❛⠀basics.

• Nickname(s): Onda — Soldier Maiden of Ansikjeo City.
• Date of Birth: May 18, 2000 — 27.
• Zodiac Sign(s): Dragon — Taurus.
• Place of Birth: Daegu, South Korea.
• Occupation: Military Officer (Major General).
• Spoken Language(s): Korean — Japanese — English.
• ual Orientation: Biual.
• Romantic Orientation: Biromantic.
• Relationship Status: Single.

❛⠀appearance.

• Height: 174cm.
• Weight: 47kg.
• Hair Color: Black (formerly) — Orange (current).
• Eye Color: Brown.
• Piercing(s): None.
• Tattoo(s): A dragon tattoo at the back of her right shoulder.
• Clothing Style: Anything that's comfortable enough for her to fight in. Usually clad in a plain shirt with a leather jacket. Bandaged up to her elbows to avoid contact with zombie saliva with any wounds she may end up having during fights. Military cargo pants. Military boots.

•.*★ chapter one。 Beginning of the End.

If a man hasn't discovered something to die for, he isn't fit to live. — Martin Luther King Jr.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

Jo Serim is the only daughter of the Jo Family—the youngest of five children. Her father is part of the South Korean Armed Forces, a high-ranking officer, while her mother is a criminal defense lawyer.

Having grown up in a more masculine dominated household, it isn't much of a surprise that Serim grew up one of the boys as well, despite her mother's attempts at having her grow up more feminine. "We all need a touch of softness in here," her mother had said.

But Serim preferred guns and swords over dolls and dresses. She preferred martial arts over playing house. It was her brothers' influence, and her strong respect for her father's line of work. Even when she was young—at the tender age of six—she thought that fighting for one's country was an incredible honor to have. 

She had lost two of her brothers to war. Both of them being much, much older than she was, she wasn't that close with either of them—yet of course, she grieved. Yet of course, she honored their deaths—she was going to be a soldier they were proud of. She was going to fight for her country and die with it if it ever fell—there was no greater honor than to serve the country she lived at.

Their deaths served as her motivation. They had died valiantly in battle. She should be sad, she should be grieving but all she could think was that she was going to take their names upon her tiny shoulders and carry their names with her for the rest of her days in way of honoring them.

However, come the year 2013—with Serim only being eleven years old, she was given a gun by her father. "Kill any Infected," he had said as she watched her mother's corpse drop to the ground, head smashed and her face barely recognizable. "Kill—or you will die on the battlefield."

Killing came easy to Serim then. 

The Infected weren't humans anymore. The Infected shouldn't be alive, or more people would have to die. As a soldier, Serim had to prioritize the safety of the majority than her own morals. Serim had to ensure that the lives of many were safe and sound, while her hands drowned in more and more crimson.

But what she went through didn't matter. This was what it took to be a soldier. If it meant honoring her brothers' names, then she would lose her humanity for it.

To die for one's country was an honor... right?

Her family took refuge in Ansikjeo City, where her father immediately joined the high ranks in leading the city. This allowed Serim privileges and luxuries that the common folk couldn't enjoy. That didn't matter to Serim—all she wanted to do was to make sure that the people inside the city were well-protected. 

Climbing up the ranks was easy. The friends she made would always end up betraying her—but she didn't care much. They were traitors. They had to be gunned down. Even if that traitor was her closest friend—her almost lover—she hadn't cared. Why risk the safety of many for one's selfish beliefs? She couldn't understand.

Becoming a Major General at eighteen was a privilege—an honor she would have died for. She had felt proud, even if she merely served as a replacement for another officer who was arrested for treason. She had turned her back on the rebels—closed her eyes, because a heart wasn't necessary to become a soldier.

As long as she knew her reason... that was enough, wasn't it?

•.*★ chapter two。 Death of a Maiden.

Cold-hearted. That was what they called her. Her smile was icy despite how it rivalled the sun with its brightness. Her eyes were empty—reminded them of a doll, they would say. Like a doll, she was given a new name. She was never Jo Serim, the sole daughter of the retired Major General Jo. She was simply Onda,  the Soldier Maiden of Ansikjeo City.

She believed she was fine with that.

Her father died when she was twenty. They told her he died of sickness, but they never showed her his body. She found it on her own—head bashed, brain splattered against the cement.

