Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Isobella (Izzy) Remairez

Isobel (Izzy) Remairez Oliveira

0 · 475 views · located in Earth: America

a character in “Dead Fingers”, as played by xSilentButterflyx

Description

.:Character's Name:.
Isobel (Izzy) Oliveira
Physical Description

......:Age: 17 1/5
......:Gender: Female
......:Height: 5''6
......:Weight: 121

.....:Nationality or Skin: Hispanic-American
......:Hair Color: Dark Brown

Clothing
.......Upper Garments: Black fitted t shirt and brown leather jacket over a thin denim jacket
.......Lower Garments: Thread worn jeans and black hiking boots

Inventory: Brown worn backpack filled with a few cans of food she was lucky enough to find in one of the old apartments, a change of socks, her secret teddy bat her mother gave her, and a few toiletries. 40 Cal and small carving knife.

......:Talents/Merits: She used to run for the track team her dad made her join, but she mostly enjoyed secretly being taught boxing and kick boxing.
......:Inabilities/Flaws: She's stubborn and sarcastic and yet has to learn that even though she's 17 she's still a child and doesn't know much about the world. She's a bit too adventurous and ends up getting herself in trouble.

Image

So begins...

Isobella (Izzy) Remairez's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Oliveira Character Portrait: Isobella (Izzy) Remairez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The warmth and illuminating rays of the Sun were growing weaker as it retreated back behind the towering skyscrapers of San Francisco. With a worried frown, Arthur watched through misty lenses as the sunlight died away behind the giant vacant obelisks as he waited for his daughter to catch up. Soon the streets would be completely devoid of any light.

He lifted one hand to scratch his unkempt beard of stubble that maneuvered around old scars, monuments to the cruelty some are overtaken with, as he watched his daughter pass the deserted cars strewn across the road. She rifled through each thoroughly with her eyes in hopes of finding anything of value to their struggling efforts to survive. So far, she had failed to produce anything from scavenging from the dead vehicles, but she felt there was always a slim chance that they may find something to add to their meager stockpile of supplies.
Isobel looked forward at her father, patiently waiting for her, standing by an greengrocer's. He examined the decaying fruit on display, recalling briefly the taste of fresh fruit before the world ended. Nothing was said between the two for a while. Not because of any bitter relations, but simply because the risk of disturbing any infected lying in wait was too high. They had both already witnessed the overwhelming danger the undead presented as unwitting survivors were ambushed by the creatures from the darkness of the city buildings.

"I don't think we're going to find them," Isobel said solemnly, approaching him. "It's getting dark."
Arthur had been dreading that she would voice the fear that would have been naive to ignore, but he knew that she was right. The two survivors that had left the stronghold flat in search of supplies had been expected to arrive back with at least some kind of provision to stave their hunger, but their lack of a return suggested that they may have been in trouble.
Arthur gave a despondent sigh in reply to his daughter's remark, feeling uncomfortable with preferring their own safety over the two others. He nodded in grim agreement before finally replying, "You're right. Let's head back."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Oliveira Character Portrait: Isobella (Izzy) Remairez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Isobel shook her head in frustration.
"I want to stay and look too, but..." she trailed of knowing he got her meaning. The two people that went out scavenging were their groups best. They wouldn't be lost so easily, and the only explanation to their absence would be their deaths. She winced and looked away, gripping her depressingly light backpack to herself. Her stomach was sinking in with every day and they were growing week. They needed food. Needed supplies. Some of the group was dying form the dirty water and the infections the rats were spreading. The other half would be too week to fight for their own survival for very long.
She kicked angrily at the dirt and sent a rock skidding across the littered streets, but with her horror it must have hit something metal under all the litter because a loud ting echoed off the vacant walls of the buildings.
A chorus of moans could be heard resonating around them and she cursed under her breath for being so careless.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Patrick Robertson Character Portrait: Tallara H. Ryan Character Portrait: Kira Rae Smith Character Portrait: Luna Wheeler Character Portrait: John Baxter Character Portrait: Rose Rennalds
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

((OOC: Dammit Cumin XD I'll have to respond with Isobel later, again! I spent all night writing this huge response only to turn on my computer this morning and discover you posted last night. So now I have to go back and rewrite the whooooole thing. If you want to know what my post would have been here it is:

