Post by Ryder Winchester Crowe on Aug 22, 2012 12:10:21 GMT -5
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FIRST MIDDLE LASTTHATS MY NAME DONT WEAR IT OUT
Full Name: Ryder Winchester Crowe
Nickname(s): Ry, Win
Canon/Original/Adoptable: original
Birthday/Place of Birth: November 5, 1978/ Bozeman, Montana
Current Residence: He was on his honeymoon in Savannah, Ga when the walkers started...well, walking, so he's still in the south.
Family: his mama is dead. his wife and unborn child are dead. he's not sure where his papa is.[/left]
IN A BROKEN MIRROR
[/color]Height: 6'2
Body type: Ryder enjoys working out and staying in shape. He is has nice muscle definition but not too much and maintains a healthy weight.
Skin tone: tawny
Eye color: grey-blue
Hair color and typical style: sandy blonde cut short but longer on the top
Played By: Cam Gigandet
Special Markings :
My Style: Jared isn't much into fashion, but he wears clothes that fit him well and will withstand his line of work. Mostly its jeans and leather jackets but sometimes he'll sport a pair of leather pants for the hell of it. Shit kickers on his feet and weapons in every place they can fit. Yeah. That's his style.[/right]
IT'S GOOD, Y'ALL
[/color]Likes:
Home cooking
His yellow lab named Honey
Motorcycles and the open road-- riding for days and days
Whiskey
Peace and Quiet
Dislikes:
Religion
Liars
Traffic
Fast Food
That freaking missing sock
Dancing
What was/is your characters dream/goals: Ry hopes to make it back to Montana so he can find his father.
Fears: If there is no God and no heaven, then where are his mama, wife, and unborn child now?[/left]
Its Who I Am
[/color]Describe your character's personality : Ryder is a really good man. He was a hard-working cowboy and god-fearing christian; the kind of person that tried to stay positive and keep a smile on his face no matter what the situation.
Though he has lost his faith in religion, he has not lost his faith in mankind, and does what ever it takes to protect them from the walking dead and those living that try to take advantage.
Relentless is another good word to describe this cowboy.
Strengths :
He has a left hook like a freight train
Can shoot a bottle cap off a lady's head without messing up her 'do'
Determination
He is a good man that does right. Karma gives back sometimes
Loyal
Weaknesses :
Religion
He hates to break the law, even if it is for good
Crown Royal and 7-Up
A woman's tears
Wild Horses (literally and figuratively)
Habits:
He chews his fingernails and rubs his head when he's nervous
Flaws::
He trusts too easily
his fingernails are always chewed to the quick and sometimes bloody. yuck.[/right]
Its A Gift
[/color]Skills and Abilities:
This modern day cowboy can do lots of things. He can break a wild stallion. He can run a ranch. He can handle a gun and fist fight like nobodies business. Lets just say he can get the job done and he doesn't have any formal training. He can't dance though. No, the boy cannot dance. Who cares about that now though? Who dances anymore?[/left]
We Ain't In Kansas Anymore...
Ryder Winchester Crowe was born in the foothills of the mountains of Bozeman, Montana.
He was the offspring of a farmer/rancher and his young bride, as well as the son of a preacher man. His father was not only a hardworking farmer and doting family man; he was also the reverend of a small southern Baptist church in town.
Growing up on the ranch, Ryder was a happy youth. He was a loving son, a studious pupil and a god-fearing Christian boy.
The child lived to make his parents proud, and how very proud James and Nora were. They could not have asked for a better behaved little boy. He excelled in everything that he did, stayed out of trouble, and was cuter than a button. He was loved and well cared for. Wanted for nothing. And his home was absolutely beautiful.
Time took him from childhood to the teenage years, and though his dreams had grown with him; Ryder was still a good kid. He enjoyed what every normal youth did; sports, ranch life, girls, adventure, and used his better judgment to remain devout in his faith. His parents and the church were so pleased with him, and he felt a satisfaction for having an inner strength which kept him committed.
