CARDIGAN, M.

MAXINE ANNABEL CARDIGAN

you always were the one to show me how, back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now. this thing is slowly taking me apart, grey would be the color if I had a heart.

PERSONALITY

DISTANT. most of the time, whenever someone stops max and she's talking to you for longer than a few minutes, she doesn't always seem there. she is listening, and max can respond to whatever's said perfectly fine, but she often avoids eye contact with people when it's in close quarters, or seems like her mind's completely engulfed elsewhere. a lot of this has to do with the fact that she doesn't express a lot of emotions while on the island, especially to their "civilians." she thinks that a lot of people will back off enough, and prevent themselves from getting too close to her, before something bad happens.

SERIOUS. if max displays any emotion, it's normally seriousness. she takes her responsibilities as leader very seriously, and nothing or no one can stand in her way of performing them properly, and efficiently. the number one priority on her list, and constantly in her mind, is making sure that the people she's leading survive the hell that they've been thrown into. for their sakes, she maintains her position, and doesn't back down to scar's demands.

GUARDED. guarded is one of the main words that might come to mind when looking at max from afar. she usually keeps herself secluded when she's outside of her room on the island, and isn't very approachable- because she chooses to be that way. a lot of people find her intimidating because of it, but she just simply wants to keep herself in tact, mentally and emotionally, so that she can stay in tact physically. keeping herself on a short leash is the only way she can really do that, so coming off as unavailable and uninterested is the way she goes.

HARSH. as a leader, max has to make crude decisions, and most of the time, they're unthinkable. unfortunately, because she's taken on the responsibility, it's up to her to make decisions between life and death. and, she does so with a stone-like façade, without a single crack. she maintains a strong backbone in front of others about things like abandoning certain survivors because they can't be risked, or having to put down a fellow comrade within the city's streets because they've possibly become infected. in most cases, she doesn't even blink.

CRUDE. there isn't a filter left in max's system, and because of her role as leader, she's a lot more blunt than she ever was before. there are times where she offends a lot of people because she's so cruel and "harsh" with what she says, but she's a firm believer in reality, and coming to terms with it, no matter the situation.

STRESSED. most of the time, inwardly, max has a billion things trying to balance on her shoulders. between her personal thoughts, and thoughts about running grim's row, it all just tangles together in an unsorted mess that she can't really comprehend most of the time. although she does well to hide it from the public's eye, when she's by herself, it normally ends up taking up most of her casual time.

SCARED. although max comes off as fierce when she's out in the city, raiding for her people, and running the show, she's terrified. there isn't a clue in her head as to how they're going to survive if something goes wrong, and she always worries and fears the worst. she has nightmares because of it, sometimes, and there's moments where she catches herself freezing when they're in the middle of a raid because a small flash of what could happen is showing behind her eyelids, but she's never admitted this to anyone. she doesn't think a fearless leader who's really almost scared of her own shadow now is a good thing to own up to.

CARING. for every time max has ever seemed like she didn't care about something, she actually has. she cares too much, actually, which is why she appears like she doesn't care at all. every loss that they mourn, every problem within their community.. she takes it all to the heart, and that's where it stays. occasionally, she'll show acts of kindness, but they're rare to come by, and don't usually happen when a lot of people are around. the reason why she attempts to hide this is because she doesn't want to seem to play favourites amongst the people, and letting scar see that she has a weakness for these survivors would only make their matters worse.

HYPOCRITE. most of the time, max tells people to be brave, to be good to themselves, and to trust those around you. but she hardly ever trusts anyone, no matter who's side they're on, and she certainly isn't good to herself. the only reason why she's brave is because she's had so many years of practice that it almost comes naturally, but it's not bravery to her anymore; it's more so stupidity mixed with numbness. she puts on a front to make people feel better about themselves, give them hope, when she constantly feels the exact opposite.

ALCOHOLIC. like many other people, max turned to alcohol to help her on lonely nights, where she had no one to cuddle but the extra pillow in her bed. alcohol was once something she drank usually just on the weekends, or for special occasions, but after scar's infection started to spread, she's slipped more dependently to the narcotic. the only way she can sleep now, half of the time, is if she's had quite a few mouthfuls off a bottle. it's not something she's proud of, and because of the fact that she's ashamed, she hides the true amount of dependence on the substance, only occasionally dipping into the bourbon to actually drink, hoping to maintain a better public appearance than what she actually sees in the mirror.



