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Antony Vasilev

""I used to kinda like the sound of the wind through the shutters of my house. Kinda sorta terrifies me now."

0 · 91 views · located in Suburban Moscow;

a character in “The Haze”, as played by DumbassArmageddon

Description

Image
Name:
Antony P. Vasilev
Age:
22
Gender:
Male
Height
6' 1" (I85 cm)
Weight:
180 lbs (81 kg)
Appearance:
Antony has a fairly defined face. His jaw bone is straight and his eyes taper off slenderly, his eyebrows thick and his nose prominent. His solid blue eyes are rimmed by wise, tired circles. His teeth are a little out of line, but nothing noticeable by a passing glance. His lips are always pursed a little, as if he had something to say, but couldn't bring himself to speak. He's a tall, lean built man, The majority of his muscle power being in his legs. He's no runner, though. He has shoulder length wavy black hair, with bangs he keeps tucked to the side. He's occasionally seen in a pony tail when he's working. His face his clear of any blemish other than a yellow-purple bruise-like splotch on his left cheek, the result of a mugging when he was 19.
Clothing:
Antony is just like many other suburban young men. He wears tight-ish black jeans and black boots, a graphic Tee or some other unremarkable shirt, and a heavy jacket/coat combo when it's cold.
Personality:
Antony is a strange individual. He is very comfortable around people and social situations. He isn't afraid to make friends or make a fool of himself for the sake of putting on a show. He always tries to find ways to implement jokes into every aspect of life, but takes things seriously when he needs to. He pays very close attention to detail and takes honor very seriously. He always wishes for life to be fair, just, pure, and virtuous. He's done a few bad things here and there, but he always found them to be a last resort. He likes poetry and literature, as he write often and fluently. He is a computer whiz (Shame it's the apocalypse) and loves technology. HE loves playing and creating music of any kind, and will often find himself patting beats into his thighs like drums. He loves any sort of art.He's good at making decisions, yet his nihilistic attitude can cause him to make strange ones. He falls in love easily and loves being romantic and sensitive. He is by no means a "Manly Man", yet he can perform manly tasks just like the rest. Like carrying heavy things. Or drinking.
Other:
Antony absolutely abhors those with no virtue. He finds raiders respectable if they have no choice, but the murderous thieves that a majority of mankind has become are his greatest enemies. He views them as filthy scum that need to be cleansed.
Inventory:
  • Backpack
  • Full Water Bottle
  • Self Defence Knife
  • Shemagh
  • September 2007's Guitar Player Monthly Magazine
  • Medium Blanket
  • One Change of Clothes
  • Some Food
  • Zippo Lighter
Biography:
(Work on it later lol)
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So begins...

Antony Vasilev's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Isabella Belinski Character Portrait: Antony Vasilev

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Antony stared blankly at his television set, his features emotionless as the screen fizzled out into a blur of static. He took a moment to let it all sink in. "It's all gone now, then... This is it?" He'd contemplate to himself. He'd wipe his brow as a bead of sweat trickled down and onto the wet shemagh wrapped around his mouth. Other than being incredibly toxic and life threatening, the Haze seemed to trap or generate heat. Antony cast his gaze away from the television out to the crack between the boards on his windows. He squinted and looked up the yellow fog, it's rotten fingers picking at every crack and chip in his house. The Haze had been around for only a few days, but millions had already died. Whether they were fighting for food and weapons, or defending themselves, many people died. He stood with a sigh, a light gray t-shirt plastered to his skin with sweat and thin black jeans on his legs. He'd walk across his barren living room, turning the TV off as he passed. "It's a miracle the electricity is still on... Probably not for long." He'd walk into his kitchen, appliances strewn around and furniture upended, cannibalized for barricades. He lean over the sink, twisting the knob. Nothing but a few sad drips trickled out. Antony reached out and caught the drips on his hands, sadly contemplating. He'd rub the water into his finger tips and sigh, standing back up. He'd put his hands on his hips and survey the floor. His backpack was laying flat, several items laying around it. Food, water, clothes, etc. He's shake his head and kneel down, shoveling the items into the bag. "This is fucking crazy. I'm actually going outside." He'd say to himself. He'd toss his bag across his shoulder, swiping a hefty knife off the counter as he passed. He'd purchased the knife shortly after he was assaulted a few years back. He thoughtfully stroked his purple-yellow splotched cheek, looking toward the door. He couldn't help but let his tired mind wander back to the thought of his friends and family.

He hadn't spoken to his parents in a long while, and he was afraid he'd never get to. He thought of his neighbors; the few souls he could count on. He'd been festering in worry over them the past few days. He'd finally leave the house and see if his fears were to be realized. He looked around his small house in sorrow. He'd bite his lip as his mind washed away with memories. The pride of purchasing a house, house parties, having girls over, laying on the couch contemplating life, and countless others. He'd look across the wrecked rubble that was once his pride and joy, and then out to the unforgiving haze. All he could think of was the screaming he could hear from his home in the first days. The coughing, the vomiting, the gunshots shattering through his home. This was his life now. All he owned was the clothes on his back and the things in his bag. He'd approach the door and take hold of the hammer dangling by the hook on one of the boards nailed across his door. He'd pry the nails from each board, one-by-one clattering to the ground like his forgotten securities. He's throw the boards away with conviction. "This is my life. I won't die alive." He thought to himself. He'd dramatically kick the door open once the nails were all freed, the wood splintering and thwacking against the frame. He'd immediately cringe as the Haze began to creep into his home and onto his face, the familiar coppery smell invading his nostrils, visibility only about half a mile. "That was loud..." He'd turn his eyes to the house only a few paces away from his. Isabella's. He'd silently pray to the possibility of divinity that she was okay as he crept up to her front door, careful not to spook her if she saw him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Isabella Belinski Character Portrait: Antony Vasilev

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What a way to go out... She thought as she sat there on the couch, flipping through the page of a novel she had read at least twenty times before. Isabella just sipped her bottle of water that she had been for the past few days. The tv was useless, the lights maybe on for another day or two max and all the while no phones were on either. She felt the impending doom of it all. She heard the gunshots for a few days as people began to panic and worry. Not to mention the Haze killing everyone off by the millions. With a heavy sigh, she set the book down and checked over her supplies and checked it all off her list of completed things to do. Clothes: Check, Food: Check, Water: Check Shotgun loaded: Check, Spare Shells: Check...everything seemed to be in order. She nodded to herself and sheathed her tactical knife into her holster and brought her shotgun up the stairs with her as she headed for her bedroom.

The Master bedroom was nothing grand but it had a single window that she had covered with a blanket. Downstairs had been the same, the front door boarded from the inside and only leaving a door that would be blocked to only let it open partially. A trick her father taught her. She moved the blanket to look down into the street, nothing moving as far as she could tell. She then heard something...kicking coming from the next door house. Poor S.O.B...someone found him. Wait...no he was coming out and towards her house "Shit.." She said as she went down to the door and looked through the peephole to see him coming right for her home "Damn man...common sense" She said as she went for a window to the side of the door and opened it partially, bringing her bandana over her mouth "Hey...back door. Stay low and quiet. Last thing I need is to get shot at" She said and shut the window, heading for the back door and stood at it. When he arrived, she would open it and let him in.