Isobel stumbled alongside her father, who gripped her arm tightly, as they ran from the undead that were slowly spilling from the lifeless skeletons of buildings. Her father’s prayers reached her ears and she winced. She could feel the fear they shared between them and was then feeling very guilty for having caused this disruption in the once peaceful calm of the air in no-man’s-land, which was a very rare occurrence considering there were more undead out here than there were in the safe zone. The guilt only lasted a second though, because she had bigger priorities on her hands. They needed to find a way up. Now after the beginning of the rise of the dead that was a word many survivors considered holy: Up. It meant safety. It meant security from the undead the spilled out with the rats from the depths of the tunnels and sewage system underneath San Francisco. Up meant away from the shadows that covered the streets and led into the empty buildings that housed thousands of rotting living corpses. Walking dead that just needed a whisper of a living being to be woken into the hunt that would later earn them a meal they’ve been craving since they woke from their deathly slumber back in the beginning.
She didn’t want to be their food tonight, and thankfully her father and herself knew their way around this part of no-man’s-land. The last thing you’d want was to be caught in a chase without knowledge on where “Up” was.
Before Isobel would have thought up meant stairs or elevators, but now it meant ladders and pipes, because most stairs now were blocked and elevators broken or out of power. Only a few buildings in the whole of San Francisco still had electricity, and that was only because of company of personal house generators, that “President” Rico ended up hoarding for himself back at Alcatraz. No one missed the brightness in the distance that signaled where that small island was located, the only way of getting across being a small boat and a soldier to lead you in. Anyone who tried to cross over without authorization was shot on spot. Even she knew that, who’d only ever been in no-man’s-land since the outbreak. She could understand their reasoning. Without them inflicting the fear of death into anyone who tried to cross over there would be a mass hoard of the living survivors trying to cross to the safety of stone walls and large gates.
She longed for that kind of security, but for now their high apartment was what she had as a brick wall from her and the undead that now were gaining in on them.
Isobel and Arthur were slowing down to maneuver themselves around the cars. Definitely last thing they wanted was to start a car alarm.
“Dad!” she called out suddenly spotting something they’d missed on their trek out. A dirty worn backpack lay half kicked under a car. She quickly identified it as belonging to the lost search party they’d been searching for. She had no time to study the dark stains that looked a lot like blood, and in one fluid motion bent down and snatched the light pack, tossing it over onto her shoulder, and never breaking stride.
They were coming to the first piping that leads up onto some old shoe store’s roof. They’d rolled a car in front many months ago as to make it easier of a climb to the top, and harder for undead if they were being chased, learning from experience it was a much more safer way to climb if they didn’t have immediate teeth snapping at their backs.
With a quick crouch she sprung herself on top of the car, happy they’d had someone disarm the alarm. She didn’t break stride during that either, not because she was some type of skilled parcour runner, but more because they’d done this a couple dozen times before. She didn’t glance back to see if her father was behind her, not wanting to risk that one second they might need, and grabbed onto the piping that was growing smooth from use.
She heard Arthur’s feet hitting car metal and knew he’d made the jump also and would soon be following her up the piping.

((OOC: :D Looooonnnng post. Sorry for the narrative. Thought it would be better though for readers to more understand about their group and their life they’d been living outside of the safe zone.))
But yeah. That would have been my post. ))







Kira: She agreed with David’s suggestion of half the search party going in search for John ( he did suggest that right? For some odd reason I can’t seem to find that post, and if no one did I guess Kira just suggested that half the search go look for John) and the other half for the supplies.
“I’ll go in the search for John. I’m sure John understood why Zach suggested that we isolate him for a bit. We don’t know yet for sure if he’s infected until Luna takes a look at him and tries to understand where the coughing up blood is coming from. It might not be an infection from the zombies, and if it is
” she trailed off. She was sure none of them really wanted to think about another survivor being killed.
“Now we better go searching now before he gets too far.” Kira said at last and turned on her heal for the direction David had pointed to.
“Whoever is coming on either search party needs to follow now. I want a few people staying back to help Daniel and make sure Patrick’s ok. You guys have been really taking advantage of his hospitality in just the few hours we’ve been here.” She turned around for that last part and eyed their group like a mother would a disobedient child. Then without another glance she continued forward into the trees.

