Name| Osiris Zade
Nicknames| Oz // Ozzy
Age| 23
Gender| Male
Sexuality| Gay
Height| 5'10"
Weight| 160
Personality traits| pacifist, mellow, pure-hearted, humble, kind, caring, understanding, fiercely loyal, protective, honest, affectionate, possessive
Description blurb| For what he may lack in height Oz makes up for in build: broad shoulders, well muscled, and perfectly proportioned if not for his long neck and spindly legs. His hair is reddish brown, almost the color of rust, and his eyes can't seem to decide if they're brown or green. His Scottish heritage keeps his skin almost as pale as the walking corpses littering the streets, and consequently he sunburns easily. Additionally, he has a practical sleeve tattooed on his right arm featuring a fearsome great white shark and a few other smaller tattoos scattered on his legs and back. Oz has five piercings in his right ear and a scar on the left ear where an earring was ripped out in a bar fight prior to the outbreak. He had a rebellious streak before the outbreak. He usually wears jeans with a studded leather vest that he sometimes wears a long sleeve shirt under when it's cold. He has a litany of clothes, but not anything he's as attached to as his vest.
Likes| Sharks, smoking pot, thunderstorms, music
Dislikes| clickers(when he meets em he'll hate em), jump scares, rats
Small Backstory| Ozzy grew up a rich, spoiled life. He’s the sole heir to what was once the great Zade family; his great grandfather owned a toy company and made millions under his name. The company was passed down to his son, then it was intended to be handed over to Ozzy when his father would eventually retire. Well, his father was a bit of a fanatic about “the end times”, he became such a fanatic, it turned to paranoia. He built an underground shelter on their mansion’s property, and filled it with enough items to survive off of for years. Everyone thought his father was crazy, including Ozzy himself, but it turned out, his father was unto something. There was a new virus making its way across the country, it spread like a wildfire, and before it could be stopped, it got out of control. People were coming back from the dead, not only that, but they were attacking and killing everyone in their path. The government grew desperate and started bombing all the major cities in an effort to control the outbreak; in a panic, Ozzy ran to the shelter and hid himself there. All he could hope was for his parents to be safe, but they never returned to the shelter, so he assumes today that they’re dead.
Too afraid to leave, he lives off the canned food, purified water, and other provisions that his dad set up in the shelter for them. There was enough food for an army, and his father even kept books and a CD player in there, so he had some entertainment at least. There was also a gun locker, and a few cots. His father had them well prepared for any emergency that might arise in this situation.
After spending three years in the shelter, the food finally ran out, and it’s time for Ozzy to emerge and see what the world is like now.
Well, today is the day; Ozzy is finally forced to leave his shelter of three years, and he's feeling very nervous about it. After three long years, his food supply ran out and he could no longer stay in the shelter that's been his salvation for years. He's scared to go to the surface, he hadn't left this underground shelter since the bombs dropped on the town that was a few miles down the road. He's not even sure if the mansion is in one piece at this point, since it had technically been years since that happened. Still, he had to leave and find more food somehow. Perhaps there's still food in the house, but if not, he'll have to figure out a way to scavenge for more if he wants to live. With a prayer in his heart and his hopes high, Ozzy prepared to leave the underground shelter that morning. The redhead grabs his hunting knife, and his pistol from the gun locker. He's not the best shot, nor does he really know how to use a knife, but he had faith in himself to protect himself if he's threatened, and being armed is better then being unarmed. Before he left his little shelter, Ozzy took his last shower in the shelter, before dressing himself in dark green jeans, and black t-shirt, and his favorite studded leather jacket. Truth be told, Ozzy wasn't sure how the water works, or the electricity, but he supposed it's thanks to their emergency generators in the basement of their mansion. Ozzy made sure to limit his use of electricity when while down here, he only used electricity for emergencies only or when he has to use the electrical oven to cook food, so it's lasted for a long time.
