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Once meant to cure cancer and prolong life, a drug known as Type X was released worldwide to the general public. At first, a couple of months after the initial release, everything seemed to be fine and the drug seemed to be effective. People felt healthier, livelier, and even stronger after injecting the chemical. It sold quickly and in record amounts. Tylenol, ibuprofen, and general painkillers dwarfed to the capabilities of Type X. Yet, the havoc that was brewing had not been noticed until it was far too late.

Six months after Type X was released, what was thought to be a cure turned into a horrible infection. At first, the symptoms reflected that of exaggerated rabies, with foaming at the mouth and an uninfluenced rage that enticed people to attack others for no particular reason. Eight months is when the mutations began, varying from person to person, but the most common variant was the grotesque, zombified form, commonly noted as Walkers. Runners transcended from these variants and Jumpers had meshed somewhere inbetween. After a year, hope for humanity had dwindled to an extent where colonies had been formed between themselves. Governments had crashed and there was little military enforcement left to both protect and enforce prior law.

However, with what little hope the human race had left for survival, a being had been created that was giving them another chance to fight back. Before the chaos had ever started, an unknown man had created a biomechanical organism with the intent to replicate human reproductive capabilities. David Lampskey redesigned the mechanical being into the chance the human race needed for survival. Integrating the Three Laws, Lampskey had developed a new hope. A Doll. It was both a source of comfort and a source of protection, but even the first generation ran into their Achilles Heel. Without the aid of the original mastermind behind the Doll's creation, their skeletal system, or frame, had been too weak to withstand heavy amounts of trauma. So, Lampskey went through the process of reinforcing the frames and developing what came to be titled Series II Doll. Stronger, faster, and more durable than before, they too provided a new sense of hope for humanity.

Now, with the Series III, and a minimum amount of Series IV Dolls, humanity has come to a standstill. Furthermore, the ghost in machines is quite evident within these machines. With personalities, traits, and even habits, these Dolls have evolved into something more than human.














- Username:

- Name:

- Age:

- Gender:

- Appearance:

- Type: (human/doll)

- Series : (I-IV/ dolls only)

- Personality:

- Weapon: (for human's only)

- History:

- Other:






- Crawler:

- Walker:

- Runner:

- Jumper:

- Sprinter:

- Climber:

- Screamer:

- Clicker:

- Splicer:

- Dozer:

- Shredder:

- Digger:

- Ripper:

- Reaper:

- Hunter:

- Thinker:

- Bloated:

- Explosive:

- Giant:

- Behemoth:

- Alpha:

- Omega:


*These are listed from easiest to most difficult. More information will be added as the RP moves along*






- Series I:

- Series II:

- Series III:

- Series IV:

- Series V: n/a

- Series VI: n/a




MAP: (*Note: This is the Fallout 3 map, created by Bethesda Game Studios. It is being used Sheryl due to the resemblance of how I view where our setting is)

user posted image

Edited by zakku_uchiha

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((I don't have any issues. Depending on how popular this is, we could always make it a 1x1.))

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- Username:Totts

- Name:Eira Swifton

- Age: 28

- Gender:Female

- Appearance: she has white hair and brown eyes, with white teeth and pale skin

- Type: (human/doll) Human

- Series : (I-IV/ dolls only)N/A

- Personality:She was always afraid of the dolls, as she found them creepy so she is quite frightened by them but is usually quite friendly to other humans,

- Weapon: (for human's only) Katana

- History: fearing the dolls she grew up learning to use melee weapons against the infected, one day entering a dojo she found a katana and has been using it ever since.

- Other:

Edited by Totts

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You could add in a clicker, like the last of us, fungus has grown put of their heads so they are blind and they're clicking using echolocation to find you, creepy no?

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- Username: zakku_uchiha

- Name: TINA

- Age: unknown

- Gender: Female

- Appearance: TINA

- Type: (human/doll) Doll

- Series : (I-IV/ dolls only) Unknown

- Personality: Unknown

- Weapon: (for human's only) N/A

- History: Unknown

- Other:

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(Sorry >.<)


- Username: RoD

- Name: Zoey Smith

- Age: she lost count, prefes to be 25

- Gender: Female

- Appearance: Right here

- Type: Human

- Series : (I-IV/ dolls only)

- Personality: She's sweet and hardcore at the same time

- Weapon: shot gun

- History: RP'd

- Other:

Edited by Raptor of Dragons

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Username: BlueLink9001

- Name: Link (Not the legend of zelda one :3)

- Age: 17

- Gender: Male

- Appearance: Black Armour, Black armor like pants, Dark Purple cape

- Type: Human

- Series : -Is Human-

- Personality: Nice, Courageous and adventurous.