Of course, his faith never stopped him from having a good time out of life. He never broke the law, but he broke a few hearts, snuck out a time or two, skinny-dipped and shot his papa's gun without permission.
It was one hell of a good time.
The party ended not long after Ryder graduated high school. He was really itching to get out of Bozeman and go to college, but his father needed him home to work the ranch and his mother's health was failing.
Ryder was nothing if not a good son. He exchanged high learning for blisters on his hands and dirt on his boots. But he loved the life and he loved his family.
His mother became frail and he spent a lot of time by her side. Ryder wasn't exactly a mama's boy but...well...¦he adored his mama.
Having been taught that God was a loving deity and angels were mankind's protectors; Ry could never have expected what was to become of his life.
His mama died and his father became a shell of a man. He had always been a drinker, but he started drowning in it, and there was nothing Ry could do to stop it.
He worked the ranch and helped his father to move on past it, helped him with the church and became a substitute preacher when his papa couldn't speak to his parishioners.
Soon enough the young man found he had a calling, and decided that the Lord's path was the one he needed to follow.
That is until he saw the girl that would become his wife, and he knew he had to touch her; to be with her, which was something a good preacher man shouldn't think about.
Eventually he and this woman tied the knot. He still took care of his father but his wish to become a man of God was forgotten by their happiness.
They had a very passionate, unchristian-like affair which his father didn't approve of but accepted, and it was on their honeymoon in Savannah, Ga. when Ryder found out she was pregnant with his child.
It was the happiness day of his life. They planned on naming the baby (if it was a girl) after his mother Nora.
But Fate had a different plan for the pair.
They were still on their honeymoon when the dead started walking again and before they realized the risk, his new wife was bitten by one of the...things.
The fever took her within a day and Ryder felt like his heart was shattered. He had never felt such pain and never would again...
How wrong he was.
That pain was multiplied when his beloved rose from the dead to attack him, and having to protect himself, used an axe from the fire emergency box to split her head.
The man lost all faith. Faith in his religion, in him self...what could he believe now that he knew all he'd ever know had been a lie? God. What a joke.
Bad Horror Movies Are The WORST
The evening was dark and the storm like God’s wraith, but Jared enjoyed nights like this. Since the rain chased everyone in doors he liked to get on the bike and try to tame the abandoned road, as wild and wet as it was. Of course, the hazard aspect was like a medicine to the young hunter. Something had to fill the void and danger usually did the trick; which was way better an intoxicant than anger was. But the night wasn’t over and if it didn’t end with him standing in the down pour and cursing that aforementioned deity, then he would be mighty lucky.
Something about the rain brought out the worst in his anger, too.
Wearing blue jeans and a gun metal gray fitted leather jacket with armor pads, Jared held his face up to the cool rain for a moment. The droplets felt like needles hitting his closed lids, and though it stung, the faith deprived man let them fall. He was a martyr, even when there was no cause.
Finally the hunter tugged the helmet on over his tawny head and flung a leg over the seat of his motorcycle, using the other to kick start the beast. In a blur he sped out onto the highway; throwing beads of moisture out behind him.
The young man rode the night for the better part of an hour before he came upon the wreckage at the side of the road. Swerving onto the gravely shoulder, Jared jumped from the bike, dropping the helmet on the ground as he sprinted to the broken car.
Through the damaged front window Jared could clearly make out two forms; one in the drivers seat and a smaller on the passenger side. “Hey! Y’all okay?!” he called out, but it was barely perceptible over the noise of the raging weather.
Lightening cracked and Jared cringed, rushing to pry the passenger side door open. He knew they didn’t have much time to waste, as the smell of gasoline was apparent even over the musk of the rain.
Once he had the door open, the hunter leaned in and saw the woman and her child in the front seat; both thankfully wearing belts across them. The lady wasn’t conscious, though the child was wailing and shaking the woman. Apparently her name was Winter.