Luna:
She wanted to go after John more than anything right now. He was one of the few people along with Tallara that she actually felt truly comfortable around, but she needed to stay and see what she could help Daniel Winters with. Also she needed to check up on any wounded people to make sure their wounds weren’t getting infected, and this time it actually included Patrick. He’d been pretty disrespectful to her lately, seeming to expect her to just tend to his wounds whenever he wanted, but that didn’t mean she could just leave the kid to fend for himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Patrick Robertson Character Portrait: Kira Rae Smith Character Portrait: Jake Hays Character Portrait: John Baxter Character Portrait: Zach Lebowski Character Portrait: Rose Rennalds
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

((OOC: Girlfriend and boyfriend references are very... they're not right for zombie apocalypses. Kira's just his lover XD. ))

Kira:
She was glad to finally get moving in search for John and it wasn't till she was further into the forest she realized one of the people accompanying her was the new clown guy, Jamie.
"So...do you guys ever do, like...shit?" was all he said and Kira just raised one eyebrow.
"An odd way to put it, but yeah. We've been traveling for a while now and this has been our first real settle down, but I don't think anyone will be staying long. We're not used to being in one place. Some of us have also seemed to have lost part of human politeness." she said that last part more to herself than to Jamie. She was feeling a little uncomfortable with the way the group was becoming more and more comfortable with this house and forgetting all about Daniel.
She squinted against the dense trees and wished she could just yell out John's name, but that would just call some unwanted visitors. They still had to worry about those bandits.

((OOC: Ps who is with which group and where at? I know kira and jamie are looking for john who is with two other people. Who else is looking for john? if any? and who is looking for supplies besides rose and jake? Who is back at the house besides luna, patty, zach, and melody? ))

Rose:
They'd been searching for hours now and her fingers were thoroughly wrinkled and her clothes were sopping wet from diving in and out of the water. Much of the supplies that her and Patrick had tossed over were either still missing or ruined. She did find the wool blanket though she'd been earlier reluctant to throw over. She pressed the wet blanket to her face and smelled deeply. It smelt like lake water, but she imagined the warm wooly smell if it was dry.
Zach had left then to take a break so only a few survivors were there, one in particular was Jake, that older guy with the cut on his leg and a bandaged shoulder. She hadn't actually spoken to him.
Her legs were getting tired from fighting the water to stay afloat when she swam out a bit and she decided to take a break. She climbed out of the water and sat next Jake by the trees.
"My sister is dead isn't she?" she asked finally. She'd had time to think when she was looking for the supplies.



