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Server time (UTC): 2022-12-01 21:17

June St Valentine
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
    No second chances.
  3. Morale
    Content in the nomad lifestyle.
  4. Date of birth
    1995-06-07 (27 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Seattle, WA
  6. Nationality
    North American
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
  9. Relationship
    River Griswold (girlfriend, status unknown)
  10. Family
    George St. Valentine (father, dead), Linda St. Valentine (mother, unknown)
  11. Religion
    Nonpracticing Christian


  1. Height
    175 cm
  2. Weight
    58 kg
  3. Build
    Slim, muscular
  4. Hair
    Brown, short, practical
  5. Eyes
    Hazel colored.
  6. Alignment
    Chaotic Good
  7. Features
    June keeps her hair as short as she can. Her knuckles are always red from hitting something. Her eyes are always red from hitting a joint. Shamefully, her MC cut was tarnished at sea, but she managed to keep her NOMAD patch intact.
  8. Equipment
    St. Valentine carries a suppressed handgun and a scoped Mosin 91/30 she found in Nyvoll. Up close and personal, she splits heads with a splitting axe.
  9. Occupation
  10. Affiliation
    Bears MC (Former)
  11. Role


June St. Valentine rode as an enforcer with the women-only Bears Motorcycle Club from Seattle, WA before the outbreak changed everything.

There were about three dozen members of the Seattle MC. Some were dealers, pushing cocaine on the streets. Others were recruiters, coaxing local smalltime riders to live out their fantasy in a real club. June St. Valentine was an enforcer, making sure the MC was respected and the rules were kept sacred. Debra Galahad, the MC president, wanted expansion for the club. Over a few beers at the local clubhouse, she would lay out plans to open chapters in states across the country. June thought this was greedy, but her concerns were shot down. After a few days of deliberation, Deb sent ten recruiters and 10 enforcers on a cross-country ride to expand the MC. One of the enforcers chosen was June, maybe as an ironic jab due to her dissent. She agreed.

They would ride along the southern border of the United States until they reach the East Coast, then ride back through the northern states, hopefully with some new sisters on the return. New sisters meant new opportunities, but less roles to fill. It's that which suddenly made June decide to have a chat with the president. 

"Twenty-two years," Debra said, mixing herself a drink, "Twenty-two years in the MC and I never rode nomad. You figure six is enough for you, huh?"

June rolled her eyes. "I'm not leaving the goddamn MC, Debra. It's just..."

Debra laughed. "I know, I know. It's just that old lady of yours, isn't?" She saw June redden. "I was young and in love too once. Now the MC is my soulmate. But you've got your whole road ahead of you, so, I can say I support th--"

"Yeah, I get it, Deb. The world is my little oyster or some other crap." She punched the older biker in the arm. "Well, hey, thanks for your blessing. Not that I need it."

Debra reached under the bar. "What you need is smacked upside the head, but I'll give you this." She began to hand something to June but then swiped it back. "You wear this patch, but you're still a Bear, sister. You better honor it."

June shook her head and chuckled sarcastically. "Alright. I will, sister."

With that, Debra handed her a rocker patch which read nomad. 

The following morning, the twenty riders geared up and went east, and six weeks later twenty riders had already become twenty-three, with a few new sisters taking the rear and looking to wear the cut. They rode through Oregon, California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. June knew this would be her last ride as an active member of the MC. What she didn't know is that it would be the last ride for many of her sisters as well. The bikers didn't listen to the news. They had no idea what waited for them on the east coast.

When they reached Long Island, NY, they rode along the coast to check out the scene. The first thing they noticed were the ports. Families crowded around one dockyard and the large fishing boats, carrying belongings in suitcases and wrapped in sheets. They slowed their bikes to a stop. June asked Meg, a recruiter in the MC, what was going. "Your guess as good as mine," she said. People looked desperate, like they wanted to leave, like they wanted to get on the water. But why? One man shoved a fisherman and yelled at him, his family cowering behind him. Another man, seemingly the owner of a small yacht, threatened a group of families at gunpoint to stay away from his boat. June had to find out what the fuck was going on. She and the others stepped off their bikes and approached the crowd. One man was threatening a fisherman by knifepoint to let his family take their boat and leave. June grabbed the man by the arm and demanded to know what was happening, but seeing the group of bikers, the man dropped the knife and fled with his family. The fisherman thanked them. He was an old one, his wrinkled face covered by his yellow rainhat. His coveralls had blood on them. June introduced herself as a member of the Bears MC, and the old man invited them into the boat's cabin, locking the door behind them.

