#remnantscivilian

[remnantsrp]

Name: Mercedes Orero a.k.a. “Lacey Luv” Age: 27 years old Pronouns: She/Her Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada Occupation before the Infection: Stripper at Sapphire Lounge in Las Vegas, Nevada Role within the Caravan: Civilian FC: Karrueche Tran

Biography:

tw: sexwork, harassment, (possible implied assault, but that's not the direction I intend for Mercedes' story. It didn't actually happen, more like she opened her eyes to the real world.)

Before the infection.

Mercedes Orero had a painfully average upbringing. Two hardworking and devoted parents, an older athletic brother, and a big shaggy mutt of a dog helped the young Mercedes make her way through her formative years. The girl loved playing princess, wearing her mom's heels, and bossing around her father and brother. Few could have expected the path that Sadie, as she was affectionately called, would eventually strut down.

It wasn't until her mid teens that she realized the power she had. When she was out with her friends, men would stop and stare or call out to her. Her friends always shifted uncomfortably, but Mercedes found herself liking the attention. She talked back, egging the men on until they backed down, unexpecting her strength and boldness. Her mother warned her about the dangers of those men, but Mercedes didn't understand why. They seemed so…pathetic when they promised her the moon or begged for a smile.

Alas, her innocent ways could not last forever, and like so many women, Mercedes began to understand how frightening these men could be. She took self defense courses, carried her keys between her fingers, and had pepper spray on stand by. And so her life continued, if a bit aimlessly. She had no direction and no ambition for what she wanted to be when she "grew up." All she knew was that she didn't want to be bored or boring. At 19, a chance meeting with a girl at the bar welcomed her into the world of stripping and the excitement she craved.

It was in this sex work that Mercedes found her strength again. She loved fine things and feeling beautiful, while making her clients reduced to simpering fools who wasted their money. She'd give them their smiles, show off her goods, and laugh at them in the back of her mind. She became the momma bear of all the girls, mending costumes, consoling them through break ups, and threatening the assholes who got too close. The bouncers joked that she was going to put them out of a job one day.

Even her parents were supportive, despite their discomfort of hearing how their little girl earned her money. She danced her way to fame, dating celebrities here and there and booking gigs in high class clubs as a freelancer. Her apartment on the strip was loaded with name brands and finery. Mercedes, going by the stage name Lacey Luv, was on the top and it felt like nothing was going to knock her down on her perfect ass.

The Outbreak.

Sleeping during the day and working all night left little time for Mercedes to keep up on current events. So when the outbreak hit, she was completely unprepared. She had been at the club, working naturally, when one of the clients got rowdy. This happened at least once a week, typically, but lately there had been so few clients. A flu or something was going around one of the other girls had said. Lacey Luv rolled her eyes and continued her routine, flashing her veneers and flipping her hair, until one of the girls screamed. The music cut and the lights turned on to reveal a horrifying scene. 

All hell had broken loose. Mercedes could simply stare as bodies covered in gore fell around the stage. All around were clients and coworkers screaming and wrestling with people. No, they weren't people any more. She staggered back as one of the...things caught sight of her and growled. It fucking growled at her! She looked around for protection or a weapon of fucking something! Big John, the bouncer was by the door with his throat ripped out. Her hand flew to her mouth and she fell back, numb. The thing was on the stage now and it stalked toward her.

In a blink it was on her, gnashing bloodied teeth. Out of options, Mercedes reached down and tore off her stiletto before jamming that thing in the eye. Blood squirted over her and she vomited, showing the dead thing to the floor. Tearing off the other heel, she ran upstairs, the only survivor in the place, and changed into streetwear. 

Mascara streaked tears rained down her face as she crept into the manager's office. There was a pistol there and some ammo for emergencies. Club administration could never be too careful. Snatching that and stuffing it into the backpack she found in the dressing room, Mercedes fought her way out of the club and onto the street where a new hell awaited.

Finding the Caravan.

Mercedes was a survivor. She fought to make it through the end of the world, unsure if her parents and brother survived. Her cellphone, useless and silent, told her all she needed to know about the state of the world, and she mourned for everyone she knew. They were gone. They had to be. It was easier to think that they were free from the agony of living and fighting each day.

