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Author Topic: [ e r a ] of the living dead.  (Read 272 times)

[ e r a ] of the living dead.
« on: December 01, 2019, 08:49:58 AM »
[ CONTENT WARNING: violence/gore, psychological trauma, character death, etc ]

Hey, do you remember where you
were when the world ended?


zombie apocalypse AU based on the last of us video game series!

Five years after the outbreak of the cordyceps virus, society is little more than a parody of its former self. People pretend, of course, with their decorative flowers set outside decrepit buildings with filthy rugs for beds. Everyone knows that there is no way back, deep down. No quarantine is a home. It is merely a glorified system of cages that pretends to be more than a regime dictated by police and a government in shambles.

Civilization rots in its wake. Some forgot civilization right away. The chaos of the infection drew out those with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Yes, zombies were the enemy. Even so, zombies merely acted on the mindless hunger of the fungus twisted around in their brains. Humans in their violence would think, perhaps feel, and still choose to proceed.

There are settlements ordained by the remnants of a government. There are tribes, there are cults, there are those who traverse a wasteland of overgrown, hollowed-out ruins with no company at all. Anyone is laden with possibilities; an ally, a friend in the making, an enemy with a bloodthirst concealed by a human smile. No one searches for anything that does not provide immediate gratification and hope for survival.

Well, almost no one searches.

Rumor exists of Fireflies: those searching for immunity. Whispers breathe life into the idea that this organization is beginning that intends to find and study these subjects to find a cure for the infection. It sounds like a fairy-tale, really. No one could possess an immunity to something so devastating, could they? Besides, human experimentation still sounds far too brutal for those not yet bogged down by the hatred flooding the world itself.

Whatever path you take in the desolate world around you, know it to be one paved by sacrifice. Choices have outcomes, consequences, retribution. You would be well-advised to pick wisely.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
(will contain information like age, status (living, dead, infected), things such as their immunity and any other info you might desire to have in.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
in a more freeform style, please post a mini bio for your character! explain their backstory in a modern universe leading into apocalypse times, including any major differences to their character that may have come from a life that plays out differently!

comparable to the year 845 being used as a basic parameter to keep everyone consistent, we will be using 2018 as that year in this thread. ALSO for consistency: the outbreak began in spring of 2013. it began in austin, texas, and had spread to and devastated the rest of the world by the end of the year.
« Last Edit: December 01, 2019, 04:38:07 PM by the dear hunter. »

[my harem characters!]
sebastian schwarz | armin arlert | alice stamper | aderyn rossi | rosin köhler

Re: [ e r a ] of the living dead.
« Reply #1 on: December 02, 2019, 03:56:37 AM »
[ EXTRA CW ON TOP OF GENERAL THREAD WARNING: cultist bullshit and vague references to assault ]

sebastian schwarz | 18 in 2018

[2013, age 13] with the outbreak having started within a mile of her home, seb was among the lucky hundreds to encounter a runner first. being in a bad neighborhood, her first thought upon seeing the front door and window of her house smashed in wasn't anything to do with mind-destroying fungus. knowing that the police would take far too long to get there, as calls like hers were nonstop for the area (in the middle of the night, no less), she took the lug wrench out of back of her father's truck and prepared herself for anything.

at least, she thought she was prepared. for robbers, for murderers, for a gang, even. but not the infected. there was nothing and no one on the first floor, but the door to the basement was broken in, as well. there were grunts and shouts audible from the top of the stairs, like there was a fight going on. more unnerving than that was the guttural moans to accompany. seb slowly made her way down, just in time to see her father lose the upper hand against his attacker and the mauling begin. maybe it was drugs, or psychosis, or something else. she didn't know. she almost left, too horrified by her father screaming and still trying to fight. even so, as soon as she saw anna hiding in the corner, clearly in shock, she did what was right: motioned for anna to cover her eyes, made sure she did, then crept up behind the woman pinning her father to the ground and bashed her skull in. there was no time for reason or weaker tactics. who was going to argue it to be anything but necessary?

it was much too late to do anything for her dying father by then. he was doomed, and seemed to know it as well as she did. seb focused only on what had to be done after that. she treated a wound on her sister's leg after she got her away from the bodies in the basement. she gathered what she could, which amounted to guns (her father had been a "true texan", after all), a bit of food, and some clothing. with no real idea where to go, she got anna in the truck and just tried to get away, using her somewhat limited knowledge of how to drive at all. seb let anna use the mp3 player she'd stolen a few months prior so she could listen to the news report on the radio, until the moment that it turned to static and the world felt empty.

unfortunately, it wouldn't be as easy as escaping to the country before the military could intervene. anna complained of the bite on her calf for an hour straight as they passed by people and massacres, then trees and darkness, gradually getting angrier and angrier until she was screaming at her sister to do something, anything. it wasn't until anna lunged at seb and tried to bite her that all the pieces fell into place. despite her earlier soldier-cold rationality, she pleaded with anna to listen. size and weakness and a lacking immune system didn't serve her well; the infection took hold far faster than it would to most.

seb left anna to thrash in her seatbelt while she got a handgun from the backseat, and steeled herself for what was coming. her sister didn't talk anymore, just made noises that were equal parts human and alien. in attempting to drag her from the car, anna was able to break skin by nipping at seb's wrist. focused on nothing but an end goal, she managed to put her out of that groaning, shaking misery with a bullet to the head. she made it to the country and waited for the end to come. three days later, nothing about her condition had changed.

[2014, age 14] fending for herself in the following year and a half, seb became a lonely wanderer. it wasn't until she was caught up in a group of "worshippers" as a result of her own desperation to be around other people that she came to understand some people were worse than isolation. they were kind, at first. seb thought of their 'goddess of flourish' as a joke, something to just put up with, up until it was obvious this was no laughing matter to those around her. she was an outsider, a nonbeliever, a sacrifice.

the "ritual" was little more than an excuse to torture her. much of it is foggy, but one thing that clung to her psyche was being 'unclean'. inside and out, filthy, violated. weeks on end of being prepared to do nothing but burn alive for the sake of a fairy tale. the destruction of something impure would invoke their goddess, so she was told. sorrow turned to fury with each day that passed. nonetheless, the combination of intellect and primal desire to survive allowed seb to escape her confinement undetected. the windows were barred already as precaution for the infected, so she only had to secure the doors from the outside. not to slow them down, of course. that was too kind. instead, it was to make sure not a single one of them would make it out alive when she set the place ablaze.

perhaps their impure spirits would satisfy their goddess, instead.

[late 2014-2018, age 14 to 18] since then, she traversed the wasteland alone and came to be known by those she encountered as being bizarrely friendly for someone surviving the apocalypse, though also unstable and scheming.

[major differences to note: despises physical contact (especially that which she does not initiate herself) and is more prone to unnecessary violence.]

i'm recklessly ecstatic, without a care in the world
putting on a false front / humming to myself


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