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  • Name: Laura "Lark" Kenzington
  • Age: 28
  • D.o.B: January 15th 1988
  • Blood: A+
  • Sex: F
  • Relationshit:¬†They're all dead
  • Job: (ex) Cop, (Ex) U.S. Military
  • Skills: BMQT; MOS 11B (Rifle Infantryman), (ASI-F7; Pathfinder) (LIC Arab: Iraqi, Afghani dialects), Fairbairn-Sykes, MOUT; Intelligent, fast, perceptive, Urban Survival Training, Basic Field Medicine

Red-headed and full of fire, L.A.R.K (Laura A. R. Kenzington) is a 28-year-old southern bell with a loud mouth and even louder temper. Intelligent and driven to distraction by things seen and done, she's had a 'colorful' life. By age 18 she had already escaped one abusive hell and, unwittingly, launched herself into another by entering in to service in the U.S. military. After almost a decade of service, she eventually parted ways with the army in order to find a way to be more effective, without the 'extras'.

This led her back to the city in which she was born, where she sought out a job as a police officer and struggled for a time in adjusting to the slow pace of civilian life. Under-appreciated and underestimated constantly, she found herself wasted as a desk-jockey, answering phones behind the safety glass of the local PD, right up until the world suddenly realigned itself into a shape she could understand all too well.

When the Outbreak hit, and the world as everyone knew it fell to pieces, she was sitting there behind that glass high as a kite. The local police force in the town were corrupt as hell, so it was really no surprise that they took off to fend for themselves (for the most part) when it became clear people were eating each other. All the better for them; the cons in the holding cells below were some of the first to turn, and it just so happened that, somehow, those cell doors happened to be opened at just the wrong time. Lark's first introduction to the walking dead was to have them lurching up from behind her secured window... Luckily, being in the local PD headquarters had it's perks; there were guns literally everywhere.

It was her instincts and training that saved her, and perhaps the guiding hand of a god or two, as she fled the town on that first night. Through the next two years, she'd spend her days avoiding people as much as possible, hunting and surviving as best she could. The road was long, dirty, and filled with horrors - but she would never say she regretted it. After all, she'd done what she had to in order to survive - and to keep those few she helped alive as long as she could.

No man is an island in himself, however, and eventually the scarcity of supplies and medicines - and a sheer need for human contact - would call Lark back towards civilization, and the growing trading hub of Arklay on its lonely island.

  • This topic was modified 3 years, 11 months ago by Profile photo of L.A.R.K. L.A.R.K..

"Maybe you ought to go back home and crawl under your bed.
It's not safe out here.
It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross,
but it's not for the timid."

April 9, 2017 at 10:47 pm
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