Now that he's armed, he picked up the book he'd been working on; the Stand by Stephen King He was never much of a fan of the man, but he had a pretty limited library here, and his father was the one who chose the books for down here. It's pretty ironic considering the current state of the world, but it's a good book nonetheless. Ozzy stuffs it in his backpack, along with his CD player and the last of the water bottles down here; before moving to the ladder that lead to the door to the surface. Not once did he ever think he'd be willingly climbing out of here, but he should've seen this coming too. Ozzy should've known that no matter how plentiful the food is in here, and apart him was aware of it the whole time, but it was a truth he hadn't wanted to face, but the need was unable to ignore now, his luck, as well as the food storage down here, was going to run out eventually. Now he's entering an unknown world, with little to no knowledge on how to protect himself or find food. It's going to be a long, hard road ahead, but he's going to try his best to stay alive. He made it this far, after all, and he had no intention to just lay down and let starvation take him. The sunlight is bright as hell, it nearly blinds him when he lifts the hatch to let himself out. He hasn't seen sunlight in over three years, he blocks the sun's ray's with one arm, the other shoving the hatch fully open.
"Farewell, old life, hello new," Ozzy murmurs to no one in particular. Talking to himself like this has become a frequent phenomenon in the past three years-- most would probably think he's crazy, but it's damn lonely not having anyone else but yourself as company. It's a miracle that he hasn't been driven crazy. He crawled upon the cool grass and picked himself up to his full height, stretching underneath the sunlight, he decided that he liked being out of that cramped shelter. It was nice while it lasted, sure, but he's definitely ready to live his life in freedom. He pulled the hatch down and closed it, who knew when he would need to return, but he hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. Ozzy's boots crunched over the dried grass, his pace swift as he crossed the dead garden and headed towards the backdoor of his home-- his hazel eyes peered cautiously around his family's flower garden, but it was rather quiet. The redhead briefly remembered how pissed his mother was when his father tore up a plot of flowers to build this shelter. Ozzy couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, a bitter smile fixing his lips. He wished they were still around to bicker at one another, but they are long dead. They never made it to the shelter... So, they were either hit with the bombs, infected, or torn apart by those... things.
Speaking of the zombies, Ozzy is relieved to see that there aren't any around. That meant that the large fence surrounding their property was likely still standing, and that he didn't have to worry about that for now. He didn't bother to worry about any people being in his house, for some reason he hasn't considered it a possibility since his mansion was way out in the country. What human would want to wander this far from the main road? His mother's garden... If she ever saw it in this state, the poor woman would throw a fit. Ozzy's mom was obsessed with gardening and tending her precious flowers, she took care of it personally, instead of making their many servants do it. This garden was the gift his father gave her for their first wedding anniversary, and his mother adored it for decades. Every flower that she tended so dutifully to has withered, the once vibrant green stems and leaves were now dried out and dark brown. There used to be beautiful roses and a menagerie of other flowers about, now their dried, dead petals decorated the garden. The whole garden had died, and Ozzy couldn't help but feel a pit of emptiness form in his stomach. Sucking in a deep breath, he turned away from the garden and made his way to the mansion. He went in through an unlocked back door, and coughed as a gust of wind sent dust flying in his face. Waving the dust away from his face, he let out another cough to clear his lungs but strode inside nonetheless. Okay, so if there's going to be any salvageable food left, it would be in the basement. His father had emergency provisions in there, and Ozzy forgotten to grab them before he fled to the shelter. There's quite a few locks on the basement door, and it looked undisturbed, still locked after three years. It's a good thing that he remembered where to find the key, it should be in his father's office, in the desk where he kept all his other keys.
The redhead is about to make his way there when he hears floorboards creak, and footsteps come towards him. With shaking hands, Ozzy snatched his gun from it's holster on his belt. It's a colt python, and one of Ozzy's favorite pistols that they have, but he barely had a clue on how to fire it. His father is such a gun freak, he had a serious obsession with the things, but Ozzy hated guns. He's a sincere pacifist who hates conflict and violence, but he would need a gun on him at all times to deal with those... Things. There's no other way to stop them other then shooting them, even this naïve survivor knew that much, but he didn't know what could be making those noises either. Praying that it was just an animal that somehow got in, he moved slowly towards the kitchen, where he thought the noise was coming from. The redhead's heart pounded faster with every step he took, he gulped softly as he heard the footsteps continue to move, towards the kitchen this time. Shit! Ozzy didn't have any time to hide before a perfectly normal-looking human rounded the corner.
Oh shit, his mind repeated, he quickly lowered the gun so that it was aimed at the ground once he recognized that it wasn't a zombie, but an actual human being. The last thing he wanted was to kill another human being, he hadn't assumed he would run into anyone so soon after being cooped up for years. Ozzy put one hand that wasn't holding his gun up in surrender, hoping this man didn't want any trouble but you can't really assume that these days, unfortunately, "Who are you, how did you get in here?"