- Weapon: a Bone scythe and a large sword that is only possible to weild with two hands

- History: Was born in a zombie-infested area, Father was killed when I was only 14, I got his weaponry, which was a Scythe and a Large sword, He has trained with them and can easily kill zombies.

- Other: The armor was passed down by the Fathers of his Family

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- Username: Techno_Elf

- Name: KOHAKU

- Age: Unknown

- Gender: Female

- Appearance: This is her, but the skirt is longer, and the top reaches her waist. Ugh, this picture...I'm sorry. Also, her arms are just flesh-colored metal cyborg arms. And so are the legs.

- Type: Doll

- Series : IV

- Personality: She's very shy, and kind of naïve and childish, but she's really just a ball of energy. Or at least, that what she seems like...

- Weapon:

- History: Oh, you know, she's a regular Series IV Doll, and of course, the rest is unknown.

- Other:

Edited by Techno_Elf

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Username: Thaelasan

- Name: Dr. Alan Leonard

- Age: 28

- Gender: Male

- Appearance: Standing at roughly 5"11' and sporting a rugged beard, Alan is the very picture of the exhausted worker. He normally wears some sort of surgical clothing over a black shirt and pants. He is brown-haired and has green-blue eyes. His face is slightly regal, at least under all that dirt.

- Type: (human/doll) Human

- Series : (I-IV/ dolls only)

- Personality: Alan is a confident but rigorous man, completely dedicated to the refinement of his research. He enjoys conversation pertaining to his technology but currently isn't in much of a mood to speak to anyone. His failure has made him both depressed and anxious, worried that he may not have just ended most of civilization but perhaps the world as well.

- Weapon: Alan has developed a new sort of weapon, based upon the doll's transformation and adaptation technology. Many soldiers and researchers possess similar weaponry but Alan has perfected it (or so he likes to think. He has no idea.)

The weapon is normally a sort of shotgun which fires a blast of super-heated energy particles that are quite deadly to dolls and flesh at close range. However, when necessary, the end of the gun may be spun to fire a more focused blast until it can actually fire streams of this plasma at long-range, forming a sort of sniper rifle.

The greatest bit of this is that Alan has added a third form - a blade - to the already amazing invention. By removing the top half and screwing it onto the bottom half of the gun, the stream becomes constant, creating a sort of lightsaber.

However, like any form of energy, it is limited. To recharge his gun requires a special type of mineral known as Caldium, which is used to power dolls for a longer amount of time. Other elements can be used but Caldium lasts much longer.

Caldium is created from the refinement and difficult reaction of Uranium and a lot of alpha particles, reversing the alpha particle reaction.

This requires a lab. Alan will begin with a certain amount of Caldium (dictated by Zakku) when the roleplay begins.

- History: Alan was one of a team of six American-British collaborative scientists that were researching the element Caldium. This group made great strides in its research within a very short period of time and it was Alan who decided to finalize it and begin a control group with a medication formed by Caldium.

The rest of the story is well-known. It took several years but the Caldium began to deteriorate the brains of the subjects who imbibed it, one of which being one of the scientists himself. Worse, it was happening at a very quick pace.

By using the scientist, Dr. Richard Vance, Alan began researching a cure for Caldium while the world caved in around him, panic breaking out. Within his underground lab, he has spent a year using Richard's flesh and body fluids in order to try and obtain the source of Caldium's horrible manifestation.

The cause is something no one could have foreseen - Caldium is stable while in solid and liquid forms but something strange happens when it reaches the brain. It begins to turn into a gas, though its boiling point is far higher than that of any other chemical.

The gas begins to adhere to the veins and mass of the brain, causing blood flow to slow. As the pill is continually taken, the mass of Caldium gas that didn't leave the body finally swells a large tumor in the brain.

It gets worse. The radioactive Caldium actually begins to fuse with molecules in the brain and begin reactions that cause cancer, yet a cancer never seen before. Instead of slowly killing the person, it drives them to kill others, reducing them to carnivorous, territorial wretches.

Alan's cure was simple - to kill them. Yet though Richard's body was lost, perhaps his mind could be salvaged.

Alan performed a grotesque procedure, removing Richard's brain from his body after killing him as mercifully as possible.

Now he has come from his lab, bringing with him his most loyal doll, FIONA, and he searches for people to aid him in his culling of this menace. He still searches for a way to kill only the zombies without slaughtering all of mankind.