○ alcohol
○ fast bikes
○ leather
○ knives of any sort
○ rainy weather
○ pasta
○ sex
○ sleeping in
○ smoking
○ cuddling



○ politics
○ religion
○ scar / corperate people
○ telemarketers (luckily she wont have to deal with them anymore)
○ too much solitude
○ being mocked
○ large crowds
○ country music
○ cold weather
○ snakes



○ smoking
○ drinking
○ cursing
○ half-speaking thoughts
○ keeps information
○ tries to avoid questioning

HISTORY

life up until the age of seven for max had started out how any other military did; things were strict, but to a small extent. addressing her father with 'sir' instead of 'dad' eventually grew old, but maxine kept it up for her father's spirits. her mother, lisa, had even taken to calling her husband sir, but had always done so in a joking manner. she learned most of her earlier traits from her older brother, theodore, who was absolutely obsessed with becoming their father. it was adore in the beginning, and max wanted to be just like them; only in a much more womanly way.

it was about four months after her seventh birthday when their mother left for a "job interview", and never returned. at first, their father had suspected that something had happened to her. that one of the state's enemies, or a personal enemy, had captured her for torture, or maybe ransom. but kidnapped women didn't take packed bags and half of the bank account with them. she had left them high and dry, without a reason, or even a small hint that she was going. it served as a shock to everyone, considering her habits had home hadn't changed at all; she was still loving, caring, fun-loving.. it just didn't make sense.

max's life started to spiral from there. she grew up in a matter of two days after the realization that her mother had just ditched out, and she didn't understand any of it. thus, her dislike for people she didn't already know started to grow, and it wasn't long before she was secluding herself from everyone else in school. people became disgusting to her, with the way that they could just give up the hopes of supposed loved ones, and break their hearts without cause. none of that spoke out to max as okay, and it wasn't alright for her. but she'd never really been given a comforting hug, or inspirational words; that had always been her mother's job.

her father enrolled her into karate the summer after her mother left, and she started her pre-military training from there. her dad might not've meant to come off as strong as he did about her becoming a second son to him, but after their mother left, he became less sympathetic to the fact that she was a girl, and started treating her like a man. on one hand, it made max strive harder to become something she could never be, but at the same time, it chipped at a lot of max's mommy-daughter moments that she should've had the experience to feel. and everything she had remembered, the good memories, from her mother, were now replaced with the constant overworking father, hovering over her as she tried to compete with her brother's push up count.

after her nineteenth birthday, max gave her father her "two weeks resignation" to his mini-army family, and moved herself across seas, to germany. the army cadets that he'd enrolled her into hadn't been a big thing for max, but it had opened her to a new horizon. the only reason why her father didn't peak about the idea was because of her reasoning for moving to germany; she was going to get better involved with her training. in fact, it might've been the only time he seemed to be more proud of her than her older brother, who didn't like the idea of going over to germany to accompany her.

while in germany, she trained for almost a year, until hitting people she wasn't actually angry at just wasn't enough. she wanted some sort of action, no matter what it was. she was approached by a man who suggested some work to her, and after some contemplation about the negatives and positives, max agreed to her first thievery job. it was simple enough, and the fact that she'd increased with her agility since she'd moved to germany, it served as rather easy. and addictive. the money she got from simple jobs like pickpocketing, or breaking in and stealing something as worthless - to her, at least - as a gold watch? if it weren't for the authority figures who took to noticing her rather easily after a while, max would still probably be in germany; big house, lots of expensive clothes, that sort of thing. instead, she was forced back to america, unless she wanted to risk getting thrown into jail.

she kept to her habits in germany, and eventually, she was cornered. only, this time, it wasn't to throw her in jail, or give her a warning. it was a job proposition. she was asked to do some mercenary work, and after given the price range for most of the jobs they had set up for her, max couldn't refuse. from there, her mercenary work grew into a life of its own; she was helping just about everyone with the problems they didn't want to dirty their hands with. and although she had a personal rule book about jobs she would and wouldn't take, she still had a fairly busy week schedule on a regular basis. occasionally, because of her ties to the military with her father, she'd get called in to help out with some of their jobs, as well.

