An interactive story by @josru
DEMO TBA | CHARACTER INTROS
Not a soul has been seen navigating North America's metropolitan landscapes in years.
The undead are considered soulless, anyways.
In the late 2040s, zombies have overtaken the greater part of North America. You live on the outskirts of San Francisco, in an old, beat-up, secondhand Volkswagen Minibus. Also known as a Kombi (not sponsored). You're basically living #vanlife, if you knew what that meant.
You've been alone for as long as you can remember. Your elderly parent is long gone, leaving you woefully unprepared for the reality of this world, where loneliness seems to be just as crucial of a need as hunger. You have yet to meet another person, let alone one you're sure can be your ally.Â
You struggle to understand the reason why everything has been left so desolate. Not a single person out there, other than glaring, shrieking, creatures of death, who see you as nothing more than dinner. Youâve never known their true originâ just that one bite, down to your bloodstream, would turn you into them.
 Your mind constantly wanders between theories, mindless, rambling run-on ideas you tell yourself, so as not to go crazy in isolation. Perhaps some long-ago king purchased all the land, and left nothing for the peasantry, who then cannibalized each otherâ thatâs a funny idea that you picked up from a childrenâs book.
You canât stay holed up in this van forever, as safe as it might feel. Furnished with a proper, upholstered bed in the back, a washroom with a working toilet, sink and shower (provided there is rainwater), cabinets with assortments of canned foods and dried meats. Musty old seats. Itâs comforting, but itâs dangerousâ the last thing your parent made sure you knew was that this world was unforgiving to people who didnât take the necessary risks.
Play as male, female or NB/GNC.
Choose your hunting level. Pick between amateur, alright, and advanced.
Romance one of four potential options (or keep them as friends, adversaries, or enemies, depending on your choices)
Discover what happened to the world, causing it to be filled with the undead, by traversing to the city.
Find out about the first owner of your Kombi. (#??? videos found so far.)
Navigate conspiracies about a local settlement that seems too friendly.
â...Fine. But donât say I didnât warn you.â
A mid-thirties, quiet, skeptical Thai-American man, How Ngam hates everyone and everything that's happened to him. He's the previous (read: not the first) owner of the Kombi- imagine his surprise when he stumbles upon you, living in a place he was sure he left locked and empty, meant to be one of his camps for personal solitude.
Heâs done everything right. Keeps on top of his daily supply runs, manages to feed his often unseen cat (that appears to be MIA, according to you), and yetâ hereâs another person that probably needs his help. You.
You better stay out of his way. How doesnât have time to support anyone, not when people slip by so quickly. Better not to get attached.
He isn't the easiest to talk to, but his bristly attitude has its purpose in this world. He's discovered a lot about the city, the old broken down buildings of San Francisco that carry a lot of information about the prior inhabitants before everything went to shit. How could take you there, but he's protective to a fault, especially of those he cares about, not that that includes you. Or that it could.
Appearance: Tan-olive skin, deep-set eyes with wrinkles and dark circles, wide nose, prominent lips, shaggy, ear-length black hair, brown eyes, and stubble/mustache going on. About 5'8", fairly lean, some muscle.
He's usually wearing a hand-me down, dark green jacket, and a copper-toned beanie. Heavy worker boots. Non-descript pants and shirt.
âKnow thyself, right?â
A late twenties, Half-Irish woman, Dylan is always searching for a greater purpose. She's scared, but determined to find herself in the midst of the apocalypse. You could worry that she's read too many self-help books, but she wants to know herself. Even if she can be a bit harsh about it. So sheâs come out into the greater forests of San Francisco for the very first time.
Dylan needs a lot of vocal validation. She wants more than anything to be caring, to prove to others that she's not a bad person.Â
She lives in a well furnished, religiously-inclined settlement, the Providence & Assets Authority (PAA), where a lack of resources seems to never be an issue. As long as you play your part, youâre set for life. The guilt of being there, when everyone else is suffering, eats at her.
Dylan wants more than anything to be someone else, someone newâ something that wasnât decided for her by a group of elders who seek to mind their people from âbad ideas.â You can hardly relate, (something sheâs deeply jealous of), but you could comfort her if you wished.
Appearance: Pale, warm toned, freckly-orange skin, hooked nose, sharply defined, thinner lips, deep red long hair past her shoulders, (basically think of a tomato), green wide eyes. About 5'6", very skinny, long runner legs with muscular calves.
Despite the cold of San Francisco, Dylan runs hot and wears jean shorts, cropped shirts, or athleisure like hoodies and leggings.
He's a zombie. Gloor's skin is a pallid green-blue, with splotches of beige that reminds you he was human at one point. There are chunks of skin and flesh missing from his body, but he persists on, in the way the undead always do.
He can barely hold a fully fledged sentence with you, but you can tell he doesn't mean any harm. There's something lifelike in his eyes as he stares at you, a strong purpose held in his pupils, untouched by the typical fog that zombies carry. It's even more obvious in the way he seems to still have fine motor skills: he's capable of writing a few letters for you, if you want him to. You notice heâs got an incredibly fancy signature.
Gloor, bless him, is always trying to explain something to you. Heâs desperate to let someone, anyone, know something about his pastâ itâs just a matter of remembering what it was. He just requests that youâre patient, because people are often quite cruel to him.
Appearance: Green-blue skin, brownish-grey hair that's mostly all fallen out, brown eyes. No nose, lips receding. 6'2", surprisingly wide in the middle due to his ribcage.
He's wearing an old, dilapidated suit, and a wrinkly dress shirt, and torn up pants.
âJust sit and chill with me, dude.â
Named after Saint Alia of the Knife, Alia is a mid-thirties, black woman that absolutely adores pop culture and trivia. She's a massive, optimistic nerd, and maybe one that's a bit obsolete in this current time- nobody really cares to get into escapist fantasies the way she does.
Either way, she's got a cabin filled with comics, old video games, and DVDs, where she spends her days locked up, until she has to acquire resources at some point. You wonder where and how she's collected so much paraphernalia, and mainly why- and she's willing to share that with you if you don't judge her. She wants more than anything to make a friend, to be with people again.Â
Despite all of that, you get the sense that sheâs hiding something. Alia knows more about this world than she lets onâ she even knows the old protestor jargon, the one that your parent told you was bullshit.
The undead are considered soulless, but theyâre not.
Appearance: Deep cool toned skin, natural loose afro to about the end of her neck, brown eyes, slight smile lines, prominent lips, straight nose. 5'3", pear shaped, hourglass body.
She wears billowy, silky tops, and well structured cargo pants. She wears a lot of jewelry like rings, bangles, and earrings.
