Name: Ben Dover
Age: 17
Personality: Typically friendly, prefers not to get into conflicts if possible, loving LOVES being cold
Appearance: Tall 17 year old fatass, white, has a pube stache and a goatee, black hair
Inventory: Hunting knife, pistol handle
Clothing: Hunting jacket, #yolo T-shirt, shorts, Nike sneakers, white socks
Backstory*: As a child, Bill's parents never really cared about him. He developed a strange obsession with cats. Whenever he sees a cat, he will drop everything he has at the moment and go to cuddle with it. He also loves chicken, and being in meat lockers.
Previous RPs*: None on this forum.
Other**: He'll strangle you if you talk about ants, he is currently fondling a steak in a meat locker.
Skill***: Falling over a lot, no balance, Doesn't notice sickness due to fatassery, but still feels some effects, he just figures it's his fat ass not working right
My RP begins:
"Oh my god I love meat..." I fondly state as a caress a piece of steak, not noticing the cold numbing my body. "How long have I even been in there?" I wonder, as I begin to consider I've been here a bit too long, though I just disregard it. "How the hell have I even survived?" I wonder, not bothering to realize that eating Ice gives me water. I decide that now it is time to take a nap, so I lay on a cooler, and get some rest.