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Royce Jones

"Life's over, all that's left is surviving."

0 · 142 views · located in Reagald, Colorado

a character in “Zombie Town, U.S.A.”, as played by Quantumlegacy


Name: Royce Jones

Age: 37

Appearance: Royce stands at roughly five feet nine inches. It's hard to tell if that's his full height or not as he's always slouching. He wears a large ruined brown trench coat over a dirty brown sweater and two pairs of dirty blue jeans. He hasn't bathed in probably years and it is really apparent by the layers of dirt caked to his skin and clothes. He has a large scraggly black beard. His face is covered in hair, dirt, cuts and a variety of other things.

Height: 5' 9"

Weight: 169 lbs


Royce was known to the rest of the town before the zombies as Rj, or Crazy Rj. He wasn't actually crazy though it was just an act he put forth so people wouldn't bother him or his stuff while he lay in the open. He's got a rather skewed look on life due to his history and well the zombies adding to his misery. He is usually unsociable and tends to stray from other people in person. He is angry at most of the towns folks and world for putting him in this situation and that causes a lot of his personality to be consumed with anger. Due to acting crazy for so long, the loss of his family and the fact that the dead have now come to plague them. He may have actually lost a small portion of his sanity. Really who would even be alive now that hasn't lost something of it.

When he's not in a drunken fit or hiding he still tries to keep tabs on people. Making sure he really isn't the last person left in this world even if he does hate them. He'd rather not be the last one left. Even though he has a grudge against most of the people he once knew. He knows now that it isn't about living a life anymore. That now it is only about trying to survive to the next day which is why he still seeks out others. He knows that is wasn't all of humanity that killed his family. Just one really fucked up individual, but that doesn't really help.


Clothing:Long Brown Trench Coat, Brown Sweater, Gray Tank Top, Two Pairs of Blue Jeans.

Weapons: Knife made from a rusted tin can. Rusted 9mm with no bullets or clip case.

Other equipment of note: Small Radio, Screwdriver, Ballpoint Hammer, Claw Hammer, Shopping Cart, CB Radio, Other Junk,


Before the apocaplyse he'd moved here to Reagald, Colorado with his Wife, Sara and his daughter Penny. He had accepted a job as a manager in a packaging plant. The money was good, the town was small and it was a perfect place for his little girl to grow up.

Things went pleasantly for a few years before a disgruntled worker he'd fired came to his house. A fight erupted as the man tried to attack him in his rage. He blamed him for all the past failures the man had in his life. He blamed Royce for his wife leaving him among other things.

Royce had gotten in a few good hits but it didn't matter. The man had brought a gun and shot him in the shoulder. As Royce lay there bleeding on the ground the man turned to his wife who'd walked in on the end of the fight.

When he awoke he was in the hospital, alone. His family had been killed before the man turned the gun on himself. It wasn't long before he'd slipped into a deep depression and had begun drowning himself in alcohol and drug use. Eventually they had to let him go from his job, and he lost everything. Most of the town knew of him after the incident. He became one of a few homeless that lived in the town.

The worst part of all it that everyone in the town knew the guy that murdered his family. And they knew that he had been quickly degrading over the years.That is why he blamed everyone in the town for their deaths.

He'd spent five years on the streets living on despite him wishing he'd have died with them.

When everything hit the fan and the dead started rising. He was one of the first too know, having been asleep in a junkyard on the outskirts of town. He'd known from the talk around town that something terrible was coming. People had been preparing to fight some kind of war with the dead or something. A few even tried to ask him for advice, as if he'd know anything. Probably due to the crazy he spat at them every now and then. He spent the next six years avoiding his own death and occassionally helping someone alive out before he went back on his own.

During the first two years he had tried to stay with others. But as time went on he realized his only hope was to stay alone. The more people that were alive in one place was just a bigger beacon for the dead. Now he's holed himself up in the old junkyard and occasionally he'll turn on the CB Radio and try and see if anyone else is alive. He'd found it during his scavenging early on and has used it to tell people of any real danger spots he'd encountered to warn them from going there. He hadn't been sure anyone had been listening until some people started popping up with them.

So begins...

Royce Jones's Story

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Character Portrait: Royce Jones
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Royce - Old Junkyard on outskirts of town

Slowly Royce became aware that he was awake. Everything was still black but he could smell the familiar scent of death and metal. He groaned softly as he stretched his arms and legs out on the surface of the old bus seat. Opening one eye slowly he began to make out his surroundings slowly. The only thing he could focus on though was the slow pounding going on in his head.

He sat up opening his other eye once again trying to focus on anything other then the pounding. He was sitting in an old rusted out school bus. He'd had to clear away some of a pile a junk for a long time before he was able to get inside. It sat towards the center of a large pile of junk that is now basically his home. After clearing away enough junk to make a way into the bus from the outside, he had to remove everything inside it as well and then redecorate. It was a long process but Royce is more then glad that he had done it afterward.

