Name: Langton “Lang” Vire
Age: 19
Height: 6'1
Build: Lean, wiry muscle. The kind that comes from running, climbing, and not dying out of pure spite.
Hair: Dark, long, and always damp-looking, like he just crawled out of rain or a bad decision. Curls hang in his face, usually hiding one eye.
Eyes: Brown, but tired. Not “I stayed up too late” tired. More like “I’ve seen things I didn’t sign up for” tired.

Background:
Before the world decided to eat itself, Langton was just another guy drifting through life without much direction. Not dumb, just... uninterested. School didn’t stick. People didn’t stick either. He had a habit of keeping one foot out the door, like he expected everything to fall apart eventually.

Turns out, he was right. Just not in the subtle way.

When the outbreak hit, Lang didn’t become a hero overnight. He ran. He hid. He made mistakes that got people hurt. That’s the part that stuck with him. Now he survives with a kind of quiet intensity, like every choice is weighed against ghosts that won’t shut up.

Personality:

• Quiet, observant, and annoyingly hard to read

• Dry humor that shows up at the worst possible times

• Doesn’t trust easily, but when he does, it’s absolute

• Carries guilt like it’s part of his gear

• Surprisingly gentle with people who are weaker or scared

He’s not the loud leader type. He’s the one who notices the door you didn’t check, the sound you ignored, the detail that keeps everyone alive another day.

Skills:

• Stealth and movement. He’s fast and knows how to stay unseen

• Good with knives and improvised weapons

• Can navigate urban ruins like it’s second nature

• Decent mechanic. If it runs, he can probably keep it running a little longer

Weaknesses:

• Struggles to let people get close

• Holds onto guilt instead of dealing with it

• Will put himself in danger without thinking if it means fixing a past mistake

• Sleep? Barely. Nightmares do their thing

Vibe:
Langton feels like the kind of person you’d mistake for cold until you realize he’s just... careful. Every movement, every word, like he’s trying not to break what little is left of the world.

Also, with that hair? In a zombie apocalypse? Man’s either tying it back constantly or losing fights to basic hygiene. Survival is brutal, but curls like that still winning. Respect.