Username: Thaelasan

- Name: FIONA

- Age: 5 years as a doll, yet looks as though she is 26

- Gender: Female

- Appearance: A beautiful looking cybernetic creature, Fiona is well-dressed for her current situation. She wears her long black hair down to her back and looks at the world through a pair of strangely color-changing eyes. Her face is quite well-angled, almost nobility. She walks with the stride of a queen. She wears dresses whenever possible and always wears a strange sort of necklace that she doesn't allow anyone to touch. She is admittedly quite well-endowed.

- Type: A little of both, more doll than human however.

- Series : III

- Personality: She's very kind to those who talk to her and fiercely protective of those she loves. She allows no harm to come to Alan especially, holding him in high regard.

- Weapon: Same as Alan, only built into her left arm.

- History: FIONA was originally Alan's young and radiant wife while he worked upon the Caldium project. She shared his deep desire to help the human race and aided him in whatever way she could.

Upon the day of their anniversary, Alan gave Fiona a necklace which contained a shard of Caldium, telling her that their research was close to its end. The two were excited, yet all of that was soon to fall around them.

When the zombie outbreak began, Alan immediately rushed home to protect his beloved, yet he was far too late.

Upon the floor of his home was a sight he never would forget. Her mind was half gone, her body torn beyond recognition, three of those censorkip.gif***s devouring her. When they saw him, they saw pure death.

Each of them was found later with their own bodies almost completely blown to cinders. Fiona's body was gone.

Alan carried her through the mayhem, taking her back to his lab. Somehow, she was still half-alive, begging him to end her pain.

He promised her he would.

He remade her, using doll technology to restore her vital bodily functions. He gave her defensive plates to protect her, so that they would never be able to hurt her like that again.

There is always a cost. Fiona's mind was saved but her memories were gone. She remembered nothing of Alan nor of her previous life. Yet, she felt that she did still love him and still carries the necklace of their last meeting when she was still a human being.

- Other:



Edited by Thaelasan

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((Alright, let's get this started now that Thael has decided to finally make his character sheets.))


Phantom dove around a corner, keeping his finger steady on the trigger as he did so. If a shot went off now, it'd be bothersome for him and would bring about a nuisance he'd rather not deal with. A Jumper, two Walkers, a Sprinter, and a fair amount of Crawlers seemed to be on his trail most of the evening. Needless to say, he had made a ruckus earlier, sniping an unexpecting Sprinter that Phantom thought was alone. Only to find that it was far from not. Screamers, Climbers, Sprinters, and a variety of the lower forms came into motion after the round went off. It took nearly two clips to deal with them all, except for this group still after him. It was ridiculous. Luckily, he had picked off the Screamer not just ten minutes ago. Else getting away would be that much more difficult.


Taking shelter just behind a dumpster, Phantom pulled the magazine out and counted the rounds that remained. Nine. Nine rounds, plus a full thirty round magazine in his pack was all he had left and as far as he knew, he was still miles from the nearest shelter. Before he had lost his map, there was still the Divide to pass over and two miles of the Wastes to go through before reaching District 3 or Heatville. It was named this primarily due to the heat given off by the nearby plant. No one knew what was in the plant and no one wanted to find out. Last known case of someone trying to get in was concluded with his crisp remains being found half a block to the facilities South.


Sighing, Phantom peered around the corner, focusing on where the group was. Spotting them 450meters and on the opposite side of the street, Phantom scanned the area to find a cat cornered, hissing ferociously at the infected beings now swarming around it. Relieved, Phantom secured his stuff, made sure his weapon was loaded and ready, then quietly bypassed the brutes that were too distracted. Most stories depict zombies that usually pay no mind towards animals, leaving them be while they ravaged another human. This wasn't the case. Anything that moved, breathed or even made a noise were candidates. It really is a cruel world.


After putting some distance between himself and the small swarm of infected, Phantom pulled out a piece of paper, looking over it carefully and mouthing whatever script was written on it. A list. Parts he needed vs parts he had available for trade. That's what he did now. Salvaged and traded parts, typically parts to repair dolls with, but Heatville needed generator parts and anything that could cool the air just a tad. Repairing a generator was like solving 1+1, but finding air conditioners or even air conditioner parts was quite a task. Phantom would require currency for this job, especially since he found high quality pieces to use.


((Well, there's my first post. Phantom doesn't have a sheet primarily because that's how I want him to be, a mystery. No one knows him, no one knows what he does or what he did, no one even really knows what he looks like. All they know is that he's wears a black hooded trench coat, SWAT armor, black combat boots, black fingerless gloves, a gas mask, and a tactical vest. Phantom is literally supposed to be a phantom-type character. People who think they saw him, double-check and he's already gone. When he does a job, he goes in at night, does the job, then meets with the person who tasked him out to collect.))

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(( Well then, I suppose I should simply drop in? ))


Alan walked casually along the desolation that littered the road. Broken stones and ripped barbed wire shrouded the landscape.

