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Server time (UTC): 2023-01-31 07:18

Jason Davidson
Character information
  1. Alias
  2. Mental
  3. Morale
  4. Date of birth
    1993-04-12 (29 years old)
  5. Place of birth
    Nottingham England
  6. Nationality
  7. Ethnicity
  8. Languages
  9. Relationship
  10. Family
  11. Religion


  1. Height
    180 cm
  2. Weight
    32 kg
  3. Build
  4. Hair
  5. Eyes
  6. Alignment
    Lawful Good
  7. Features
    mole on my left cheek
  8. Equipment
    Shotgun, farm clothes, pistol, occasionally a rifle for hunting/zombie slaying
  9. Occupation
  10. Affiliation
  11. Role


 I came to chernarus as a journalist to write about the outbreak in 2018, but when everything started getting too much and transport to the outside world fell apart i tried to flee and got stranded in nyheim, where i decided to live off the land and try to provide for my fellow survivors, having lost all contact with familiarity, in an unknown land, surrounded by strangers and the living dead, i focus most of my time on farming and hunting, my little shack provides me with the warmth and security i need throughout the cold nights, but i often have terrors at night time, the shrieking cries of the undead keep me awake and remind me of the long and stressful journey i undertook to flee to safety, i often find myself sat up long into the night, by my warm campfire trying to burn the images of the dead and dying out of my brain, but to no avail, because once i manage to finally drift away into unconsciousness, i find myself in the same predicament the next night.


daytimes usually keep me busy, i often travel in search for food, stockpile clothes and medicinal things that i can either offer in trade or charity to those who stumble across my little slice of solace, but it doesnt fill the hole i have inside, the thoughts of what happened to my family, if they survived back home, if the infection reached them and if not, why haven't they come to my aid? these thought constantly swirl around my brain, filling my thoughts bitter, driving me to drink, which is one part of my personality i wont show people, alcoholism brings on feelings of pity and vulnerability, i want neither of those, those views put me at risk and im already alone enough out here as it is, unwanted violent company is not something i wish to fall upon my doorstep, no... im content with my interactions with passers by, and the safety they feel knowing they can always fall back to me if needs be, i want to be known as a positive staple in this godless earth, someone who can mediate disruptions and help those in peril... something i wish i had long ago before all this... maybe if i had i wouldnt have escaped my life back home, my dark inner feelings, my guilt and my fear... maybe i would have been talked down... but hey i never was good at listening... just rambling to block the noise... the thoughts out, rambling... is all i am now, wait no... not rambling, positivity and safety, that was it... i do miss my home though, my bed, my routine, my way of doing things, there is nothing like a good routine to keep your mind distracted, nothing like a good conversation to keep the fears at bay, repetition, routine, rambling, no not rambling... ranting, venting ugh well, best make the most of this new day huh who knows whats in store


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