New York...<br/><br/>Helena had been walking for weeks now, sleeping when she felt like it, or when her body wouldn't let her go any farther. Unlike most survivors she moved amongst the world without fear. She killed zombies for fun, and sometimes for survival. Either by sheer luck or skill or some such combination of the both she made her way. Helena had broken off of a group that had settled down days back. She refused settle down, the lure of freedom and as much murder of inhuman monstrosities as she could handle was far too much. She took to the road, hoping to find another group.<br/><br/>She walked through the empty streets, amongst rotting corpses, ruined cars, and debris. A bloody, chipped baseball bat over one shoulder, and a duffel bag in the other Helena was looking to score some food. So far she had half of 6 pack of beer and some beef jerky, and a pack of cigarillos, but that wasn't proper sustenance. She carried a double barreled shotgun in the bag as well, but where's the fun in that. Helena stopped in her tracks, hearing the sound of someone rustling about down the street. She unshouldered her bat and grinned, sticking a cigarillo in her mouth. "Let's hope it's a zombie, or some poor schmuck with a lighter." she whispered to herself. She continued down the road to the store and peaked in. Noticing it was indeed just a not so poor schmuck and not a walking corpse she stepped into plain sight. "Yo." she jingled the remnants of the 6 pack in her hand and smiled "Trade you for some food?"<br/><br/>Helena stood at 5 foot 6, a feminanine but muscular frame in a stretched out Slayer t-shirt, cut at the bottom to display her belly tattoos, one reading "ANGELWITCH" in rather large lethers. Low cut jeans with black bikini ties sticking out the sides and big blood stained boots at the bottom.