"Long way from home," he said, studying the Seattle patches on the bikers' vests. "Name's Red. I could use a strong few hands like you folks to keep these...refugees off my boat."

June and the other riders looked to each other, puzzled. "Refugees?" one said, a black-haired girl named Del.

Red looked at them. "That's what I'd say they are, wouldn't ya? Trying to leave the country, escape whatever the hell's going on. Can't trust 'em, though. Nope, they'd steal my boat and leave me on the mainland with the sick." The bikers only looked more confused than ever. "You really don't know what's goin' on out there do you? You've seen the sick people, right?"

Before June could answer, her cellphone rang. It was from Seattle, WA. "Where the fuck are you?" the voice on the other end said. It was Debra.

"Long Island." June looked around. "On a, uh, boat."

Debra was breathing like she had been running. "Liza is dead," she said.

June didn't say anything for a long moment. "She's..."

Debra was talking so fast. "It was the sickness they keep talking about, June, it is real. Liza got sick two weeks ago. She started to lose it, so we took her to the hospital and these guys in hazmat suits came and took her away. We just got a call that she passed away in treatment. We don't even know where the fuck she is, June. I mean, what the fuck is that? They took her out of the hospital bed and I think they killed her because she was sick, June. Oh my god. Is that crazy?"

"Fuck, you need to slow down. You said she was sick?" June said into the phone, looking back up at Red. "Like, how sick?"

"Oh no," Debra said, and hung up the phone.

June stood in silence for a moment. She looked at the bikers. "We need to go back to Seattle. Liza is dead."

As the bikers mourned and decided what to do next, Red wandered off only to return with a bottle of Jameson and a shot glass. "I'm sorry for the loss," he said, "but you can't go back." He went on to explain that the highways were being systemically shut down to discourage travel and spread of the sickness, and by the time they were halfway home, they would be barred from travel. He showed them the articles, the headlines, the videos, the pictures. What the sickness was doing. He told them that was why everyone was fighting to get on the boats. Even as they spoke, they could hear them outside, desperate. He told them his plan, how he stocked on nonperishable goods for years to come, how he was going to take his boat to Norway where his family was from, and see his homeland one last time before old age took him. But alas, he said, that his time had come upon him, and he was unlikely to survive the trek. That's why he invited the bikers aboard. That perhaps if they could handle the labors of travel, Red would see his homeland afterall, and in return he would allow the bikers the safety of the sea. The Bears refused, obviously. The idea was ridiculous.

Sure the roads were being closed, June reasoned, but the bikers were no strangers to weaving their motorcycles between roadblocks and slow-moving cars. June wanted to see her girlfriend River back home, and none of them had experience living on the open sea, so it seemed like a fool's errand. Red insisted, at least, that they stay the night inside the boat's sleeping quarters and decide what their next move was in the morning.

The next day, they left the boat to find their bikes and their equipment had all been stolen while they were in the boat. To June, losing her bike was akin to losing a sister. She tried to call Deb on the phone to let the club president know, but she hadn't been answering all morning. Red reminded them of his offer. He told them if they were going to change their minds and join him to Norway, they would need to decide by the next morning, but until then they were free to stay on the boat. Over the course of that day, the bikers argued, and argued, and argued, over where to go next. They still couldn't get ahold of anyone back home over the phone. Red continued to show them the progression of the state of the world on the news, watching the sickness spread. Every now and then the bikers would have to scare off a group of would-be ship-jackers, who were mostly just desperate families. By the end of the day, the Bears had made up their minds. Without their bikes, without knowing what was going on back home, they still couldn't leave their club and their families in Seattle, so they unanimously voted against stowing away with Red. But in the morning, Meg was missing. 

She wasn't in her bed, or in the cabin. The floor felt strange beneath June's feet and that's when it dawned on her to check outside. When she did, all she saw was open sea. Red had already departed. She called her sisters outside to see and the Bears went back onto the boat to confront Red when his voice came over the vessel's PA. "So you rednecks are as stupid as you look. If you don't want to leave with me, well, that's too bad. America is long behind us now. I can't man this ship myself, so suck it up or I will kill this girl Meg."