She didn't puke. She didn't budge. She only turned her back. If her father died, then perhaps he had done something the higher-ups found unacceptable. A soldier could never ask. They could never talk back. She was merely a pawn to be used—a pawn to be sacrificed.

(But how much longer are you going to be a pawn, Serim?)

Serim never thought she would have to point her gun at the people she had sworn to protect.

Come January of 2023—rebels were far more active than before. Rebels and civilians alike broke the law—tried to go out of the city, where hundreds—thousands of the undead waited for them. Her orders were simple and straight to the point.

"Kill anyone who tries to leave! Kill if you want to live!"

So she fired.

But with every shot, she hit precisely. But with every shot, another body fell. But with every shot, her chest felt heavier and heavier and heavier until she could no longer breathe—

and she dropped her gun to the ground, gasping for breath as she held onto her chest. Rebels ran away from her, civilians did not even look back at her.

Why was she killing the same people she'd sworn to protect? Why was killing them necessary? Why?

For the first time, she questioned them.

For the first time, she didn't want to be a soldier anymore.

So she ran—she ran away, taking her gun with her. She gunned down those who tried to fire at her. She fired at those who tried to stop her from leaving the city.

"If you leave, you will never have a place to come back to!"

She hesitated. 

But still, she yelled back, "I don't care anymore! If this is the place I'm going back to, then I'd rather be homeless."

And with that, she left, leaving behind her brothers—the only family she had left. They didn't follow like she thought they would. 

She had spent her time wandering around aimlessly, hunting for food—scavenging in the places she could remember from her time in the city. It was only recently she found the motel where other survivors were staying at. 

This stay wasn't permanent—or at least, she hoped it wouldn't be. She'd rather not be betrayed. She'd rather not be used. Not anymore.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ likes。
Hunting — Training — Cooking — Well-cooked meals (aka her own cooked meals) — Company — Journaling — Novels — Food.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ dislikes。
Groups — Teaming up — Cooking for others (but can be arranged) — Unnecessary noise — Badly cooked meals — Solitude.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ hobbies。
Training — Hunting — Cooking — Reading — Journaling — Travelling.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ secrets。
tba.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ fears。
Being betrayed — Dying alone with no one to remember her.

⸢ ⋆ ⸥ vices/bad habits。
Distrust in others — Smoking — "Shoot first, talk later."

•.*★ important。 Try to have something in mind and read my profile before actually talking to me about roleplaying. I am open to brainstorming, but please do not come to me completely empty-handed. Reading my profile is important.

•.*★ writing style。 3rd pov only. My length ranges from a single paragraph to a whole novella, depending on how high my muse is for the thread. I do get carried away often times, but it doesn't have to be mirrored.

•.*★ plotting style。 I prefer plotting over winging, even if it's just a small backbone of what we're supposed to be doing. This is why you should read my profile first and come to me with an idea in mind. I often do the same.

Starters are based on who seems to make the most sense to start. If it makes more sense for my character to start, then I will write the starter, and vice versa.

•.*★ important。 I rarely ever poke people, and do not like being poked. 10 days — please only poke me after 10 days. I usually know who I'm writing with, and if I haven't replied to you yet, that means either of the two things: a. I don't have enough muse for it yet and; b. I'm busy. Often times it's a mixture of both. Please don't use my replying to other threads faster than yours against me. It's a simple matter of which of the threads I have more muse with.

I'm usually fast with my replies, sometimes regardless of the length. But again, it depends on the muse. We can always drop/pick up our thread(s), but make sure you communicate with me. Also know that I might be active in the chat infrequently or a lot. I'm not a very consistent person when it comes to this.

I definitely prefer the rooms to keep the rp active! If it's not possible to get a room for it, then walls we go! My PMs are only for ooc business. Please don't post on my walls unless I allow you to.

•.*★ scenario。 availability.

genres, genders, ages, rating...

Text stuff goes here. Type as much as you want here, but be mindful of the rest of the layout and the overall look of the layout.

•.*★ scenario。 availability.

genres, genders, ages, rating...

Text stuff goes here. Type as much as you want here, but be mindful of the rest of the layout and the overall look of the layout.

•.*★ scenario。 availability.

genres, genders, ages, rating...

Text stuff goes here. Type as much as you want here, but be mindful of the rest of the layout and the overall look of the layout.