Boston, June, 2018

It's been one hundred and twenty-four days since The Outbreak, but who's counting?

Everything happened so fast. No one knows exactly how or why the Terminus virus was released, or who pulled the trigger on the proverbial gun, but within weeks most of the world's population was gone. Not everyone died. Most that did rose immediately after, filling our streets with ravenous nightmares. We were so unprepared. No one knew what to call them or how to deal with them, and not all the methods devised in a hurry worked long term. They say everyone carries the virus inside them, even those that were seemingly immune to the airborne form. They say in some places, the animals are changing now, that the virus adapted to affect the animal kingdom, but instead of killing them it mutated them, made them faster, stronger, smarter. They say the more the animals feed on dead human flesh, the more powerful they get, so now we burn the bodies we drop.

They say a lot of things, though.

Survivors roam dead countryside and brave the dangers of the cities to resupply, their only goal to survive. Keep moving, stay vigilant, be smart. We fight the rambling dead, we fight the mutated animals, but we fight each other, too. There are no laws anymore, no judge or jury, no one to reign us in and keep us civil. Fear rules the world now. Fear of the dead, and fear of the living. It's kill or be killed, trust no one, watch your own back, and for those few that still retain some kind of humanity or moral compass, it's even harder to keep living.

…No, not living. It's not living. It's enduring.

But I refuse to just…survive. I don't have a solid plan, I don't have any idea how I'm going to get to Michigan and I have no idea exactly what I'm going to do (or what I'm going to find) when I get there. But I know it's up to me to fix this. After all…

I know who ended the world.

I know why it happened.

I know where the cure is.

And I'm going to fix it. I'm going to fix…everything.

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I might be the guide, but I'm not the god. Feel free to throw your own flavors into the pot, my friends. I intend to make this life a living hell for all of us. No mercy, no solid plans. I do have a skeletal plot in my head to help us with direction, but I'm always up for shifting things around. Share ideas here! I know we have the FaceBook chat, so this place is more of an extra foundation for our little world. But feel free to use it accordingly.

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This Role Play is currently: CLOSED
(but feel free to read and post your fangirling all over our OOC!)

The real world but like the Walking Dead the Zombie craze never happened and the word zombie isn't a thing that people say.


Our story takes place on the road between Boston, Massachusetts and Flint, Michigan.


I'm thinking a bio-weapon (not to get political) that caused a plague of sorts and ended up killing a significant portion of the world's population, some people were immune, some people survived the sickness, most people who died came back, some didn't.


People who were immune to the airborne disease are still susceptible to bites and blood born infection. If infected blood gets into your system you become a carrier of the virus, it won't kill you but you can spread it to others. Bites will kill you because of the septic infection they cause but you may or may not come back (though it is more than likely that you will). People who survived the sickness are carriers and can spread it to other people.


The "zombies" come in a wide variety. The newer the zombie the faster they can move, the harder they are to kill because of the lack of decay. The older, the slower and easier to kill. The weather does affect them in predictable ways, i.e. hotter it is outside the more they stink, the colder the slower they move, strong winds will destabilize them, and so on. They are not the "smart kind," they can't talk or formulate plans but they can see, smell, and hear you and these things attract them. They can make noise, but the older they get and more they decay their vocal cords will deteriorate and the noise they make will be mostly their own bumbling and stumbling.


Completely destroying the brain is the only way to put them down permanently. You can disable the dead in a number of ways, like severing the spinal cord which would shut down the body or shooting out kneecaps causing the dead to be unable to walk.


In this universe Zombie culture never happened, the word zombie just doesn't exist. So what do we call the dead? Whatever we can think of to describe them.


Each post takes place in real-time, conversations and events begin the day and time of the first post and remain one time regardless of how long it takes to finish, example a post on Monday at 7am that begins an event where posting lasts until Thursday at 11pm that entire time is considered to be Monday morning around 7am, however an unrelated post immediately after would pick up in real time i.e. Thursday at 11pm.