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Katya Werner

"Keep your hopes up and everything will turn out fine."

0 · 1,316 views · located in The New World

a character in “The Will to Survive: The New World's Order”, originally authored by KonamiCode, as played by RolePlayGateway


Katya Werner


ImageName: Katya Sara Werner
“A lot of people call me Kat. I guess it’s just easier.”

Age: 20
”It’s going by so fast.”

Height/Weight: 5’4”, 125 lbs.
Appearance: Katya’s hair is a natural white-blonde with very subtle golden tones that are really only visible in broad daylight. It hits evenly between her jaw and shoulders, framing her face nicely. The slight curl it has always gives it a messy look regardless of whether or not it’s been tossed around or not. The brightness of it makes her stand out immensely, so she’ll often have a plain grey knit hat pulled over it with only the few pieces right around her face escaping it. She’s the type to burn rather than tan, so her skin stays at a fair peach color, always with a slight pink to it. In great contrast with her hair and skin, her eyes are a very dark brown, almost appearing black. They normally have a bright and curious sort of gleam to them.
As required with the dangers she’s faced with, her clothing favors mobility and conventionality over style and comfort. The only parts of her wardrobe that stay consistent are her dark brown combat-style boots that cover most of her shins and calves, the aforementioned hat and a very worn black zip-up hoodie with a light grey stripe across the midsection. She prefers to stick to tank-tops, t-shirts and jeans, though she’ll let herself slip into a pair of shorts on occasion if they’re in a safe enough place for a few days. In cooler weather, she’ll go for a simple sweater or sweatshirt or just add a button-up overshirt under her jacket, also adding a scarf depending on just how colder it gets. She’s always wearing her belt with her knife on it, and she carries a medium-sized blue duffel bag that most of her gear is kept in.
”There’s no room for fancy shoes and makeovers anymore.”

Personality: Once a very bold and rash girl, she’s transformed into someone more distant who keeps to herself unless she’s completely confident in her words. She’s also learned to not trust others easily, and is wary of strangers, although she knows that her own survival hangs heavily on the help of others. Once she warms up to someone, it’s very easy for her to become attached to them. Definitely not a good thing considering how easily people come and go these days. If she’s familiar enough with someone, whether they’re close or not, their wellbeing will become as important to her as her own. Despite the more reserved nature she’s become accustomed to, she isn’t shy by any means. That is, unless you manage to embarrass her, which isn’t a difficult task to accomplish—in that case, she’ll clam up, immediately trying to find the easiest way to pretend she was never in the conversation. She also isn’t very open about her earlier life, mainly because she doesn’t like thinking back to the way things were.
She thinks very highly of her uncle since he was her savior and only real tether to life before the outbreak, despite his belligerent and uncouth nature. She became very attached to him, seeing him as more of a father figure than anything. The same goes for Haus, him being her only constant source of comfort.
When it comes to handling the infected, she’s proficient enough, but it still feels like something she’ll never really get used to. They used to absolutely terrify her, but now they unnerve her more than anything.
”I’m trying my best, so just give me some credit, alright?”

Equipment: The only gun she feels comfortable using is the simple Glock 19 that she’s had since the beginning of the infection, given to her by her uncle, which she keeps tucked into the back waistband of her jeans for easy access. She’s hesitant to handle any larger or heavier gun, and so she doesn’t carry one with her, convinced she’d never use it effectively. She has a hefty amount of ammo for her pistol. It’s hard to say when she started ‘collecting’ them, but whenever she finds a knife she likes, she holds onto it—she has a simple pocket knife with a cherrywood handle, an iridescent butterfly knife and a fully black combat knife that normally stay tucked away in her backpack, and a bowie knife that she keeps in a sheath on her belt. The rest of the contents of her bag includes a few small bags of trail mix, sunflower seeds, several things of canned vegetables and dog food, a canteen of water, gauze and a small bottle of alcohol, a bar of soap, painkillers, a lighter, a tennis ball, half a roll of duct tape, a copy of 1984 by George Orwell and a handful of dog treats.
”It’s better to have too much than not enough.”

ImageBackstory: Katya was the only child of a meek upper-class family. Although she wasn’t able to spend much time with them due to how their work patterns fit around her school hours, she was still very close with the both of them. She was also always very close with her uncle, who was sure she was taken care of when her parents weren’t around. When the outbreak started, her family was as unprepared as you could get. Her parents tried to pass it off as some average illness that they’d have under control within weeks, but her uncle knew better. Katya was more than hesitant about it all at first, but her uncle rightfully convinced her that it was dangerous—her parents were too stubborn to accept that this was no common cold, and they needed to get away from the city before things got too serious. She ended up leaving with him in the night, in absolute shambles over having to just abandon her parents like that. It’s a burden that still weighs on her shoulders even to this day, but she knew that staying wasn’t an option.
At one point, they made a wrong turn while looking through a few buildings and came faced with a huge group of infected that noticed them almost immediately. Without missing a beat, Katya’s uncle told her to run. He started running in the another direction, making as much noise as he was able to get them to follow after him, and, in panic, Katya went back the way they came, running until she could hardly breathe. When she caught her breath she tried to go back for him, but even after hours of searching, she couldn’t find him. He’d told her plenty that they wouldn’t be able to make it together forever with just the two of them, and she knew that the chance that he survived was slim.
”I wish I could go back to just worrying about chemistry homework.”

