Name: Brandon Jay Matthews
Age: Twenty-seven
Weight: 84 kg
Height: 187 cm
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black
Pack: Lighter, cigarettes, 9mm, handgun ammo, and a foot long hunting knife.
Traits: Detached, Impetuous, Lackadaisical, Protective
Bio: Brandon through he had seen it all. Working in law enforcement, he had been around all sorts of things that made prepared him for such a day, but he didn't think he would lose it like he did.
The day it happened was like any other day. He went to work, said hello to his co-workers, go back in his car, and went on his rounds. Then he felt something. A large wave, a boom that made no sound, but had a large effect on the environment. Every electronic device around him just shut off. Cars stopped in the middle of the road and people went into a fit of rage. At first, people though it was something minor, but as the days went by and the time without technology became longer, many people became restless, taking their anger to the streets. Wars raged, the government fell, and humanity had lost everything. Brandon's family was only one of the many families that fell apart. 'Taking care of each other was becoming a chore,' his father said. 'Why do I have to care about what happens to you,' he said. Brandon was tired of hearing his father voice. His complaining and whining, but it didn't last long. His father tired to kill him one day, but Brandon wouldn't give up. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He shot his father, pointed the gun right in his face and pulled the trigger. No matter how much he cleaned himself, he could still feel his blood all over his body.
After that, he became independent, living for himself and only him. He lost all humanity in himself and became a savage, killing the innocent and those who stood in his way of survival. He did it, not caring for consequences, but part of him felt a cringe in his stomach every time he pulled the trigger on another person. The small shred of humanity left in him, stopped him from taking the time of a helpless mother and he child. He held them at gun point, as she pleaded for her and her son's life. He couldn't doubt the fact that, that could have been him, in his mother arms. He pulled away and ran off. He wanted to take his own life, but failed. He could never bring himself to go through with it, and that was how he found them. A group of survivors, people who held onto their humanity with every fiber of their being. They didn't hurt others or take lives to live. They did it civilly, which confused Brandon. It was the end of the world and these people still strive to make it better with what they had. They offered Brandon somewhere same. Somewhere to call home. The notion was nice and all, but it wasn't protection he needed, but retribution. He knew that how he had been living wasn't right, and he wanted to repent for the things he had done, the lives he had taken.
He joined the group and soon after met the leader's son. Brandon never took notice of him at first, but as time passed by, something about the boy struck him as odd. For a while now, he had been getting along with him, and the consistent flirting was becoming a normality for the two. Brandon never did this, and now he questions himself. Here comes this complete stranger and they become okay friends, and then casual flirting and whatnot, and suddenly Brandon can't tell if he likes the guy or not. He can;t even tell if he's straight anymore. As if he need more problems in his life.