June looked at her sisters. "What the fuck is this?"

"We need to find him," Del said, just as the boat began to jolt underneath them. "Oh shit, we're moving faster now."

June caught her balance. "They have to be in the fuckin' control room!" 

The control room door was above the cabin, up a small flight of stairs. June knew Red would be on the other side, and likely Meg as well. She opened the door slowly.

"Not another fucking step!" Red had a handgun fixed on Meg's temple. Behind them, June could see the open water through the window. 

"What the fuck is the plan here, old man?" June said, easing into the room.

Red then trained his gun on June. "I said not another step!"

"Psh. You gonna take us out there, and, what? Make us run your boat? I mean, how stupid does that sound," June taunted.

"About as stupid as you biker bitches for getting on a stranger's boat. Now this is just how it has to be, alright? I did this so we could all survive. You don't want to be back there with the infected."

"Well, that isn't your fucking choice to make, Red," June said. 

Meg elbowed the man and pulled loose. He fired into the floor. June was on top of the man before he could center his aim again. She grabbed his gun. "If you kill me," he said, struggling against June's size and strength, "none of you know how to captain this ship. You'll die out here." 

June looked at Meg and then back at Red. "Get the fuck up," she said. She put the gun to his head. "Turn us around."

He shook his head. "You think I have anything to lose by dying? You're digging your own damn grave. So shoot me, and never see dry land again, I promise you."

June restrained the man. Over the next hour there was much debate over whether to outright kill him, torture him, or do something to force him to turn the ship around. Nothing the Bears agreed on. All they could decide was killing the man was most likely a death sentence for everyone aboard. June believed once they reached the Norwegian border, that border agents would turn the boat away by force simply because of travel lockdowns. So they stayed on the boat, but they kept three of them watching Red at all times.

That night, June stood outside the cabin. All she could see around them was the night sky and the stars reflected off the surface of the water, which rolled for miles in every direction. In that blackness, the boat seemed still. Her head swam. She looked up for one last glace at the moon before going back inside the cabin to sleep.

They had been sailing for sixteen days when a mist rolled in around the ship. Over the weeks, the bikers handled the labor of manning the medium-sized fishing vessel, and Red directed them. They calculated they were less than a day from the northern coast of Norway. By this time, Red reasoned travels bans would be strictly in place, so they would need to reach dry land discretely. He directed the bikers to lower the life raft and ferry themselves to shore a handful at a time. It would take days to get everyone on land this way, but it was better than being detained by border police. There were 24 of them on that ship, though the lifeboat was a little thing and only had room for 3 of them. The first to board the ship was Red, a woman named Pauline, and Del. Red told the others he would reach land within a few hours, drop off Pauline and Del, then turn back and get the others until everyone was accounted for. So, June watched them raft into the mist, seeming to disappear entirely. Hours went by. The mist around them got darker, so she knew the sun was setting. Red still hadn't come back for the remaining 21 bikers. Once the sun had set completely, the women decided Red wasn't coming back and they had to reach the shore themselves. One by one, they lowered themselves into the open water, even knowing it would be pitch black. They swam for over an hour and still couldn't see the shore ahead, but they had to be getting close. June noticed the way the water pulled was getting more forceful as the minutes went by, and soon the saw the stars disappear as clouds rolled in over their heads. That was when the rain started. Next was the wind, what started as a breeze began to thrash the women about in the water, threatening to drag them under the surface. All they could do not to drown was hold onto each other, and pray one of them still knew which way was the coast. But soon even that wasn't enough, and June felt Meg's grip slip as the current dragged her away. They didn't even hear her yell over the crashing of the water and the rain pounding on their heads. June looked to the others, faceless in the dark and the storm. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes the others were gone and she was now the one being swept away. She didn't even feel the others let go. A wave crashed over her and everything went black. When she awoke, she was soaked in water and caked in sand. Her vest was gone, all she had left of it was the nomad patch she had yet to sew on. She stood up and called out for her club, but she was so parched she couldn't get out a sound. Around her was a wilderness so vast she knew she was somewhere entirely foreign to her. But where?

1 Comment

  • Emerald


Sweet character page. Better than I can write, not that I am a high bar to write better than. 

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