- Birthplace: Somewhere in Montana
- Sexuality: Heterosexual
- Residence: No-Man's Lands
- Romantic Status: Single
- Height: 5'6"
- Body Type: Toned.
- Eye Color: Brown.
- Hair Color: Brown.
- Other Notable Features: Scars - they're so hot right now. Most notably one on her face just beneath her right eye.
- Ailments: None.
- MBTI: ESFP | The Entertainer
- Vices: Cracking jokes, being the wiseguy, making others laugh.
- Moral Alignment: True Neutral
- Accent: slight Latino-American
- Language: English with a little Hispanic thrown in
- Hobbies: Sleeping, scavenging, shooting the shit, cooking
- Bores: Guard 'doody', boredom, routine
- Primary Weapon: Small pistol when she has ammo, otherwise a bowie knife she keeps REAL sharp
- Special Item(s): -
(CW: mention of murder, death)
The Outside is all she's ever known. Her parents (and theirs, and theirs, and theirs, and... well, you get the fuckin' picture) had always had weird views on the government. The family considered themselves lucky when doomsday finally hit and they had a literal fuckton of food and supplies stashed away in their underground bunkers. Yeah. Those kinda weird views on the government. They called themselves homesteaders but they were actually distrustful of their leaders and the bureaucratic bullshit. They let heavily-vetted new blood in because they weren't about to become your run-of-the-mill cousin-humpers. Too smart for that, y'see. Last thing they needed when shit started going down was DNA that wound back on itself. Had to think of the future.
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They spent a lot of time training down in the bunker. Firearms, hand-to-hand combat, that sort of thing. She was lucky enough to get outside on some scavenging trips, as well. Saw a little bit of the world as it changed. It was nice. 'Course, she had no idea what it'd looked like in the before, but the after was a fuckin' mess. Only thing the Outside had going for it was fresh fuckin' air, because that recycled shit started tasting like ozone after a while.
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Avalynn was twenty when shit went downhill. Funny how being around the same people day in and day out could fuck with some people. It started with her sister's husband. He started losing his marbles, ended up killing more than half of the people who called the bunkers home. Avalynn was able to get loose, break free - and she didn't let the door hit her on the way out. Smart girl had a go-bag loaded up and ready to rock n' roll when her brother-in-law had started spouting wack-ass shit. Guns, ammo, food, clean water. She ran. Didn't look back.
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Two years later she was drifting along with a little group of misfits that got picked off by the Infected.
Year after that the same thing happened to a different little pack of folks.
Two years after that, yep - you guessed it. History repeats itself. Never fails.
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She's been with the Outcasts for about five years now, and so far things are going well. She's always on edge even when she tries not to be - and she's gotten pretty good at faking that calm, cool and collected vibe. Not everyone can have the luxury of freaking the fuck out when things go sideways, and Avalynn would rather be rational instead of an emotional mess.
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So far, so good. It's not such a bad life when this shitstorm is all you've ever known.