Reaching in, Jared unbuckled the kid and tried to pull her out, but she started wrestling with him, making it mighty tough to do so.
“Shh, now…I’m tryin’ to help ya.” He told her firmly, but kindly, as he didn’t want to frighten her more than she was.
Once the youngin’ was free from the wreckage, Jared darted over to his bike, where he settled the child on the damp ground. He picked up his helmet and handed it to her, giving her as honest a smile as he could muster.
“Put that on if you get afraid. It muffles the sound of the thunder and lightening, and it’ll keep your head dry.”
He didn’t know if the words would help at all or if she would even trust him, but he had to hope. “I’ma go and save your mama now, so you just stay put.”
And then he sprinted back over to the car, where a fire had begun crawling from under the hood.
The driver’s side door was stuck when he tried to force it open, so Jared rushed through the passenger side again, lightly trying to shake her awake.
“Hey lady, we gotta’ get you out now. I’ma have to jostle you a little.” The female was still unconscious but he didn’t want to just move her without giving her a head’s up first.
The young woman was pretty wedged in there but Jared was able to pull her free, cradling her in his arms as he raced back to join the youngin’.
The rain was coming down in rivulets, and as they hit her forehead, the raindrops turned crimson as they mixed with the blood from her head wound.
“Ah geez! Winter, you gotta’ wake up for me now.” Jared pleaded, and his gaze went to the wide eyed youth’s. “Her name is Winter, ain’t it?!”
Scribe Time
Name/Alias:
Your Age:
Other character(s) at STL:
Ryder Winchester Crowe was born in the foothills of the mountains of Bozeman, Montana.
He was the offspring of a farmer/rancher and his young bride, as well as the son of a preacher man. His father was not only a hardworking farmer and doting family man; he was also the reverend of a small southern Baptist church in town.
Growing up on the ranch, Ryder was a happy youth. He was a loving son, a studious pupil and a god-fearing Christian boy.
The child lived to make his parents proud, and how very proud James and Nora were. They could not have asked for a better behaved little boy. He excelled in everything that he did, stayed out of trouble, and was cuter than a button. He was loved and well cared for. Wanted for nothing. And his home was absolutely beautiful.
Time took him from childhood to the teenage years, and though his dreams had grown with him; Ryder was still a good kid. He enjoyed what every normal youth did; sports, ranch life, girls, adventure, and used his better judgment to remain devout in his faith. His parents and the church were so pleased with him, and he felt a satisfaction for having an inner strength which kept him committed.
Of course, his faith never stopped him from having a good time out of life. He never broke the law, but he broke a few hearts, snuck out a time or two, skinny-dipped and shot his papa's gun without permission.
It was one hell of a good time.
The party ended not long after Ryder graduated high school. He was really itching to get out of Bozeman and go to college, but his father needed him home to work the ranch and his mother's health was failing.
Ryder was nothing if not a good son. He exchanged high learning for blisters on his hands and dirt on his boots. But he loved the life and he loved his family.
His mother became frail and he spent a lot of time by her side. Ryder wasn't exactly a mama's boy but...well...¦he adored his mama.
Having been taught that God was a loving deity and angels were mankind's protectors; Ry could never have expected what was to become of his life.
His mama died and his father became a shell of a man. He had always been a drinker, but he started drowning in it, and there was nothing Ry could do to stop it.
He worked the ranch and helped his father to move on past it, helped him with the church and became a substitute preacher when his papa couldn't speak to his parishioners.
Soon enough the young man found he had a calling, and decided that the Lord's path was the one he needed to follow.
That is until he saw the girl that would become his wife, and he knew he had to touch her; to be with her, which was something a good preacher man shouldn't think about.
Eventually he and this woman tied the knot. He still took care of his father but his wish to become a man of God was forgotten by their happiness.
They had a very passionate, unchristian-like affair which his father didn't approve of but accepted, and it was on their honeymoon in Savannah, Ga. when Ryder found out she was pregnant with his child.
