Lilith Le Diablo.


Gender: Female

Kit: Normal

Location: Anywhere and Nowhere.


Alignment: Hero

Team: Solo Hero


Strength: standard (rank 1)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: superior (rank 2)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Fame Points: 0

Personal Wins: 19

Personal Losses: 24

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active

Hugo Fowl

Entry 1: Dear diary. I'm sorry I haven't written in you for such a long time. But its been pretty busy since I've started the training. Also, a part of me wanted so much to avoid what I've written before the incident. I know, its petty of me but its all I can do to prevent myself from screaming aloud and going mad.

Heh. Funny though, were anyone to talk about zombies in front of me, I would have been the first to slap them in the paddy wagon. Now? Its all I live for....Its all I have. Pathetic really, now that I think of it. And certainly not how my family would have wanted me to use what they gave me. But I'm a Diablo. Revenge is a part of who we are, and if there's one thing I've discovered about myself since I came here, its that I can be such a bitch to the things I hate.

Good to know one thing I can use. I never felt so sore in all my life though.

Entry 10: Dear diary. I visited the medical center again. My headaches are starting to get worse, and I don't know whats going on. I find that it mainly stops whenever I'm alone though. Maybe its some deep-set psyche scarring from what happened? So says the local quack at any rate. Whatever.

I'm being transferred to the Snipers division though because of it. Good, means I can escape the pigs in men's clothing around here. I swear, the next one who propositions me is going to get an impromptu castration.


Entry 28: Dear diary. I think I've discovered a new talent! No.1 in my division, and already I'm out in the field! I should have been scared, or shocked or something....Instead, I was numb. Training took over, and I just kept shooting till we received the call to retreat. Not sure if its a good thing, but if it helps me kill every last one of those walking dead, then I'm good.

I know I have to let it out sometime. But not yet....Not now. Perhaps someday, I'll be able to write what happened to me but not yet.I'm not ready.

On the plus side, I found an adorable wolf plushie in one of the abandoned houses we cleared of the zombies. I know its technically looting, but nobody else was going to claim it....I should know.

I have named it "Fluffy", and it is mine.




Entry 34: Am writing this entry out in the wastelands we had left to the zombies. Low on water, though have been rationing food carefully, along with supplements Precious brings me.

Not sure if there is any point to it, but I do so anyway in the hope I can keep a lid on my sanity.

The base has been overrun, and my comrades have either all died, or gone zombie in which case, I eased their paths. I'm scared.

Oh Lord Almighty, I haven't been this scared since the incident. I may as well place this down now, in the event I don't make it. In the hopes that some other survivor somewhere is able to find it, slim as the chance may be and show it to my commanding officers.

I was just a typical rich brat. Out shopping and partying, despite the threats. And why not? According to the official reports, the zombie menace was being taken care of easily.

F**k the official reports, they lied through their teeth and my family paid the price. Can you imagine coming home....And seeing your family gone zombie? Devouring each other like some-I killed them all. My parents....And my brother. My sisters....All of them, with daddies rifle he kept for emergencies, fat lot of good it did him. After that, I couldn't just stay and do what I did before. How could I? So I joined the military. Answered the call. My only consolation now is Precious, Fluffy(whom I rescued from my barracks) and the fact that at least I took down more zombies then I did had I stayed a brat.

And there you are doc. I wrote down my troubles, acknowledged my own demons like you said.

So why isn't it helping?


Mommy's "Precious"

     Beast Master: standard (rank 1)


It would be a sleepless night, owing to the fact that she had to keep an eye out, though she chose a very defensible place. Just in case. Nevertheless, Lilith would breath a sigh of relief as she saw the light come up, and selecting a bit of jerky for herself to chew, she would stretch and walk over to an impromptu perch, removing a makeshift falconers hood off of her only real companion since this all began. And smiling, she would begin to preen the hawk with her fingers as she crooned.

"Good morning Precious. Did you sleep well? I know I did."

"Precious", a red-tailed hawk was long since used to his mistresses habits and wearily allowed himself to be coddled before she held out the jerky and he began to tear at it.

Around his neck, a special experimental camera would be in place, and though the charge for it was running low, Lilith would continue to use it sparingly. Only hoping that she would be able to get to a workable outlet somewhere before it went dead.

And allowing the hawk to move to her armored pad, she walked toward the hole in the wall and spoke.

"Get on with you now, you know the drill."

He did indeed and would take off into the air, circling the area in wide swoops as the camera began to record visual....Allowing Lilith with her current wrist-computer to know what was happening. Her eyes narrowed as he hissed.




     Piercing Weapon: superior (rank 2)

  • Ranged Attack
  • Long Ranged Attack


Like the legendary female sniper Lyudmila Pavlichenko of WWII fame, Lilith also favored the Mosin. Mainly due to the fact that it was a familiar weapon in her hands, as well as the fact that she felt some kinship whenever she used it to histories greatest female sniper as well.

Superstition perhaps, but all soldiers have their little idiosyncrasies. In this case, it seemed to serve her well as she peered through the scope and saw the threat. Only five...She could always avoid them, but she'd rather they don't alert any other zombie in the area and attaching the silencer to her rifle, she calculated....Then fired thrice.


Its all Math when you get down to it....

     Marksman: superior (rank 2)


Two zombies would fall from one bullet. Fired at the precise moment that all snipers waited for.Lilith on the other hand was far to impatient for such. She didn't just wait. She calculated. The same would occur to the other two, followed by the last one for the remaining one. She sighed and relaxed a hair.

Good thing math was always a favorite subject of hers. And she would glance at the wrist computer before sighing and breaking camp.

Time to go on the move before anything else comes around.....