His eyes focused on the dull light that eminated from a solar charged lantern he found. It was near dead so he knew that it'd be morning soon. He stood from the seat and headed over to a rather beat-up looking refridgerator. It was a dull red orange from the years of rusting excepted for a polished silver doorknob he'd attached to the door. Pulling on the knob the thing opened revealing cans of food. He yawned lazily as his eyes scanned the inside looking for something to eat. It wasn't long before he'd decided on the vienna sausages.

Grabbing the can from inside he close the door and turned to start heading for is makeshift table when he seen it. He held his breath and watched as the lone rotting bag of flesh that somehow had found it's way into the entrance crawled in. It looked directly at him as if it could see him, which royce knew to be impossible. It made a horrible sound as it detected his scent and tried to scramble to it's feet.

Dropping the can to the ground he turned to grab the thick lead pipe he kept next to the fridge. Twirling back around he dashed to the monster his grip tighting on the pipe. Bringing it down hard on the neck of the creature he knocked it back to the ground. Smashing it over and over again.

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Character Portrait: Royce Jones
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After he slowly came to realize that the rotter he'd been smashing to a pulp was nothing more then just that. Broken bones and masses of rotted flesh. It had been a recently turned zombie, he could tell by both the scent and the pool of blood that was forming.

"Sad to see another go. No wonder you managed to crawl in here buddy you were still partially there when you fell in, huh?" Royce spoke softly to the pooling flesh mound before turning his attention away and setting the gore covered pipe back in it's place he stopped for a moment. Letting the event soak into him. He didn't have anything entirely too important to do just yet, still to early or late depending on how you looked at it.

Slowly he shuffled about his small one room home fiddling with things before eventually heading to a ladder in the corner that led up out of the bus shell and into a cramped, rusted large commercial garbage container. There was an old couch up here as well and his desk where he sat for communicating on his CB. He could prop open the small plastic top only a few inches under the things above but it worked well enough to get to the city. There was a nice Oak table with a one missing original leg, instead there was baseball bat in it's place. On the right corner there was a kerosene hooded lantern. Royce murmered to himself about needing to find more kereosene as he fiddled with the knob some before pressing the ignition.

As the light bathed the inside of the dumpster he could see the pictures on the table clearer. He would spend the next few hours examining photo's of the city as it was a few we
k's ago. He'd been injured and overly nursing a sprained ankle so he hadn't been back out. He'd tell you it still hurt but it didn't. He was just afraid of going back outside. The reason he'd sprained his ankle in the first place had almost been the end of his crazy life.

He sat down at the desk after awhile and scanned through the CB hoping to hear someone. He hadn't heard from his regular few in a about two or more days. The zombies had knocked his extension antenna from the top of the pile and he still needed to fix that to get full power.

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Character Portrait: Royce Jones Character Portrait: David Spencer
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Dave since the break of dawn has been out and about, walking around the enclosed ruins of Reagald. Dave deep in thought found himself wandering further out in the settlement. Hm? Now where in the world did I wander off too? Dave thought to himself. He noticed it was pretty far out the one thing he noticed was the Old Junkyard only a few feet from him. The Junkyard? That was on the far side of town...I guess I've done enough walking for the day. Dave was about to turn around when he heard rustling from within. Dave wasn't sure what it was. He really hoped the zombies haven't found a way in. Dave contemplated running and warning others of a potential danger but there was the off chance it's just rats. He already is on a tenuous balance with the remaining citizens and if he screws this up...they may just let him go. Already this seems like a terrible idea, going inside a junkyard with potential danger that could take his life. Still Dave might as well inspect but he must do it quietly.

Dave wanders through the junkyard as he quietly stepped about. Although it would be hard to distinguish the foul, rotten smell of the zombies from the junkyard itself but thankfully he hasn't heard any moans. As he moved about it seemed that he could have been just hearing things. Just as he was ready to leave he heard what seemed to be...static? Dave searched around for the source as he soon came across a dead body. Finding this evidence made him worry, Maybe there are zombies about. Has the day finally come? Dave thought. Nervousness began to creep in as he started to tremble. Then he heard the static again as he quickly turned around knocking cans and other garbage over with a crash. "Crap!" Dave said under his breath, hoping none of the lames heard him. There was one thing that bothered him, if there is a corpse here beside did it come to be here? Dave knew by looking, and smelling, that this corpse was fresh. Somebody must have killed this poor fool but who?

Dave wondered if the the noises and this corpse are connected? Is there somebody else in this junkyard besides him? Dave figured the only thing that would live out here are possibly dogs and vermin but another person? Dave wasn't so sure but maybe it's a wayward survivor trying to outrun the dead. Whoever it was perhaps it could be helpful if Dave were to find him and asking him some questions about the corpse. Maybe even possibly telling him the location of where the zombies are coming from. The one problem is if he does find him is he friendly?