that lead her to meeting benjamin kanst, a man she wasn't very fond of upon first meeting. she took their first job together for granted, and didn't give him the time of day, but she had assumed that that'd be the only time they'd be sectioned together. max, after all, wasn't in her line of work for the friends she could make.



when the infection had finally started to take a negative tole on the world, max had been an hour from home. the news was blaring everywhere in cars among the highway around her, and because of the buzz, and the erratic way cars were seeming to fly from the city, max switched her radio from CD to a local broadcast station. what she heard almost made her swerve, but after she clued in, her natural lead foot was released, and she was swaying in and out of cars, avoiding ones that were trying to turn around. her reason for darting into the heart of a well populated city? her weapons, her bike, her everything. if she had any hope of surviving, she was going to have to retrieve them.

luckily, max had made it into her apartment fine, and after grabbing what she could, packed her bike up in her truck, and tore out of there. she was almost completely out of the city when she almost ran into a man that had no transportation; left to fend on foot. it had enraged max, mostly because she had wanted to think for herself and get the hell out of there, but he looked familiar, and as soon as they made eye contact, max knew she couldn't leave him. ben accompanied her in the passenger seat, and she'd been dead-set on getting out of there without anymore obligations, but things didn't work out that way at all.

a group of survivors begged for refuge in the truck, and not having the heart to deny them, max allowed them on. it was more people to watch over, people with no experience whatsoever in taking care of their lives in such a manner, but max had made the decision to put that weight on her shoulders. hopefully, for the best.

san francisco was max's first idea. the infection had started there, so they had to have a cure. unfortunately, all they were met with were territorial members of scar, and intimidation. the island alcatraz wasn't occupied by anyone, and with no other place to go that was safe, max made the order to transport everything that they couldn't live without across to the old prison. from there, they started a sanctuary, her and ben. it started to grow as more survivors signalled for help, and in fear of scar coming to kill them, parties were sent out to retrieve and inspect them, looking for any signs of infection.

it's a fragile compound, but it brings enough security to those who live on the island that it's comforting. max just wishes she'd taken on an easier role in all of this. one that she can't let so many people down with.

INVENTORY

TACTICAL MACHETE. max's tactical machete was originally a late gift from her older brother, and it used to rest in a case in her apartment's living room. after the infection broke out, it was one of the first things max grabbed when she returned home in order to gather the things that she needed. it's light in weight, making it easy to control and carry. when she leaves the island for whatever reason, her machete is always in hands' reach.

SWITCHBLADE. a more subtle, and worn blade compared to her machete, this acts as max's human-weapon. she carries it always, even when she's showering, to ward off any unwanted attention that there might possibly be. it also serves as a back up if she ever loses her machete, and things get desperate. normally, it's in her boot, but when she wants it in closer range, she wedges it between her hip bone and her pants.

BERETTA 92A1 HANDGUN. definitely not max's favourite handgun type, but she can't complain much about the beretta. it holds twelve rounds, and despite the weight it is, it's more comforting than not. she tries not to use it in most cases, because of the noise from firing a gun, but if it means saving her life, she'll do it. normally, it's found in the back of her pants, tucked over her shirt in a bit of a warning to anyone who's around her, but she hardly ever needs to pull it out.

TACTICAL BACKPACK. this is where everything goes on raids. at least, everything that max deems important enough to have to bring back to the island. along with anything useful they find that she feels more comfortable carrying herself, she also fills the outter pockets with rations and bandages in case of emergencies while out in the field.

INCONSPICUOUS SMOKE CASE. this is, quite possibly, max's most precious item that she carries on her person absolutely everywhere. she has a very bad smoking habit, but like her alcoholism, she hates showing it. in fact, she's trying to quit. but she wants to keep it under wrap as much as possible, so carrying around a pouch that looks like it could mean something to her, sentimentally, it helps a bit with getting away with the fact that there's nothing but matches and nicotine inside.

OTHER

anything else that you feel needs to be shared with the world about your character can go here; optional.

OUT OF CHARACTER