the second you opened that window.”

”Well it was all worth it,” Dax bragged, waving him closer. He lifted up the folds of the blinds and Calvin rose his head slowly to look through the window, wary of what sights awaited him on the other side. ”Do you see her?” he asked, the excitement and relief both equally prevalent in his voice. Sure enough, past the mangled chain-link fences and cluttered parking lot, a group of individuals led a small woman by her arms towards the front entrance of the Capitol building. Even without binoculars, Calvin could see her golden locks bobbing from beneath her bagged head as she stumbled forth against her will. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, thankful she was alive-- albeit barely. ”I couldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it with my own eyes,” Dax continued to babble, cheerily. ”That means she’s safe. That means we can--”


*%$ BAM $%*


A steel-toed boot burst through the frame of the door just beside them as a heavier man rushed through with his weapon up. Behind the bandana tied around his nose and mouth, he grinned. ”Thought I heard whispering in here… damn near thought I was losing my mind.” Dax’s eyes darted towards Calvins as the two slowly raised their hands into the air. They stood upright, bunching together near the doorway they had snuck in through. The convict edged closer-- his gun still trained, just waiting for someone to do something stupid. ”The Warden’ll give me a nice fat reward for this. I should sneak off to take pisses down here more often.” Even from that distance, Calvin could smell the overwhelming scent of alcohol, cigarettes, and an unfortunate amount of time on the man’s breath. The bandana over his mouth suddenly seemed like less of a fashion choice and more about containment.

”Uhh-- L-Listen… Wallace? Right? That’s your name, right? You remember me, don’t you? From that time in the y-yard, when those guys were playing b-basketball, and--” his voice drifted off anxiously as the man’s weapon suddenly started shifting towards him the longer he talked. ”We weren’t even trying to escape,” he continued, trying to play all his cards. ”We just had to--”

Calvin couldn’t stand watching the man dig himself deeper any longer. Especially not if he was being dragged down with him. ”I wanna see the Warden…” he demanded, speaking loud enough to top Dax’s incessant mumbling. The man shut up once he saw the expression change on the convict’s face.

”What do you want with him?” he inquired, suddenly playing the role of guard as if it mattered anymore.

”That’s between me and the Warden. And nobody else.” Calvin turned around and placed his hands behind his back, trying to queue the convict to come arrest him. The man stupidly inched a few steps forward, lowering his guard just enough to prompt Dax to do the most heroic thing he may ever do. He turned to assume the same position, stopping and spinning on his heel the second the convict was within arm’s reach, and then launched himself forward at the man-- grasping at his gun arm with both hands to shove it towards the ground. The first bullet rang out loudly in the shallow hallway, barraging all three of their ears with a warm metallic symphony-- a burning sensation that simmered long after the actual sound had gone. The burn whitened, as voices and struggles muffled themselves along with the rest of the world-- arms and legs doing battle with one another as they tried to wrestle the convict to the ground. Calvin knelt down, grabbing for the man’s legs. He flailed and kicked-- eventually exposing the small knife tucked in just above his sock. Calvin made for it, gripping the handle just as another gunshot ripped off-- knocking him back on his ass, blade in hand. He turned to see Dax’s limp body crumple into a heap against the wall-- parts of him splattered against the peeling eggshell wallpaper behind him. ”NOOOOO!” Calvin shrieked. The convict shouted out too, scrambling back on his hands and feet right into Calvin’s waiting blade. It filled him silently as Calvin twisted and jerked the knife free of the man’s torso. He tossed the man’s body aside as his lips burbled dark red bubbles and he wreathed softly into stillness. Calvin tossed the blade aside and climbed over to Dax, rolling him onto his side. Through the door down the hallway, more voices and hurried footsteps thundered closer. Dax’s pupils rolled around in his head as he fought to maintain focus, trying to find Calvin’s eyes. Calvin held his bloodied face in his hands. ”I’m gonna save her,” he promised-- knowing that was the only thing that could make Dax at peace. ”But I have to save myself first…” he laid Dax back against the wall, propping him up so he faced the end of the hallway-- grabbing the pistol from near the dead convict’s hand and laying it in Dax’s. ”Thank you for saving me… however many times that was.”

Dax laughed a little, the red now spilling from his lips too. ”Go, man…”

Calvin placed his forehead against Dax’s, giving him a brief farewell before scooping the knife up from the ground and hustling out the door he came in from-- making sure to close it, and Dax... behind him. He rushed to the open window, peeking outside to make sure the coast was still clear as he pulled himself through the open frame and back onto the makeshift rope. His legs fell clear of the window sill and dropped below him, causing his hands to slide a few inches down the rope and his heart to fall a few stories out his ass with fear. He could feel his heartbeat quicken against the empty air as he put one arm over the other, using his shoes to cinch the line and help him climb up. Enough moments went by as his fingers reached out, fumbling against the edge of the next window above. He latched on, forcing one last feat of strength to get him through to the other side.

His body tumbled back onto the rug of his former holding, and he quickly righted himself-- hurrying to the window and untying the knotted sheets from the bedpost. Calvin took the moment to finally look at his hands, glancing down to see the plainly obvious blood-stained palms staring back at him. He used the last of the linen rope to wipe his hands clean before dropping the whole string of them down into the forested abyss below. He watched as they landed in a scattered heap several stories below, descending into the space between the two apartment buildings. Calvin pulled the windows back shut and draped the sheet back over them, the way he remembered. The light was blocked once more from the room as it cascaded back into darkness-- mere slivers of light breaking through the moth-eaten holes and uneven edges. Oliver stirred off to the side, seemingly undisturbed by the frenzy of activity that had transpired around him. Despite being the only one who had been allowed the time to simply stay chained up to a bed and sleep all day, he managed to find himself in another deep slumber. Calvin slightly envied him… but only for a moment.

Almost like a drumroll, more gunfire erupted from beneath the floor. Calvin laid his head back down on his cot, curling up into a ball as he closed his eyes against the darkness. The day could only get so bad, after all-- even after all this...

His sister was alive.