Vasile Cojocaru | 25 | Male
Location:
Noxton City
Mentions:
Meaghan "Mint" Schäfer

"We agreed to call him "Haiduc"- "The Outlaw". The meaning of the name was perfect, because of the black mask he has on his face," Ruxandra explained as the fluffy pup teethed on Vasile's finger. The look in Ruxandra's eyes at that moment... Vasile hadn't noticed it then, but looking back, it was obvious she was the only one to name the pup. She had paid for the pup herself, no one else had chipped in. She would have thought it would have been awkward to give him such a big gift like that, but she did, under the cover of her coworkers and Vasile had gladly accepted the gift.

Months later, the pup became his best friend and hiking buddy. He'd even give Haiduc his own backpack to wear. Whenever Vasile had the option of renting a kayak or canoe, he'd gladly do it and stick Haiduc in with him; propelling the vessel forward with a large dog in the way. But Haiduc was always up for an adventure, no matter what it was. It was easy to say he brought out the good in Vasile and taught him to slow down and enjoy the simpler things in life.

And now, here he was with his best friend in the middle of a catastrophe. It was unfortunate, but as long as Haiduc was with him, and the memories of Ruxandra he carried with him were there, he'd be okay. Haiduc kept a close pace with Vasile, only trotting forward when he caught whiff of a scent. He stopped once for a particularly long time before wagging his tail and prepared to roll around in the dead squirrel before Vasile barked out a sharp, "Nu e voie!" Haiduc raised his head as if to process the command to leave it alone and with an audible sigh, the large dog bumbled back to Vasile's side and walked just a little slower like a disappointed child who didn't get the toy he wanted.

They continued along until Haiduc surged forward. He was just about to start barking when Vasile said sharply, but keeping his voice down. "Nu! Haiduc, vino aici!" The black and white molosser looked back at him and Vasile added a "Tăcere!" to his command to hopefully keep the dog quiet. Last thing anyone needed was a barking dog with zombies around to attract them. Then he realized what Haiduc noticed-

A girl.

Could it be? He thought he was the only one left. But could she be trusted? Haiduc kept up his guard, but by no means was he an attack dog. He was a guard dog, ready to sound an alarm and intimidate but not to fight. He could have fought, but it wasn't exactly in Haiduc's personality to do that. Instead of getting out his knife, Vasile held out his hands and walked forward to where Haiduc was standing, tail up and waving slowly. Vasile wasn't too happy with a now in her arms- easily she could plant an arrow in Haiduc's chest and Vasile would most definitely not be happy with that.

Vasile Cojocaru | 25 | Male
Location:
Noxton City
Mentions:
Meaghan "Mint" Schäfer

"Vasilica... I'm really sick... Can you please... get me a drink?" Ruxandra was laying on the futon in their condo with Haiduc taking up most of the space. The dog was snuggled up against her underneath a blanket which she absently stroked his ears. Her eyes were full and her hair was a mess, even though Vasile tried to comb it a few times a day. Nodding, he returned with a glasses of water and a cool wash rag. He helped Ruxandra drink until she settled back down and thanked him.

"I don't know... what's gotten into me... I can't be sick, not like those people. I wasn't even actually bitten..."

...

Haiduc was on edge as the girl approached. He was rather wary around strangers until Vasile gave him the a-okay. Once the girl approached, his murky brown eyes looked her over, his gaze settling on the bow in her arms. Doesn't trust me. At least she's got some sense to try and protect herself. Haiduc was stiff-legged at his side and to relieve some of the tension, he looked down at his dog and uttered a quiet, but firm, "Şezi." With some reluctance in his movements, the sheepdog sat down somewhat lazily, leaning up against Vasile's leg.

At the girl's questions, Vasile raised an eyebrow and was a on the verge of blurting "Spit it out already!" until she finished. If she didn't have the confidence to speak, how would she have the confidence to defend herself with a weapon? "Vasile..." he said rather gruffly. With a pause he picked up with his dog's name and pointed a finger at him, "And Haiduc. We're not from here, call it a vacation gone wrong and we land in the shittiest place presently on Earth. How we survived? Just being holed up for awhile. Decided we needed some fresh air."

Fresh air... After Ruxandra turned, the normal pumpkin-cinnamon scent had been replaced with a repulsive odor that could only be described as the stench of death itself. And yet, he'd his away in his room with Haiduc, wondering what he was going to do while the reanimated corpse of his manager banged at the door. He remembered the moans and groans she'd made while stumbling around the condo. Even once, he swore he could smell her rancid breath through the door and it smelled like a decomposing carcass left in the sun. And to think, this is what it had come to.

With a quiet sigh, Vasile figured he should release his dog, to show he didn't have plans for his dog to year out the girl's throat. "Bine, gentil," he said. Haiduc slowly got up and moseyed over to the girl who'd introduced herself as "Mint" and began sniffing at her legs and shoes, giving no heed to the bow dangerously close to him.