Face Claim: Brea Grant

Extra: Early on, she found a several-month old bull terrier roaming around on its own. She took it in, using the excuse that he’d be a good guard dog one day. Named Haus in an attempt to at least make him seem sort of intimidating, he’s grown up to be more of a mellow companion than anything.
”Not the toughest guy, but he’s good company.”


So begins...

Katya Werner's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Katya Werner Character Portrait: Charlotte "Charlie" Kennedy Character Portrait: Silas John Barker Character Portrait: Alexander Kennedy Character Portrait: Ryan Gates-Lamont
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Katya Werner

Katya gave a silent sigh as she stood pressed against the door, listening to the heavy footsteps on the floor below her. She’d been there since she woke up, only a half hour or so ago, trying to come up with the simplest way to get out of her situation. When Haus nudged her awake, the first thing she’d noted was the sounds of the ‘guests’ that joined her in the vacant office building as she slept. When she entered the building, she’d thoroughly checked the first two floors, unable to go any higher because of the stairs having collapsed. One of the doors on the lower level was hanging off of its hinges, but that was why she’d chosen a second-floor room with a working lock to sleep in. After not seeing any infected in the area, she assumed it would be a good enough place to hunker down and rest… and look where that landed her.

After a few more minutes, she finally decided on a plan. Carefully, she turned the lock and opened the door. The hallway was empty save for a desk that was once used to barricade a door, but now sat overturned across the middle of the hallway. Downstairs was last on Katya’s escape list; the less close-combat she had to get into, the better. Keeping her steps light and quick, she looked into each room as she walked by it. They all looked roughly the same; just old offices, some with desks and chairs still in them, some completely vacant, but all of them somehow had the window blocked, whether it was boarded shut, covered by a bookcase, or otherwise impassable.

The last room, however, was a godsend. It looked like it had been undergoing construction at one point, but now it was just a mess of caution tape and useless materials. A section of the wall was completely missing, and she could only imagine how that had happened. With a shrug to clear her thoughts, she walked forward into the room until she met the open space. As far as she could tell, there were no stray infected wandering the streets below. At the base of the building, overgrown bushes and foliage looked like it would make a decent, if uncomfortable, cushion at the base of the ten foot drop. It was the only real choice she had, anyways—trying to get out though the bottom floor would only end badly and she knew it. Sighing, she sat down at the edge, the broken bits of concrete making it less than comfortable, and tugged her bag off, dropping it and wincing at the ‘thud’ it made against the ground. Moments later she motioned Haus over, grabbing him and pulling him close before he could protest. “This is going to suck.” She muttered to herself before shifting off of the edge, moving herself so her companion wouldn’t take the brunt of the small fall.

Ryan Gates-Lamont

It was hot. That was the only thing going through Ryan’s mind as he walked—he felt like he could pass out any moment. The fact that he was wearing a jacket and had been walking the same straight path for nearly four hours didn’t help his situation much. The map he’d taken from an old tourist trap only a day earlier had told him that the next decent sized town was twenty-two miles west, and so that’s the direction he’d been heading towards since then. All the houses he passed were either vacant or occupied by some undesirables, who he preferred not to tango with unless necessary. That said, it was an utterly boring hike. He didn’t expect to see any other living, breathing people, either—his last encounter had been less than two weeks ago, and the group was less than welcoming.

At the next steep hill he crossed, what he saw at the other side was a sight for sore eyes. Well, it would have been if his last run-in with people hadn’t gone so badly. About twenty yards down he could see several figures, all moving deliberately enough to be one-hundred percent living flesh and blood. Plus, the dog he saw next to them probably wouldn’t be hanging around if the figures were zombies. Without missing a beat, Ryan pulled his revolver from its holster and hauled ass behind a tree only a few feet away from him. It was thick enough for him to hide behind, and would provide good enough cover while he surveyed the far-off figures. He’d watch them, see if they seemed to pose a threat, and whether or not they were would guide his next actions.

After only a few seconds of studying, however, he began to relax his senses. One of them was a kid. They couldn’t be all that bad if there was a kid there, right? ”Sure, why not. Gonna pass out from exhaustion anyways, might as well have some people around to make sure I don’t get eaten.” Sliding the gun back into his holster, he came out from behind the trunk and resumed his trek along the road, not even trying to keep quiet—it would be better if they noticed him now rather than him accidentally surprising them.