This takes place months after a disease causes a zombie apocalypse scenario. The zombies in this RP are semi-aggressive but don't wander around seeking out humans to kill like in some zombie stories. In this roleplay living humans tend to be more dangerous than the undead. Anyone can join My character- Name- Essa Age- 18 Gender- Female _____________________________________________ 2035- 6 months after the apocalypse- Once these streets would have been bustling with life this time of night, groups of drunken men and women stumbling out of the bars and nightclubs that lined the street, people stepping into the road to stop taxis and clutching their jackets tight about them as the wind blew. The faint pounding of music playing inside many of the buildings, the laughter of the people crowding the streets and the screeching of car tires would have formed a pleasant sort of cacophony, filling the night sky. Now there was nothing to be heard but the squeaking of a few rats and the thud of a young woman’s steel toed boot as she made a halfhearted attempt at kicking down the side door of one of those previously crowded but now abandoned and run down clubs. She remembered how the glowing signs of the night clubs had been some of the last lights to go out when disease had taken over and turned most of the population into undead monsters, how people had continued to come to this part of the city even as others were trying to evacuate and millions were dying, many of those millions then coming back to a sick parody of life. The lights had finally gone out, though, and now most everyone was dead or undead. The young redheaded teen hadn’t seen another living person in the past two months that she’d been hiding in a musty but safe- and free of dead bodies- basement nearby. She’d run out of food a week ago and was now tentatively venturing out into the world again, a knife tucked into the pocket of her jacket in case she encountered someone sick or dangerous. A few months was all it had taken for all order to be lost in the world, many of the sick wandering around lost, even more of the healthy killing the sick. Some people would encounter someone else and hurt or kill them whether they knew the stranger was ill or not, either not wanting to take chances or harming and robbing people for the fun of it now that anyone that might have arrested them was dead. Groups of aggressive or scared survivors grew in power and the undead wandered the street, sometimes attacking; leaving whatever safe place you might have found was akin to a suicide mission now. But she needed supplies and so far hadn’t encountered anyone, dead or not. With a firmer kick, the door to the club opened with a loud clang that made her wince, standing uncertainly in the entryway of a room too dark to see inside.