Vasile Cojocaru | 25 | Male
Location:
Noxton City
Mentions:
Meaghan "Mint" Schäfer

Vasile woke up to the sound of Haiduc whining and pawing at the wooden door. He found it strange as he never heard the dog whine and do it so loudly. His eyes fluttered open as soon as he heard a crash against the door and he sprung from his bed, pushing Haiduc away. And slowly, Vasile opened the door just a crack to be met with the insane face of Ruxandra. It couldn't be her... This... thing that took over her body; it was a monster! But still... that monster had once been fun-loving Ruxandra. And now, he had to worry about being chewed apart by his manager.

He fortified the room, placing a chair underneath the door handle and pushing all a dresser in front of the door as well. It should keep her out while he figured out what to do. He would be okay if he lived off the contents of his hiking backpack. After all, he'd planned to go hiking that very week...

...

Losing interest with Mint, Haiduc lumbered away to go investigate more interesting manners. That left Vasile to talk with this "Mint" girl and find out more about her. He didn't even need to ask when she started talking. "There's not a soul around and you could try to find stuff. I don't know about what's left- haven't gotten out because I have little desire to be eaten alive by the dead." he said, ending in somewhat of a snobbish tone for little reason. Vasile's eyes wandered to Haiduc who was sniffing at fire hydrant before urinating on it and trotting back to Vasile, nudging his hand with his head.

Absently, he stroked Haiduc's dense fur, patting him a little. "And me? Well, I haven't got anywhere to go. I'm from Romania and my manager already made the call to have us sent back immediately. Of course, our request was denied, because of this... virus. No other plans other than to survive through it. And it'll just be me and my dog. Everyone else out there is likely dead or crazy. No sense in trusting someone who could have been anything before this all happened," he said, lowering his voice a little. He wasn't particularly dangerous and it was rare that he fought. He did recall the one time he'd gotten into a drunken bar fight with a man who was trying to hit on Ruxandra. The other man had started it when Vasile voiced his anger and displeasure at the other man.

Haiduc licked at Vasile's hand, but he pushed him away, ignoring the affection from his dog for the moment. He really hoped he didn't have to take Mint along somewhere. Who could he trust? Was he really going to trust her? At any given moment, she could let an arrow loose and that would be that.

|| Faustino Kanze || 30 || Rural Area || Open to approach – Adrian? ||

The huge man hunkered close to the floor, gripping his furred companion by the dark bandana at her neck, he had to fight to maintain his balance whilst making his gargantuan frame as small as possible – he could hear his breathing, it sounded so loud in his mind; and he was sure those walkers would pounce. He ran a hand down her back to keep her calm and from growling – he could see her hackles raised from the corner of his whiskey-coloured eyes, and he prayed she wouldn’t let out any sound. He waited for the corpse to pass before straightening up his immense six and a half foot frame. He stretched and scratched Amora between her ears, her mismatched eyes – blue and brown – reminding him of his only goal; Micaela. He rolled his huge shoulders and patted his thigh so that the canine would follow before he went to check the snares; sometimes she trotted in front of him, other times she would venture into the undergrowth. He began checking all his traps; most of the small snares were empty – but one of his larger ones had caught a deer. It was small, but it would feed him and his companion well enough. It must’ve only been a juvenile but he’d take whatever he could get.

Faustino cut the wire after asserting the deer had died, cutting its neck for good measure before binding its legs and letting it alone a moment. He sat on a nearby log and checked the sharpness of his hunting blade, running a stone across it a few times to sharpen it before sheathing it once more. He scratched Amora’s shoulder as she came to rest beside him, reaching into his bag for his almost-empty water bottle – he took a swig before pouring some into his hand for the female beside him; which she eagerly lapped with her broad tongue. He wiped his hand on his trousers before standing and tossing the deer over his shoulder, letting it hang down his back as he gripped the loop of thread he’d tied around the back legs. He scolded Amora a couple of times in a gruff, masculine Spanish accent to keep her away from it and she obeyed; returning to trotting about the huge man.

He was lucky in a way the prey hadn’t been got to by the biters first, and that it was still suitable for eating; he just wished it’d been smaller prey he’d obtained, this deer would be good for a fair group – but he was on his own, except for the dog, and he couldn’t keep it for it’d spoil and smell; something not good when you live in a world of predators trying to eat your own flesh, he’d already found out they preferred the taste of fresh meat over the dead when he’d tried to pacify some with an offering of his prey to escape. It was a hard life, learning how to deal with all this – learning all the rules through trial and error. You get bit, game over. You get scratched, game over. Lil’ bit of blood on you? You’re good. He’d also had to learn about how the rules had changed – something hard for him to comprehend as a police officer – there weren’t any rules anymore, no social hierarchy and most definitely no one to protect and serve anymore. That had been the hardest part for Faustino; finding that everything he’d spend the past couple of years believing in and justifying was all gone.

