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Title/Catch Phrase: what day is it
OOC Name: Zucchi
Character Age: 34
Time Zone: -5 GMT
Plotter: potato
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Nickname: Wince, Burke, Wincie, Burkie, Techie, *strings of swear words*
Hometown: Vancouver, BC
Equipment: Wince's favourite clothes are comfortable, old, and a little stinky. He'll change when he has to, but it's a real pain.
If he isn't holding a handheld or some sort of repair tool, you're probably looking at the wrong man. He has a whole triforce-themed backpack full of the stuff. (The backpack is heavy enough to kill a child even by setting it gently on their back.)
History: Wincey was born into this stuff. His parents were some of the earliest adopters of this whole “internet” thing, and they were quick to introduce it to him. He learned his abc’s on a cd-rom and brought his homework to school on a floppy disk. He grew up with a NES and a Gameboy, then a Playstation, a Dreamcast, a Gamecube… When they weren’t gaming together, Wince was basically left to his own devices.

He quickly fell in love with the net. Of course, he had been in love with the gaming world since birth, but when you can’t buy games on your own, free entertainment (and a place to complain) is welcome. He became a regular voice on gamefaqs and other such gaming communities before expanding his world to include anime and manga as well. As he adopted various ways of writing without really considering who was using them, he was regularly mistaken for a girl.

But that’s A-OK~☆ ヽ(=^・ω・^=)丿

…Anyways. Despite his… idiosyncracies, Wince was a genuinely brilliant young man. He started with a degree in computer engineering and then quickly got a job repairing computers. Later he went into tech design, and then, faced with his company’s collapse, he returned to his apartment and earned a living through writing online articles and doing game reviews, with the fabulous benefit of people giving him games for free. Combined with his eating habits he managed to build up quite a bit of cash.

Considering how little he got out, he barely even noticed the plague. Eventually it began to pop up on his usual forums as a few members began to disappear, and though he expressed his disbelief a quick google search shook him out of his stupor. Of course, it was treated as a joke, back then. They were too far removed from the dying to really believe it could happen to them.

Still, it was kind of fun to think about, and Wincey, having very few ties to his family or the outside world, so no harm in playing along. He sold his apartment and moved out a little house out in the wilderness, declaring his project to his online friends – he was going to make a great big generator worthy of an apocalypse, a big wood-fired thing with backup pedal power if necessary right under his desk. It would be fantastic. He’d even bought a bunch of canned food and the like to keep him going without leaving the area.

Of course his friends thought he was nuts, but he’d always been nuts anyways, so he went ahead with it. In the end he ended up buying some of the parts pre-made, but he got the job done, and he felt pretty good about it, too.

And then the internet went out. The electricity, he could have handled by messing around with his generator – but with the internet gone his entire online world, his friends, his income had disappeared.

He retreated into himself in some combination of shock and denial, and hasn’t tried to find civilization since.
Skills/Flaws: Electronics lvl3, Construction lvl1


Poorly-socialized, self-absorbed, obsessive, stubborn, rude
Risk and Reward Number: 14, 18
Joined: 12-November 14
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Oct 10 2015, 10:09 PM
Local Time: Aug 15 2018, 10:02 AM
15 posts (0 per day)
( 0.30% of total forum posts )
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Winston Burkholz


My Content
Nov 28 2014, 11:07 PM
The dull thump of aluminum against leather was followed by the dull thump of flesh against grass, followed by a scrambling to the feet and nervous insults thrown by a fleeing body. “And stay out!”

Winston must have been quite the sight with his fingers tight around a metal lamppost, his shoulders wrapped in a blanket that said “I choose you!”. The expression on his face was less holy wrath and more mild annoyance.

He set the lamppost down, brushed it off, and sighed. He hadn’t bargained for the fighting. Not many people bothered with him – he was out in the middle of nowhere, or at least there was a town nearby that ought to be easier pickings – but that didn’t mean these kids weren’t a nuisance. If he wanted to keep a few years worth of food in his home, that was his own damn business.

Speaking of which, staying out here was making him feel all grungy. Up the lamppost went again, and Winston went straight back towards the door of his little cottage, ready to slam it on any other intruders.
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