Name: Grímur
Race: Icelandic
Gender: Male
Occupation: Bartender
Age: 26
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 135lbs

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Inventory

• Heavy Melee Weapon (Spear / Polearm)
  
• Music player
  
• Duffel bag
  
• 2 Water bottle - Full
  
• A large bag of crackers, peanut butter flavoured.
  
• Box of Wheat Cereal
  
• Clean towel
  

Background: Grímur spent the past year and a half working on a riverboat as a bartender and lounge singer. Entertaining was a passion of his and he spent most of his life as an up and coming singer/dancer but never managed to catch his big break. Probably never will, now. For two weeks after the dead started walking he stayed there with a handful of coworkers and customers, then ended up leaving and has been largely on his own since. A city boy at heart, he has had a difficult time adjusting to scrounging for survival and even harder time finding people who will not screw him over.

Appearance: At first glance, Grímur looks more like a small, androgynous wandering bundle of cloth than a person. He wears a hodgepodge of cobbled together clothing. Light, breathable pants cuffed at the ankles, wound in torn fabric up to his knees, and clunky hiking boots. Wears a gray overshirt, also wound with fabric from wrists to under his elbows, and black gloves. A tattered pink tie hangs from his neck. Overtop he wears a black, canvas coat, oversized that hangs to about his knees. His face is hidden under a tinted motorcycle helmet. A small duffel bag is slung over his back and the only visible weaponry he totes is a big, two-handed boar spear.

Moves with the easy, sure-footed grace of a dancer. Speaks with a pleasant lilt to his tone and accented English. When he isn't wound up in strange garb, you can see he has pale skin with faded freckles scattered across his nose and forehead. Very light, white-blond hair that's been hacked short helter-skelter with a dull knife. Pale blue eyes set beneath light eyebrows and pale lashes give him an almost ghastly, faded appearance that isn't helped by the dark circles under his eyes. Cuts a striking profile with a strong nose, high, prominent cheekbones, and gaunt cheeks - handsome or pretty in the way a gloomy landscape portrait is.

Personality: Grímur had a bubbly, warm personality prior to the apocalypse. Doing certain things to survive has put cracks in his resolve and he adheres to a set of rituals and habits that many would regard as bizarre. If there were any therapists alive to diagnose him, he would probably fall somewhere into the spectrum of OCD. Furthermore he's always just a little out of it; he tends to speak overly bluntly, has a penchant for inside jokes (with himself), and a lot of things he does just doesn't outwardly seem to make much sense... His outgoing personality seems more or less intact, but he comes across as overly or inappropriately friendly a lot of the time, which has landed him in trouble with more unscrupulous individuals.

The Key of Doom: "I agree to, or rather aspire to, my doom."
The Key of Crazy: "Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."