Name: Kay Culver Delson
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Previous Occupation: Drug peddling and 'organized' crime
Place of Birth: St. Louis, Missouri, USA
Place of Residence: __ City, USA

Height: 5'5"
Weight: 129lbs
Physical Description: Kay's short but strong, with a boyish, goofy smile and a relaxed demeanor that could almost be charming if it weren't always molded into something of an irritated frown. He's never without shadows under his eyes and a habitual slouch, and now it's more plausible than ever that he doesn't even own a comb. On first glance, he's tired and dirty— like all survivors, really. Perhaps a touch dirtier. That said, he's always been that way; he's used to pulling all-nighters, and it's obvious in his face. Somewhere in his features is a young man who's pushed his body to physical limits he can't quite come back from.

That said, like his sister, he's short and somewhat pale, with freckles across his nose and cheeks and steely, colorless eyes. He has a straight nose and dark eyebrows to mirror his black hair. Neither's particularly thick. He has broad shoulders and a well-muscled body usually lost under clothes that don't fit quite right. As he has small feet, he has no trouble finding shoes to nick from stores, as few who've made it this far have bothered to steal the littler sizes. He always wears a watch on his right hand and a braided leather bracelet on his left.

Personality: Kay acts how he looks: angry, tired, and noticeably unrefined. To mirror his sister's rather demure character, he's bad-tempered and not afraid to show it— when it's not completely inappropriate to do so, that is. Over the years, he's learned a good deal of self-control. He can conduct a normal conversation and return to silently fuming whenever it suits him.

Though a naturally energetic person, Kay rarely sleeps anymore, morphing what was once a gleeful boy into the more angry, violent-tempered adult he is today. He has a quick temper and can hold his own well in a fight even if he is the shorter one. As obstinate as he is, he's picked more fights that it's worth and has ended up with scars to show. He's used to living quick, dirty, and poor. Though he's hardly stupid, he never focused much on his studies in school and can come across as the slower of the bunch, not above using 'ain't' and other not-quite-proper aspects of grammar. He tends to ramble when his emotions run high.

Kay spends around half of his time amiable and acceptably-natured and the other half sulky and even more short-fused than usual (it undoubtedly follows his sleep patterns). Though he's quick to shout and argue any time, he splits evenly his time glaring into thin are and his time when he'll actually spare someone a grin. It all depends on when Alyssa can convince him to sleep. He's pushy and irritable, for the most part, though, and he does what he wants. In this way, he can be very impulsive, as well.

On the topic of his sister: she's the one thing he wouldn't sacrifice to get what he wants. Though he's bull-like in his determination, Alyssa is his weak spot. He's clearly overprotective of her, but she doesn't say much about it. What he perceives as her happiness is something he puts far ahead of his own enjoyment of life— he'd take a bullet for her and make sure she didn't have too much of a mess to take care of as he died. As her self-proclaimed caretaker, he doesn't like being told what to do or cared for himself, though, so he hasn't exactly been welcoming to help. He cares about their safety and well-being above anything else; morals be damned. His behavior in any given situation is based on a complex system of decisions, so he can be an extremely unpredictable person in a very, very bad way.

On a side note, he's always been a bit of an artsy type, and when his temper overflows with nowhere to go he's been known to sulk off and start doodling. Not that he'd ever tell anyone, of course. Beneath the spitfire-little-guy carapace, he can be embarrassingly sensitive and can't quite handle his own emotions. Mostly, he just covers them up with anger. And lots of physical contact, which he'll happily dish out if anyone mentions his height. Ever.

History: Kay Delson was born the first of two illegitimate children of a St. Louis diner waitress and her eye-candy affair. He was a healthy baby boy, though he leaned toward the rambunctious side, always shrieking a little too loudly or biting a bit too hard. He was a boy who would have come up well, had his mother had the time to raise him better. Unfortunately for his future development, his not-quite-Irish twin Alyssa arrived one year and two months after his birth, and he, the healthy baby, was the one largely ignored when all was well.