It was the happiness day of his life. They planned on naming the baby (if it was a girl) after his mother Nora.
But Fate had a different plan for the pair.
They were still on their honeymoon when the dead started walking again and before they realized the risk, his new wife was bitten by one of the...things.
The fever took her within a day and Ryder felt like his heart was shattered. He had never felt such pain and never would again...
How wrong he was.
That pain was multiplied when his beloved rose from the dead to attack him, and having to protect himself, used an axe from the fire emergency box to split her head.
The man lost all faith. Faith in his religion, in him self...what could he believe now that he knew all he'd ever know had been a lie? God. What a joke.
Bad Horror Movies Are The WORST
The evening was dark and the storm like God’s wraith, but Jared enjoyed nights like this. Since the rain chased everyone in doors he liked to get on the bike and try to tame the abandoned road, as wild and wet as it was. Of course, the hazard aspect was like a medicine to the young hunter. Something had to fill the void and danger usually did the trick; which was way better an intoxicant than anger was. But the night wasn’t over and if it didn’t end with him standing in the down pour and cursing that aforementioned deity, then he would be mighty lucky.
Something about the rain brought out the worst in his anger, too.
Wearing blue jeans and a gun metal gray fitted leather jacket with armor pads, Jared held his face up to the cool rain for a moment. The droplets felt like needles hitting his closed lids, and though it stung, the faith deprived man let them fall. He was a martyr, even when there was no cause.
Finally the hunter tugged the helmet on over his tawny head and flung a leg over the seat of his motorcycle, using the other to kick start the beast. In a blur he sped out onto the highway; throwing beads of moisture out behind him.
The young man rode the night for the better part of an hour before he came upon the wreckage at the side of the road. Swerving onto the gravely shoulder, Jared jumped from the bike, dropping the helmet on the ground as he sprinted to the broken car.
Through the damaged front window Jared could clearly make out two forms; one in the drivers seat and a smaller on the passenger side. “Hey! Y’all okay?!” he called out, but it was barely perceptible over the noise of the raging weather.
Lightening cracked and Jared cringed, rushing to pry the passenger side door open. He knew they didn’t have much time to waste, as the smell of gasoline was apparent even over the musk of the rain.
Once he had the door open, the hunter leaned in and saw the woman and her child in the front seat; both thankfully wearing belts across them. The lady wasn’t conscious, though the child was wailing and shaking the woman. Apparently her name was Winter.
Reaching in, Jared unbuckled the kid and tried to pull her out, but she started wrestling with him, making it mighty tough to do so.
“Shh, now…I’m tryin’ to help ya.” He told her firmly, but kindly, as he didn’t want to frighten her more than she was.
Once the youngin’ was free from the wreckage, Jared darted over to his bike, where he settled the child on the damp ground. He picked up his helmet and handed it to her, giving her as honest a smile as he could muster.
“Put that on if you get afraid. It muffles the sound of the thunder and lightening, and it’ll keep your head dry.”
He didn’t know if the words would help at all or if she would even trust him, but he had to hope. “I’ma go and save your mama now, so you just stay put.”
And then he sprinted back over to the car, where a fire had begun crawling from under the hood.
The driver’s side door was stuck when he tried to force it open, so Jared rushed through the passenger side again, lightly trying to shake her awake.
“Hey lady, we gotta’ get you out now. I’ma have to jostle you a little.” The female was still unconscious but he didn’t want to just move her without giving her a head’s up first.
The young woman was pretty wedged in there but Jared was able to pull her free, cradling her in his arms as he raced back to join the youngin’.
The rain was coming down in rivulets, and as they hit her forehead, the raindrops turned crimson as they mixed with the blood from her head wound.
“Ah geez! Winter, you gotta’ wake up for me now.” Jared pleaded, and his gaze went to the wide eyed youth’s. “Her name is Winter, ain’t it?!”
Scribe Time
Name/Alias:
Your Age:
Other character(s) at STL:
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