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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Name: Casey Stevens<br/>
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Age: 23<br/>
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Height: 5’9<br/>
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Weight: 150 lbs<br/>
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Appearance: 
	

	
	
		
		



		
		
	


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Casey yanked her clip point blade from out of the flailing man’s chest by its black handle and watched him crumple to his knees before her. Using the bottom of her black, laced steel-toed boot, she kicked the menace in the stomach and he stumbled onto his side, jaw gawking as his lungs filled with blood. The brown-haired woman pulled a bruised red and green apple from out of her pocket and bit into it. She was dressed in a rugged, black tank top with gray cargo pants. Her hair had been thrown into a high ponytail that shared the space with her black goggles. <br/>
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<b>“You see, this is what happens when you try to steal my food,”</b> she said through a mouth full of apple. <b>“Do you know how hard it is to come by something like this?” </b>Casey took another bite and stepped closer to the dying man, crouching down just beside of him. His frantic gaze met hers, eyes wide and mouth working to scrape up what last words he could. But Casey wasn’t done. <b>“And another thing….I just don’t like your face.” </b>She shrugged, nonchalantly. With that, Casey grabbed the handle of her blade and jabbed it into the man’s jugular vein. Although, she figured that she must have accidentally hit his carotid artery because blood began spurting into the air from out of his neck like an exotic water fountain. The woman rose to her feet and finished her apple, watching him die. This had been her fifth kill today—she was on a roll. The nomadic woman had managed to venture into a territory of scoundrels and thugs, looking to rob and assault the first outsider that they could. Unfortunately for them, they had picked the wrong outsider to hold up. By the third member of their party’s death, Casey had started hunting <i>them</i>. <br/>
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Tossing the apple core aside, the woman leaned over to retrieve the man’s backpack from the ground. She pondered what stolen goods awaited her. The athletic woman rummaged through the bag but was sorely disappointed in her findings. The bag had been filled almost to the top with useless items: hunks of scrap metal, tattered clothing, PVC pipe… a single shoe? <b>“You spend all day robbing people and this is all you’ve got ? Shit. “ </b>Casey let out a breathy chuckle. <b>“I think I did you a favor.” </b>The woman tossed the bag a foot or so away from the deceased body and placed her blade back into her solid black thigh holster. Swiveling her rifle strap around her body so that the rifle was along her back, she grabbed her knapsack and proceeded onward. The woman had spotted the radiation storm approaching the area not too long ago and didn’t want to get caught up in it without a place to take shelter in. <br/>
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Casey surveyed the deserted landscape for a moment. None of these buildings would work. In fact, she was surprised that they were still standing at all. She needed a building—something with a strong infrastructure that could actually withstand the impact that this radiation storm was about to have. Stepping up onto a mound of rubble and large rocks that overlooked the wasteland, she spotted a small concrete-looking building a few hundred yards away. Perhaps that would have worked? A slight movement caught her attention and she rotated her head to discover three individuals within earshot talking in between several buildings just below.  The woman clicked her tongue, disappointedly, at herself. <i>Guess I missed a few</i>, she thought. But as she listened, she learned that only two of these strangers were a part of the clan that she’d just finished taking care of. The other had been a victim, likely caught by the element of surprise, no doubt. She listened for a moment, mildly intrigued by the situation. <br/>
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“You fucked with the wrong bitch, today.”<br/>
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A brown eyebrow raised at that and a fascinated smile began to spread across the woman’s lips. <i>Oh, a fighter…</i> She stepped closer, visual detection concealed by a tall heap of cement, leftover from some type of building that previously existed. Casey figured that she could spare a moment to watch the outcome of this situation. Surely, the other woman wouldn’t be alive much longer. Or maybe she was the threat and it was these men who were about to get a run for their money.  The woman tugged at her black tank top before propping herself against the building. <i>Gunner?</i> She thought. <i>The hell is that? </i>Casey wasn’t from the region, in fact, she wasn’t from anywhere near here. She’d set out on a mission of her own, in an attempt to reach a destination that had only been conceived by word of mouth. She’d been actively traveling for almost over a year now. <br/>
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“…And I don’t see no chaperone either, sweety. Least ways nothin’ we can’t handle.”<br/>
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Casey chuckled at the comment. <i>That’s what you think… </i>Aside from these men, she was certain that she’d killed the rest of their group. At the scoundrel’s comment, the woman removed her AK-12 assault rifle from her shoulder. She’d nicked it from one of her previous victims several days prior and was eager to put it to some use. She could hear the dark-haired woman below shouting something vile back at her attackers. It wasn’t a common practice for Casey to help strangers. It was a dog-eat-dog world and frankly, she and everyone else was probably better off with fewer people in it. But given the short amount of time that she had between her and this storm and the fact that they were in her direct path to the concrete building meant that she needed to do something quickly. Checking the number of rounds in her magazine, she braced her foot up against one of the rocks and flipped the safety mode to semi-automatic. Using the pistol grip to place the buttstock into the area between her right pectoralis muscle, the woman peered down the top of the barrel and through her optic mount. She centered onto the bearded man’s skull, waited for a moment to make sure that her precision was accurate, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot was loud in her ears and its echo tore throughout the wasteland, however, she couldn’t help but revel at her new toy, especially after seeing what it had accomplished: bullet hole clean through the side of the man’s skull. His body fell to the ground, lifelessly. She looked up from the visual piece and down at the rifle. <b>“I’m gonna have to give you a name,”</b> she spoke to the gun, excitedly. Before the other man had too long of a moment to figure out where the gunshot had come from, Casey flipped the rifle to its two-shot burst mode and repeated. Two rounds were immediately fired into the assailants chest. Finally, she pointed her gun at the woman with the ponytail. She hesitated. Clearly, the woman was only passing through—she didn’t deserve to die. She'd merely been caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time... Although the joy that this rifle was currently bringing Casey almost made it worth putting that woman down. She lowered the rifle, switching it back to safety mode and slinging it over her shoulder. <i>Best to conserve ammunition, I guess.</i> There would be no point wasting it on someone that posed no threat to herself. <br/>
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Casey climbed over the mound of rocks, half running, half sliding down the sandy landscape on the other side. She was on the same plane as the other woman now. Eyeing the concrete building, she advanced towards it. Casey’s hazel eyes glanced over at the woman and her lips parted, as if to say something, but an object on the ground caught her eye. <b>“Oh shit! Is that a pipe rifle!?” </b>The young adult could barely hide the fascination in her tone, eyeing the poorly manufactured weapon. Her deep-seated fascination for weaponry of all types was sure to be the bane of her existence, one day. She chuckled and glanced over at the other woman, eyes passing over the tattoo on her neck, though her boots continued to press onward. The two women were about several feet apart now, as Casey crossed her path. She licked her pink lips. <b>“Storms coming,”</b> she warned, casually. Casey had already spent too much time dicking around, she wasn’t about to stay and chat. She needed to find shelter for the evening quickly if she wanted to live another day. </span>