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Flame to Ash - The Story of Hayden McDonald

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Hey there, I thought seeing as I had some spare time I'd try and flesh out my main character a bit more. Obviously I'm completely open to any criticisms and suggestions, I don't think I'm very good at writing but I feel like to solidify myself in an RP community, I need to make my character at least seem somewhat human, volatile and afraid. What I'm going to /attempt/ to do in these few short chapters is truly humanize a character that shouldn't function as he does, and I'm going to try and portray this character as someone who changes, who adapts and who survives based on the difficult, demoralizing choices he's made. I hope this suffices to do that and I really hope you get some kind of enjoyment out of this. Thank you.


Chapter 1 - Before

The alarm on his watch beeps in a high pitched tone that he waits for. The lingering hours at the office leave him feeling exhausted, and he waits for those repetitive and distinctive beeps, a sound he has identified going home with. He rises from his desk in a slump, his shirt wrinkled and creased. His trousers almost breaking at the seams. His shoes, dirtied and worn. Despite this, he emits an exacerbated sigh and moves for the exit at a pace only describable as rapid.

He's a poor man, he lives in a country that isn't his own for a wage that isn't desirable. He feels wasted, cheated and abused by a place he fought for, he feels utmost anger and frustration at a land for which he risked his life for so long. His flat is nothing but a disgruntled, dampened mess of wallpaper and torn-up carpet. He lives in a country that he's supposed to thank and love, but instead despises and hates. "This is no life for a soldier..." he thinks to himself, but it's the life he chose. The life he placed himself into. Some may argue that it's even the life he deserves and some others may even have the audacity and closed-mindedness to agree.

Hayden McDonald is his name. An Australian man who served in not only his own country's army, but Britain's army too. He's not a soldier anymore, although it's never truly left him. His eyes yearn for the sight of a weapon's optic, his hands long for the feel of a rifle. His body lusts after the feeling of pride and purpose that the uniform brought him. But again, he's not a soldier anymore. He's an office clerk in Liverpool, working for the Ministry of Defence.

Day in, day out, he comes home to the same flat in the same neighbourhood with the same neighbours and the same Coke Cans and Chocolate Wrappers that slide along the walkway like a boot on ice. He doesn't do much. He watches a bit of the football, he'll have himself a slice or two of toast and go to bed to begin the same thing the next day. But one thing's different, it clicks in his head, he reaches an epiphany, the cliché eureka moment that should've hit him long ago. He decided his submissiveness and willingness to live a life he doesn't want is no longer a viable option for him. There is places he wants to go, sights he wants to see, people he wants to meet... but life isn't a fairy tale. You can't have an idea pop up in your head and have it happen. It doesn't work like that. He thought it did however, and nothing was going to stop him. A month's work should be enough he thought, and that was the compromise. One more month in this horror show of a country and he would leave. Not forever, he couldn't, he wouldn't. His family are here, his friends are here and no matter how hard he tried to run away, his life is here. So he works, and he works, he keeps on keeping on until he finally raises the funds to leave. He packs his bags and he goes. But where? He starts in Northern Russia, in the coldest regions, a country he doesn't know, a language he doesn't speak, but the freedom to go wherever he wants and not have the restrictive strings of life pull him back. He works his way down the country, hitchhiking, staying where he can, eating where he can, it's barebones but it's what he wanted. Hell, he almost felt like a soldier again. Long walks with his tent and his pack on his back, stopping only to drink and get his bearings. Traversing mountains, rivers, forests and large open plains, he eventually comes to the southern border, and just over yonder is the country of Chernarus. He proceeds, I mean, what is there to lose? Everything he has and everything he is over there is strapped to him, so he presses on through the snow, rain, wind and sun. He is essentially stonewalled by the vast Black Mountains but he doesn't let that halt him in his path. After an arduous journey across the mountains, he arrives in what is known as South Zagoria, a quaint, post-Soviet portion of Chernarus that hardly sports a booming populace, but is populated nonetheless. He entered, unknown to him that this would be the last place he'd explore for a long time.

-To be continued-


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