Out-of-Character Information
Name: Kate
Age: 24
Timezone: Mountain
PB: Adrian Lester
In-Character Information
Basics
Name: Mark Lawrence Walker
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Date of Birth: March 20, 1973
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Status: Celibate
Contribution: Priest/Counselor
Personality
Personal Strengths: Wise, faithful, loyal, open-minded, good listener, calm, quiet, patient, fitness/endurance
Personal Weaknesses: Hesitant - thinks when he should act and philosophizes when he should run, pacifist, can sometimes seem cold or distant, starting to feel his age - knows he's not as strong or fast as he was ten years ago, bad left knee
Brief Summary: Through years of practice and service Mark has become a skilled counselor and adviser. He sometimes doubts the quality of his advice, but he never doubts the value of just being there to listen to someone. He's a man of peace and hates to see people in conflict. He does everything he can to get people to talk to each other and reach agreements; the world has enough problems without people fighting each other.
Mark's greatest virtue is wisdom. Between his life experience, extensive reading, and learning from others he knows quite a lot. More importantly, he thinks carefully about that knowledge, trying to transform it and apply it in ways that make the world and people's lives better. Perhaps unusually for a devoutly religious person, he is very open-minded, willing to listen and try to understand people's opinions and life experiences without judging. He's relatively strong and fit, enough that he can pull his own weight, as it were, and seldom complains about physical hardships (and he'll kick your butt on the basketball court).
He isn't a man of action. He'd much prefer to think things over at his leisure and carefully choose the best option. While this can help him stay calm in an emergency, it doesn't make him very good in a fight and he struggles to change course when there is a sudden change in plans. He tends to brood, becoming very quiet and solitary at times trying to figure out the meaning of everything that is happening.
Appearance
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 185
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black
Distinguishing Features: Tall, lean, dark skin, short hair, far-away look, bright smile
Wardrobe: When he wasn't performing his official duties, and now that the world has 'ended', he leaves off the black shirt and collar of his profession in favor of less conspicuous clothing. He dresses as neatly as he can, in slacks or jeans and button down shirts. He tries to mend his clothing carefully whenever it is damaged so that it will last as long as possible.
History
Summary: Mark Lawrence Walker was born in Chicago, Illinois. His father ran off when he was still a baby, leaving his mother Michelle to raise he and his sister Shannon alone. They didn't have much money and lived in a small apartment in a poor part of the city. Still, his mother worked hard to provide what she could for her children. As a kid, Mark was something of a troublemaker. He hung out with a fairly tough crowd and he didn't care much about school. His only real interest aside from hanging out with his friends was playing basketball, which he found he was really good at. That kept him out of some trouble, since he was occupied with practices and had to keep his grades up enough to stay on the team.
When he was a freshman in high school, his life changed. His sister, only a year and a half older than him, was killed in a drive-by shooting. Mark was shattered. None of the things that had mattered to him before seemed at all important after that. His friends, girls, sports, school, what was the point of any of it when life could end so cruelly and meaninglessly? What he wanted was answers. He was raised Catholic, although his family was never terribly serious about it. They went to church once or twice a month and on holidays. After Shannon's funeral though, Mark never left the church, both figuratively and literally. That day, after the service, he stayed there in the chapel for hours and hours, not wanting to return home or go out into the real world at all. He read the bible until his eyes watered from the tiny print.
After that he was at mass every week. He joined the choir, he started volunteering for various projects. With the guidance he received at the church and with the support of his grieving but relieved mother he turned his life around. He went to college on a basketball scholarship and studied theology, looking for meaning and answers in every religion and philosophy he could find. He kept returning to the religion of his childhood in the end though. By the time he graduated he knew he had been called to service, so he joined the seminary and eventually took holy orders as a Jesuit priest.
He spent several years traveling, doing missionary work in Latin America and the Caribbean. Returning to the U.S. after that he served as an interim priest for rural parishes in the West and Midwest before landing at Regis University in Denver as part of the university ministry.
When the disease struck many of the survivors from the area gathered at the school and at the chapel, especially once the quarentine proved useless and Eaters began roaming the streets. The survivors barricaded the doors and shared what rations they had. Of the dozens of people who had gathered there most eventually succumbed to the Fury Virus, just as the rest of the population had. It was a long, trying time as one by one those poor people were buried in the prayer garden while the other survivors kept watch. Mark's faith was badly shaken, seeing what had happened to the world, though he hid his troubles from the people sheltering with him. This was not the time for a spiritual crisis.
When the sickness abated, they thought that was it. There were only eight of them left. They survived well enough, some keeping watch, some going out to find supplies, everyone doing their part. Then the Eaters came. They managed to fend the creatures off, but Mary, Renee, and Leo all were killed in the process. Three more funerals, three more humps of earth in the prayer garden. They weren't the only victims though. Two other survivors had been infected. A day later, while hiding with the others, they turned. In the chaos that followed within the chapel Kevin and Jane managed to take down one of the newly turned Eaters before they were both killed by the other. Mark grabbed one of the massive candle holders from the altar to defend himself, and somehow managed to destroy the last creature. The creature that until a day before had been Steven.
It was a miracle that he was still alive, and yet he was left all alone. He buried the last of his former companions, including the two who had been turned, becuase they were his companions as well and their souls deserved rest. Not knowing what else to do after that, Mark prayed and he talked to God, and for a short while he even yelled at God, furious with what He had allowed to happen to His creation. Though he was angry and confused his faith never quite flickered out though. He couldn't let it. It was the only thing he had left.
One day he found cans of green and red and gold paint left in the church basement from making old Christmas decorations. He took them outside and stared at the building, its broken windows, its battered door, and its big blank wall. For all the church had been through, it was still a sanctuary. Taking the can of green paint he smiled to himself, oddly reminded of his early teenage years and rebelliously tagging a building in Chicago. In the largest letters he could he painted on the side of the building: "YOU ARE NOT ALONE." He continued this practice, each day painting a message or a verse on the building or the roof or even the street outside. Somehow this consoled him and he hoped that someday someone would find his messages and they too would be consoled.
The people who found those messages came sooner than expected. A group of other survivors, gathered together and staying on the move. They had stopped as they drove by, noticing his messages. Mark invited them to take shelter in the church building, to rest and recuperate if they could, and provided them with what was left of the supplies that had been gathered there. When they left, he left with them. There was nothing else left for him there.