They finally came to where he was calling home; hunkered in an abandoned barn. He pushed the great red door closed, not caring if anything was inside – he was perfectly sure he could take care of that, and hopefully without killing anyone. He let his prey slump to the floor, and he once more scolded Amora for trying to eat it; he was just as hungry as her, if not moreso. He settled on one of the old saddle-racks, using it as a seat, he threw together some of the old straw and wood into the centre – away from the rest of the stalls. He wouldn’t be staying here long, he needed to find the little blonde that had dragged him here in the first place – his goals were at the moment to prepare the deer for cooking, start a fire whilst it was still light and cook enough to get him through the next couple of days. He was intending on leaving in the morning, he couldn’t stay here – his activity in the area would be obvious to any human that came through, and the sounds of him would surely draw the attention of walkers.

He took his blade and began to skin the deer – knowing the fur could come in handy when the nights drew in. He hung it up to dry; making a mental note to wash it when he next ventured outside to the well. He then began to prepare bits for cooking – placing them out on a blanket after ushering Amora into one of the vacant stalls. He waited a little while before starting a fire with his last match from the box he’d found in the office of the barn, once it was burning he began to cook the meats; some in the flames and others in the embers. The smell might attract people or walkers, but at this point he didn’t care; his revolver was on hand, and he had plenty of ammunition, not to mention the walls of the barn on all sides – the only threat was the barn door which he hadn’t yet barricaded with the great slab of wood just yet. Was he hoping for company? Maybe.

"talks like this"

word count || 956
ooc note || i apologise for the actions of faust in regards to the deer, i tried to keep details to a minimum, also there are plots for faust in play - so please pm me if you'd like to interact with him

|| Faustino Kanze || 30 || Rural Area || Adrian Reagan ||

The huge, bear-like man tossed some of the raw meat to the canine – bits he himself wouldn’t eat, like the organs and poorer quality cuts; tossing her a bone or two to keep her quiet and occupied as the afternoon wore on. He was still hunkered down on the saddle rack, waiting for the meat to cook. He scrubbed his face with a hand; running it though his knotted brunette hair – pulling it into a bun and huffing. He jolted and grabbed his revolver at the sharp rapping on the door – once, twice, thrice. His head hammered as he drew it and advanced towards the door after releasing Adora from the stall; her fur raised and her lips pulled back in a growl. Walkers didn’t knock; they would scratch and shove, but never knock. He advanced on the door, opening it and swinging it open – pointing the magnum at the man standing there as he held Adora back with his left hand. He looked down at the smaller man – dark gold eyes narrowing as he tried to survey the threat. He backed away from the door as it swung inwards, beckoning his head as a silent invitation for the man to enter – reassured by the presence of a military uniform, he chose to trust this man; whether that was a smart move or not was yet to be determined.

Once the man entered he shut the door and barricaded it – securing them inside, he returned Amora to the stall she had been in before, settling back on his seat; hearing it creak under his weight. He didn’t pay too much mind to Adrian now he was inside, he’d learned from his time on the ranch that it was best to let the animals and wild things come to him once they’d figured out he wasn’t a danger, and Adrian possessed a rifle – something he wouldn’t overly like to be on the wrong end of. He removed the cooked meat from the fire, sticking each piece through with a stick he had spent time sharpening. He gestured to the meat, tossing another stick at Adrian so he could pick which bits he wanted. “Please, help yourself.” He spoke in his deep Spanish accent before biting into a hunk of the venison, trying to keep somewhat polite but failing – this was the first meal he’d had in at least three days.

He wondered what his sister would be eating – and prayed she recalled how to set up all of the snares he’d shown her in her younger years, he hoped she’d be able to feed herself and keep herself alive just long enough for him to find her and save her from all this madness. He glanced over at the stranger as he chewed on the slab of meat, finding it to be the best meal he’d had since the world had gone to hell, he swept his gaze up and down the man in his soldier attire. Once he swallowed he wiped his mouth on a rag and spoke. “The name is Faustino – I used to be police officer in the city.” He introduced himself, his English fluent and clear enough – although laced with the spicy Spanish accent. The hulk of a man took another bite of the meat – hoping the stranger would see him not to be a threat; particularly as he had offered him food. In the background he could hear the crackling of the fire and the snapping of bones as Amora devoured what she’d been given, if the stranger looked over Faust was quick to reassure him. “She won’t hurt you, she just doesn’t like strangers.”

"talks like this"

word count || 609
ooc note || god bear-man is so fun to play, and already i adore Adrian x] yay for plots!