Isobel stumbled alongside her father, who gripped her arm tightly, as they ran from the undead that were slowly spilling from the lifeless skeletons of buildings. Her father’s prayers reached her ears and she winced. She could feel the fear they shared between them and was then feeling very guilty for having caused this disruption in the once peaceful calm of the air in no-man’s-land, which was a very rare occurrence considering there were more undead out here than there were in the safe zone. The guilt only lasted a second though, because she had bigger priorities on her hands. They needed to find a way up. Now after the beginning of the rise of the dead that was a word many survivors considered holy: Up. It meant safety. It meant security from the undead the spilled out with the rats from the depths of the tunnels and sewage system underneath San Francisco. Up meant away from the shadows that covered the streets and led into the empty buildings that housed thousands of rotting living corpses. Walking dead that just needed a whisper of a living being to be woken into the hunt that would later earn them a meal they’ve been craving since they woke from their deathly slumber back in the beginning.
She didn’t want to be their food tonight, and thankfully her father and herself knew their way around this part of no-man’s-land. The last thing you’d want was to be caught in a chase without knowledge on where “Up” was.
Before Isobel would have thought up meant stairs or elevators, but now it meant ladders and pipes, because most stairs now were blocked and elevators broken or out of power. Only a few buildings in the whole of San Francisco still had electricity, and that was only because of company of personal house generators, that “President” Rico ended up hoarding for himself back at Alcatraz. No one missed the brightness in the distance that signaled where that small island was located, the only way of getting across being a small boat and a soldier to lead you in. Anyone who tried to cross over without authorization was shot on spot. Even she knew that, who’d only ever been in no-man’s-land since the outbreak. She could understand their reasoning. Without them inflicting the fear of death into anyone who tried to cross over there would be a mass hoard of the living survivors trying to cross to the safety of stone walls and large gates.
She longed for that kind of security, but for now their high apartment was what she had as a brick wall from her and the undead that now were gaining in on them.
Isobel and Arthur were slowing down to maneuver themselves around the cars. Definitely last thing they wanted was to start a car alarm.
“Dad!” she called out suddenly spotting something they’d missed on their trek out. A dirty worn backpack lay half kicked under a car. She quickly identified it as belonging to the lost search party they’d been searching for. She had no time to study the dark stains that looked a lot like blood, and in one fluid motion bent down and snatched the light pack, tossing it over onto her shoulder, and never breaking stride.
They were coming to the first piping that leads up onto some old shoe store’s roof. They’d rolled a car in front many months ago as to make it easier of a climb to the top, and harder for undead if they were being chased, learning from experience it was a much more safer way to climb if they didn’t have immediate teeth snapping at their backs.
With a quick crouch she sprung herself on top of the car, happy they’d had someone disarm the alarm. She didn’t break stride during that either, not because she was some type of skilled parcour runner, but more because they’d done this a couple dozen times before. She didn’t glance back to see if her father was behind her, not wanting to risk that one second they might need, and grabbed onto the piping that was growing smooth from use.
She heard Arthur’s feet hitting car metal and knew he’d made the jump also and would soon be following her up the piping.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Oliveira Character Portrait: Isobella (Izzy) Remairez
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Isobel:
He heart sank when they finally entered their "home". Before that was what she called it. At least before everyone began to starve, before everyone got sick, and before they died or left. Now it was just a graveyard of horrible memories. It'd only been a year since the outbreak, but it felt like many more. She let herself down on one of the mold smelling couches, a plume of dust thrusting itself into the already densely particle filled air.
She clicked her backpack away and hugged the other backpack to her chest, the one that was left by the people they'd been looking for. She didn't want to open it. Opening it would mean accepting the fact that her and her father were alone, and possibly next to die. Her stomach, as if reminded by that very thought, growled loudly with hunger. It was sunken in and her ribs were protruding slightly. She couldn't even imagine what her father was going through, him having given up so many meals so she and the others could have some sort of subsistence.
She set the backpack aside and leaned forward on her knees, searching Arthur for any sine of hurt. He looked tired and sore.
"Are you ok dad?" she asked, knowing the running and climbing lately have been taking a lot out of him. He didn't have as much energy anymore like Isobel did with her still young teenage body.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tallara H. Ryan Character Portrait: Luna Wheeler Character Portrait: Jake Hays Character Portrait: John Baxter Character Portrait: Zach Lebowski Character Portrait: David Marsh
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Luna had been leaning against the wall this whole time, exchanging glances back and forth between her and Tallara as John explained the situation. She honestly had no idea what to think and ran her fingers through her greasy hair. She'd all but forgotten about that little bitch that had caused all that trouble a few days ago.
"Zach knows." she said with a flick of the wrist, remembering the gun shop they'd came to where they'd met Chassie and Jake. Her mind was elsewhere and she continued: "I guess we could leave, but... what if Daniel wants to stay? What if people want to stay with him? We couldn't just leave them here to face these crazy people." she spoke up then after David went through the whole ordeal of counting his ammunition and shouting things to the new guy Micheal. She'd just woken up not that long ago and her brain wasn't liking these loud noises so early.

Isobel:
He heart sank when they finally entered their "home". Before that was what she called it. At least before everyone began to starve, before everyone got sick, and before they died or left. Now it was just a graveyard of horrible memories. It'd only been a year since the outbreak, but it felt like many more. She let herself down on one of the mold smelling couches, a plume of dust thrusting itself into the already densely particle filled air.
She clicked her backpack away and hugged the other backpack to her chest, the one that was left by the people they'd been looking for. She didn't want to open it. Opening it would mean accepting the fact that her and her father were alone, and possibly next to die. Her stomach, as if reminded by that very thought, growled loudly with hunger. It was sunken in and her ribs were protruding slightly. She couldn't even imagine what her father was going through, him having given up so many meals so she and the others could have some sort of subsistence.
She set the backpack aside and leaned forward on her knees, searching Arthur for any sine of hurt. He looked tired and sore.
"Are you ok dad?" she asked, knowing the running and climbing lately have been taking a lot out of him. He didn't have as much energy anymore like Isobel did with her still young teenage body.