Despite the obvious attention schism, however, Kay's always been devoted to his little sister. He remembers his early years as her watchdog when he never left her side, lest she fall prey to boys who played too rough on the slide or start crying when someone threw a tiny dinosaur at her and made her bleed. When she wasn't sick, he'd sneak her out the back door of their housing block to go play at the dilapidated excuse for a park nearby. He was always the responsible one, tasked with keeping her happy and safe, and as a boy, he took his job very seriously.

Of course, Alyssa was much too young to remember any of that, and he doesn't remind her. He's changed a lot in the days since he was five.

Starting kindergarten, Kay was as average as one might expect. He was neither delayed nor excellent in any particular subject and did his best to follow the rules. When the occasional mishap did crop up, Mom either didn't have time or was sleeping. He never caused too many problems, and in exchange, he got nothing back. He might have been the one with the taped-together backpack from the Goodwill reject pile, but he made friends easily, his loyal nature and his seemingly unending energy serving him well as a child.

Then he met Rafael. Rafael, who bragged about having a daddy no one wanted to piss off. Rafael who, the first day of third grade, sat down next to the friendliest-looking kid he could find and pushed him to the ground, hoping he could get a tear or two out of him. Kay, however, had taken tiny plastic dinosaurs for his little sister since birth— he wasn't one to be pushed down too easily. His pushing back marked the beginning of the right kind of friendship with the wrong kind of kids.

One thing led to another. Kay and Rafael became like family, and in the underworld that was their life, family was everything. His mother was never home, so Rafael and Alyssa were the only ones he had. The two boys were inseparable, like brothers, and when Rafael started selling drugs for his uncle, so did Kay. He was never quite as savvy in 'customer relations' as his counterpart, but the two made a surprisingly wily team. Rafael was the brains of the business, and his brothers— the twins— were the braun. While his sister pored over books and his mother slaved away at fryers and coffeepots, Kay and Rafael brought home the money for their families. Before, there had never been quite enough, but with Kay's new source of income, they were set. Alyssa would never have to worry about juggling textbooks and food again. Even then, she was his life. In retrospect, though, he could have cared for her more, and he beats himself up for it now.

He tried to dissuade Alyssa from getting her own job. It was in part due to Kay's overprotective nature concerning her and in part his worries that what he was doing wasn't adequate enough. Regardless, she got one. Kay could never say no to her. She never asked for anything, so the few times she did, he let her do it. If he told her too harshly not to follow her dreams, he'd break them, and hurting her like that was never how he was.

He didn't know why she came home crying that day, but it tore him up inside not to sit her down and comfort her like he always would. He'd been sitting on the couch, pacing back and forth on the roof, watching the cars pile up on the Interstate and waiting for Alyssa. If it'd been another twenty minutes, he would have gone looking for her— she was half an hour late, and it was getting him worried, what with all the news of the sickness spreading through the city. God forbid she'd... but Kay's worries were washed away when the sounds of her chaining up her bike just inside the doorway drew him back to reality. He'd collected the duffel of weapons Rafael had dropped by— one brother doesn't leave another defenseless— and slung the other, notably few supplies over his shoulder. He took Alyssa, gave her ten minutes to take what she could fit in a bag, and they piled onto the motorcycle, lashing down what they couldn't put in the bags. It wouldn't be zipping down the highway without losing a pot or the entire damned duffel, but they'd take their chances. Kay put their lives before anything else— he'd seen, if only from a far, what those things were. He wasn't sparing even a second to calm down his sister before they sped off.

They spent a few weeks scraping by, selling bits and pieces of Kay's stock of drugs to the ones who just wanted an easy out. They vultured supplies. Kay started fights, lost some, and won others. Eventually, they made their way to ___ City in the hopes of a refuge. It was a pipe dream, though— of course there was nothing there. But they've been there ever since, and after weeks of camping out in the open they don't plan on leaving the safety of the city until they have to.

Tools/Equipment:
- A bag of assorted weapons and limited ammunition. Mostly larger guns.
- A Walther .22 handgun.
- A small but waterproof backpack.
- Tarps.
- Rope.
- A hand-crank flashlight.
- A machete.
- A short, multi-purpose knife.
- A cheap but worthwhile skinning knife.
- Walkie-Talkies.
- Blankets.
- A good supply of MDMA and LSD.
- A handful of amphetamines and cocaine— though very, very little of the latter.