She found the caravan by accident, stumbling across some scouts one day and joining them. She was unsure of them and how much they could be trusted, and so she introduced herself as Lacey. It felt good to be called Lacey, like Mercedes never existed and with her all the pain of losing her loved ones disappeared. She fell into caravan life, using her sewing skills to repair clothing and make bandages from scraps. It wasn't the glamour she was used to, and the adjustment was hard, but each day more and more of Mercedes died and took with her, the desire for Gucci and spa days.

positive personality traits: resilient, fierce, creative, decisive

negative personality traits: stubborn, haughty, superficial, abrasive

played by Brooke, She/Her

[remnantsrp]

Name: Aroha Henare Age: 26 years old Pronouns: She/Her Hometown: Kaikōura, New Zealand Occupation before the Infection: Photographer Role within the Caravan: Civilian FC: Keisha Castle-Hughes

Biography:

tw. short description of gore involving a zombie’s leg

Before the infection.

Aroha was always wandering. Up and down well-worn tracks, tramping into the forest for the night, taking the first bus into the big cities, anywhere that wasn’t home. Her parents didn’t mind, so long as she had her phone handy, and they were always delighted with the pictures she took of the nature of New Zealand. But as she grew up she found herself finding it harder and harder to make her trips. The whole family told themselves that it was just stress, that school exams had worn her down, but it kept getting worse. Pain began to spread.

Nevertheless, she persisted.

After high school she took a freelance job in Wellington, photographing important buildings for a historical society, which made her some decent money, but took her far from her close-knit family and little town. She thought the fuzz in her head, her weak knees, her memory problems, were anxiety, homesickness, and she ignored it. Everything seemed okay when she woke that morning in 2015, but as she got out of bed, she collapsed to the ground, her legs numb.

When the news came that her brain and spine had scarring, that her own immune system was attacking her, she felt her world crumble. Before, she was a photographer, a hiker, a baker, anything she wanted, now her world felt confined to the words “Multiple Sclerosis”.

Aroha took a few years to recover what she could. Reset her mind and remember she was all she could do, she wasn’t defined by what she couldn’t. She regained her love for cooking, sewing, and even took some trips with friends to photograph popular tourist locations. Eventually she managed to walk a few meters, then she could manage an hour or so with her cane, then, she felt strong enough to take an advertising job in the United States. Her family didn’t entirely agree, worried she’d relapse in a foreign country with no one to help, but she was determined to get her life back on track. She loved her family, but not travelling felt like being caged.

The Outbreak.

Her job sent her to Nevada to photograph the wonders of nature for a water company. They were even kind enough to afford her a pretty nice hybrid Toyota to rent while she was there.

She was driving when the alert came through the radio. She didn’t believe it at first, assuming it was a prank or something like “The War of the Worlds”, yet as it broadcast longer, her doubts began to spread thin. 

Taking her eyes off the road for just a moment while her phone lit up with her mother’s call, she crashed hard into something that walked out into the middle of the road. A person. She slowed to a stop not far ahead, shaking with the realisation that she may have killed someone, however as she looked into her rearview mirror to see the person stand despite their leg being nearly severed off, she realised it really wasn’t a prank. She released the handbrake and continued on, never looking back.

Finding the Caravan.

It was a while later that she managed to come across a group of survivors. At first she didn’t want anything to do with them, worried for her safety after an encounter with a group of crowbar-wielding young adults who looked a little too fondly at her car, but she caught their attention clattering around a nearly-empty pharmacy as she threw as many boxes of fingolimod into her backpack as she could.

After a tense conversation with the caravan members at the receiving end of her taser, they convinced her they were more interested in the safety of people than her car, and Aroha accepted their offer to join their group doing small tasks that allowed her to sit like mending clothing, cooking, and sharing stories of her homeland and her family.

She wished for home, hoping her little island and her family was okay through all this, but living through hell made it clear that wishes did nothing, and miracles weren’t coming.

In the beginning she made a hundred calls a day to her family, now she can barely look at her phone without a sinking feeling in her stomach.

positive personality traits: agreeable, brave, artistic, unfaltering

negative personality traits: withdrawn, anxious, naïve, irritable

played by Lou, They/Them or She/Her