Survival of the fittest RP- Matt Lyman

From Cheezs Wiki

Name: Matt Lyman

Nickname: Stig

Age: 29

Weight: 152lbs

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Brown

Appearence:

Long, dishevelled hair that looks like it hasn't seen a comb since long before the outbreak happened. Wears army boots and trousers, a red Tshirt and a black hoodie. Roughly 6 feet tall. Wears a set of webbing with several extra pouches. Thin and wiry.

Primary weapon: Armalite AR-7 w/ scope

Secondary Weapon: Browning BDM pistol

Small Melee 1: Hunting knife

Small Melee 2: Handaxe

Equipment:

A rolled up hammock, binoculars, various food and drink items (Mainly chocolate bars, soda, ETC), lighter, cigarettes, rope, 3 carabiners, Mimi-Mag type flashlight

Backstory:

Born and raised in a small rural town. Growing up in an area where pretty much everyone is into hunting, it was inevitable he got into it too. From an early age he'd pretend to be hunting deer with a popgun. He grew up to be a pretty good marksman and survivalist. When the outbreak hit his town, he had no idea what it was, but he did know there was no way in hell he was staying to find out. He grabbed his hunting gear and legged it into the woods, shooting any 'crazies' who tried to stop him. After several weeks, he approached the town, not knowing what he'd find. Everyone had been turned. He went back into the woods, living for several months off of game he caught. This stopped as soon as he found zombified animals in his traps. It was during this time that he learned the benefits of sleeping somewhere high up. When he realised he could no longer survive on animals he caught, he decided to see if there were any areas where there were still survivors.

Writing Sample:

The zombie took a couple more steps forward. He now had a clear shot. Bang. It dropped, a good part of its head splattered against the wall. Matt smiled. He worked the bolt and stood up. Man, am I hungry! He jogged over to the zombie, made sure it was dead and stepped over it. He looked inside the gas station, rifle at the ready. Just as he'd thought, that was the only one. He went inside and started grabbing stuff. Drink, cigarettes, food, it was all good. He leant his rifle against a shelf and tore open a chocolate bar. Something hit him from behind and he fell over, twisting as he did so so he landed on his back. The zombie's teeth were inches away from him, his rifle out of reach. "Shit!" He grabbed his knife, pulled it out of it's sheath and slammed it into the zombie's eye, angling it diagonally up. The zombie stiffened then went limp. Matt lay there for a moment, his heart beating rapidly. "Fucking careless." he whispered, pulling the knife out and wiping it before returning it to its sheath.