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Owen James Calley

0 · 102 views · located in Manhattan

a character in “Restless Corpses”, as played by Iki


Name: Owen James Calley
Alias: Monday
Species: Wolf/Feline mutt
Age: 29
Fur: Black
Eyes: Blue
Height: 71" (1.80m)
Weight: 160lbs (72.57kg)
Build: Athletic


Loadout: Sig Sauer P226 Elite in .40 S&W; tritium sights, short-release trigger, and Picatinny rail, currently bare; strapped to his right thigh in a paddle holster when not in use.
Ammunition: Five twelve-round magazines (One loaded, four in the MOLLE rig strapped to his left thigh - yes, I actually own this equipment), minus one expended magazine and seven rounds.
Melee Weapon: Cold Steel Panga machete, utilized more often than not in order to conserve what little ammunition he's carrying.
Primary Tools: A small Benchmade 140 SBK model knife with serrated blade (4.5" blade total, 1" serration), a lensatic military compass, and a mini Maglite.


Born to a working middle-class Irish-American family, Owen learned the basic principles of hard work and its given value and satisfaction at a tender age. That of course didn't stop him from frivolously enjoying life as a wee little pup, despite having to cope with the consistent and invariably confusing barrage of questions and teasing surrounding the oddball couple that was his parents and his 'differences' therein. Bred a mutt between a wolf and a feline woman, it was often that his father would have to explain to visiting friends and their friends when they'd badger Owen about why his mother was different from his father - even in a modern day and age of general tolerance - that "Love simply finds a way."

His father a wise old wolf and his mother a sweet doting kitten, he grew up with a fairly well-rounded moral compass despite notably misanthropic behaviour that developed over the course of tormentive years endured at the hands of his peers because of his 'differences,' and after flying the nest at the cookie-cutter age of 18 and a short stint in the conventional Army, made the swap over to Special Operations, and spent the last six of his eight-year term in and out of the Middle East. When that grew stale, and he eventually exited the military service, he still managed to make good headway on his own, and even made a notorious name for himself with the local police department. Enlisted as a 'runner' to help train their patrolmen in apprehending suspects on the street, he earned his distinctive nickname through his second of two part-time jobs and his distinctive knack for parkour, making himself something of a unicorn to catch during exercises and earning the moniker 'Monday' for the dreaded 'Black Mondays' that he worked running literal circles around officers at the department.

But that didn't hardly last a short three years before the mutated Merus virus began sweeping the nation, and his place as a job-holder was ultimately dissolved - not that it mattered at length, when everyone ultimately wound up dead or reanimated and had no real use for money - but when shit started going sideways, and public broadcasts started calling for safehouses and collection points, he did what made the very most sense to him: he stayed put. The way he figured, safehouses meant lots of people, and lots of people probably meant lots of wounded and afflicted - whether they kept that to themselves or not - which meant secret killers in the night when the disease finally took hold and the infected people who kept quiet about it literally woke up dead. But that was just a theory. Consequently, being 'one step ahead' left him one step behind in terms of power in numbers, forcing him to try to make it on his own when his personal supplies inevitably ran out, and his to-and-fro trips eventually attracted far too many of the walking dead for him to quietly deal with on his own, and he was forced to cut out into the concrete jungle of the city. Hence the present, and the knack for staying alive his survivalist - if not situationally selfish - skillset has provided him with.

So begins...

Owen James Calley's Story