Post by Jude Walsh on Oct 16, 2015 23:15:12 GMT
Jude Grayson Walsh
FACE CLAIM: Amber Heard
---------------------------------
AGE: 26
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Demisexual
GROUP: The Ceres
POSITION: Farm ownerLOOK INTO THE MIRROR...
what do you see?
HEIGHT: 5'8"
HAIR COLOR: Dirty blonde
EYE COLOR: Blue
MISC: Pablo Neruda quote: “te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma” across her left ribcage that translates to: “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”LISTEN TO YOUR VOICE...
what does it say?
PERSONALITY: Jude used to be the life of the party, always engaging though sometimes a little flaky when it comes to commitment. She used to be spirited, so full of life and loved everyone around her and was never without a smile on her face.
That all changed drastically after she arrived home from that fateful trip. She became withdrawn, kept things close to her vest, took to drinking too much and became fiercely guarded. Sarcasm became her number one defense mechanism and she rarely made friends as she threw herself into the farm her family unwittingly left her to deal with.
Though she could still be seen feeding orphans or strays and the like off her own farm, it rarely came without a price. She had become a little shrewd with the people who do pay her for her produce and it rarely grew into a more personal relationship. She keeps things absolutely professional and business-like, which earned her a rather notorious reputation.
SECRET(S): She kept her infected family in the basement of her farm before she was forced to kill them and bury them far in the wasteland.WE ALL HAVE A STORY...
what's yours?
WORTHY MENTIONS: = Cole - Jude's main horse
= DB - Jude's herding dog
HISTORY: Growing up on a farm taught Jude Walsh a few things about survival. The Scorch practically wiped out her entire farm but her grandparents and then her parents were resilient and had managed to build it back up and build an entire enterprise out of it. They became the few leading producers for the town the lived in and her elder brother Chuck was set to take over their mom and dad as and when they decided to retire. Being the middle child of the family, Jude had to live up to the expectation of being the brains of the operation. The one who could assist Chuck with the background work. Her parents' legacy was something she did not mind preserving, even if Chuck was the one who got the credit. So she went to school, she got her college degree and she started helping out with the books.
Things were normal. Jude was happy.
Jude was out of town when her family was infected. Her parents had insisted she go on a trip with a few of her friends from school and when she got home, it wasn't much of the home she remembered. The moment she stepped out of her car, the chill she felt despite the heatwave that hit her was enough to cause her panic. The farm was too quiet. Save for the animals grazing on what little grass they managed to find on the ground, Jude didn't feel that there was life in the house.
The first attack came from her thirteen year old baby sister, Lucy, when she stepped into the house. She barely made it to her old room and even with the door locked, the scratching and screaming and bangs that looked like it could tear the door off it's hinges, Jude felt unsafe. Jude knew that the thing scratching at the door was no longer her sister. What's worst, by nightfall, it wasn't just her sister scratching at the door. She could hear her mother, her father and her older brother threatening to slam the door down. She had to leave, and so she did. Out the window and straight to her car to get to the town square.
It felt surreal as she packed her duffel bag with weapons and supplies she wouldn't have thought to pick up before that day and she spent hours in her car in a secluded area crying and trying to reason with herself that she couldn't do it. She couldn't kill her family.
She drove home, her eyes swollen and sobs still erupting every so often, with quick glances down to the open duffel bag in the passenger's seat as she realised what she had to do. Her grandfather had built a bomb shelter because of the Scorch. Pure iron walls, with shelves stocked to the brim with everything they needed if they were stuck there for months. The door itself was a thing of beauty. Jude never understood why back then that the door was locked from the outside as well as on the inside.
All she had to do was lock her family in there until she could find the cure. She had to find the cure. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she was spared the infection and her family was left to rot. The plan to trap her family in there was crude. The tranquiliser gun she had on her, she didn't even know if it would be effective on a stage three Doomed but it was the only plan she had.
Luring her family down there was pretty easy. They came at her like four very rabid dogs, their maws gnashing at her as they foamed in the mouths, running down the stairs to the basement and one by one she shot with the tranquiliser gun and they all rolled down the stairs in a heap at the foot. Jude was still crying as she went about tying them all up to the four points of the room, away from each other. They twitched every now and then and by the time she had tied Chuck up, the first one she had shot stirred against their restraint. She had to make quick work and when she closed the door on her family, Jude was sobbing, her heart was aching and throbbing in her throat as she heard the faint growling from behind the six inch thick titanium alloy door.
She tried to go about her daily business. Business with the local people seemed to continue as usual. Nobody really questioned her family member's whereabouts. Some had sympathetic looks but mostly they kept their mouths shut. Every other day someone died or went missing or a loved one would end up as the Doomed. Soon enough, they stopped the sympathetic looks and went about with business.
A few more months passed since she had trapped her family and she had yet to find the cure. She grew jaded and cynical as to it's existence even and eventually, she had to face the inevitable. She had to kill them before they killed her.
And so she did. One by one, they dropped on to the floor the moment she opened the door, black goop streaming out of the back of their heads. The smell they had accrued was pungent and it took her a moment to vomit out her dinner before she bagged them. There wasn't much to bag by the time she assessed the situation. Their flesh had peeled off and they had lost so much of themselves, had she taken her time with shooting them, she would have realised they were practically already dead.
She didn't waste any time packing them up into the boot of her car to drive as far away as she could from the farm to bury her family. Fear ripped through her as she picked out spots to dig graves for her four family members. She got so scared that she only ended up with one big grave and dumped everyone inside.
Jude hightailed out of the place and when she got home, a fresh batch of tears escaped from her as she realised she had to clean up the mess she had essentially made in the bomb shelter.
She couldn't bear to clean up the rest of the house, to box up her family's things but she knew she had to. She needed to get rid of everything, she couldn't hold on to any of it because they weren't coming back. And in her cleaning up, she found a few documents in her father's study that named her as the owner of the business and the house. A letter was slipped into the document folder telling her that they had known they were infected. The whole family knew. They had prepared contingencies and she was one of them. Her dad had even told her to lock them up in the bomb shelter or kill them immediately if they were too far gone.
Jude cried herself to sleep on her father's desk but the next day found her with a determination to push on. Three years has gone by since that fateful day and today, she's thriving in her field. Sure she has less connections with people but she knows she has success. For right now, in this screwed up world, it was all she needed.BEHIND THE MASK...
who are you really?
SAMPLE: *pees in a container* dis good?
USERNAME: Nunubeah
AGE GROUP: Hi I'm Muriel I'm four and a half years old. Who're YOU ^-^ mrrrrr late twenties
EXPERIENCE: Far too long
WHERE DID YOU FIND US?Mel's Apple Bottom Jeans