This had once been a shelter - now it was a warning. The infected had shown no mercy to anyone within its walls, tearing them to shreds and devouring whatever meat decorated the bone. They knew only two things - to kill and to eat. They did both with brutal efficiency.

Alan had once feared the infected, yet now he slightly admired them. Rather than killing each other, as had been predicted, they seemed to follow a hive mind. They erected civilizations, if they could be called that, where they patrolled a territory, seeking any flesh that was available.

They also didn't need to eat often. Their stomachs had probably long deteriorated. Why they still ate was a mystery for anyone to solve.

All Alan knew was how to put them down and continue to move on. What they had been before - family or friends - was a lost dream.

Yet he was not here to reminisce. Instead, he knowingly stopped at a small, destroyed bunker. He bent down and rapped on a dented metal door firmly. He then waited for the response.

"Oi. What the hell?"

A voice echoed from below-ground. There was a clatter of movement and then the sound of locks rotating. Then, a small scope, quite like that of a submarine, emerged from the ground and seemed to stare at him.

A microphone from nearby then began to emit a voice after a good few minutes.

"Ok, who the hell are you and why are you here?" the voice said in an annoyed tone. "Don't you know this place is dangerous?"

"Then why are you still here?" Alan grinned.

"And who's that hot chick with you?" the voice asked casually. "If you're looking for protection, we're full."

"We both know that's a lie, Devon." Alan frowned. "That bunker you have sprawls under most of the northern city."

"I didn't say we were full of survivors." Devon said in an ominous tone. "We've had to blow up several tunnels. You can guess why."

"How'd they get in?"

"I have no ****ing idea." Devon grunted angrily. "I'm tellin' you we shut the doors tighter than a-"

He seemed about to make a very.. risqué sort of analogy but decided to forgo it.

"Look, they were shut tight." he finished. "We don't have room and that's final."

"I wasn't looking for room, though a meal wouldn't be refused." Alan said in a friendly manner. "We're looking for a certain man."

"If you're talking about that ghost censorkip.gif***, he's long gone." Devon sniffed. "He fixed up our doors - not for cheap either - and then he just left."

"Damn." Alan cursed, turning to FIONA. "Are you sure you still sense him here?"

"Negative." she retorted after a moment. "Now he's deeper in the city. He's a fast one."

"Indeed but he's one of the only elite forces in the area, if there are any left but him." Alan shrugged and checked his watch. "I'm getting tired of chasing him, however."

"Anyway, how the hell did you know my name?" Devon asked as he emerged from the bunker. He wiped himself off. "You don't look familiar."

Alan simply grabbed his own beard and gripped it tightly so that his face was visible.

"Well I'll be damned." Devon said, a little more stern. "You do know there are a lot of people who want to see you dead, right?"

"Sadly, yes." Alan agreed. "But you aren't one of them?"

"I've known you since we were kids, Alan. I know you wouldn't have done that censorkip.gif on purpose but GOD." he said, rubbing his head. "I just.. I couldn't believe it when it happened.. and to find out it had come from you.. Christ it was.. it was.."

He turned to Alan and sighed.

"You can't come in the bunker, I'm sorry." he said flatly. "And the patrol is coming back soon."

"Then we must be off." Alan replied. He turned towards the city and strode towards it, FIONA in tow.

As they approached the outskirts of the ruins, Alan could already tell there wasn't shelter here. Probably wasn't any open for two miles.

He pulled his watch out again and tapped FIONA's arm.

"We have exactly 12 hours to find him and get back to the plane." he cursed. "If we don't hurry, that thing is going to be gone."

"Indeed." FIONA replied simply. "I know of this, darling. I have an inner timer, remember?"

"Yes.. but.." he turned towards the city. "I just wish he would realize we're following him."

"Should I yell?" FIONA asked, grinning.

"Hell no." Alan smiled. "We'd have thirty of them on us and I'm not willing to waste the ammunition right now."

"True." she replied, sighing.

"Wait, which way did you say he was heading when you last took a trace?" Alan asked, pondering.

"That way." she shrugged, pointing.

Alan thought for a moment, then nodded.

"He's going for the Divide. He must be headed for the Districts sectors. If he gets there, we won't be able to get him. They'd probably shoot me on sight." he sighed. "I wish I could get them to understand I'm not the enemy."

"Well then, shall I?" she asked, picking him up.

"I suppose. Just don't use too much battery. There isn't another station for miles." he replied, checking his map.

"I would never." she smiled, and activated her feet. She began to sprint at incredible speed, heading for the last location her ping had seen Phantom at.


They had been able to find him the first time out of sheer luck, simply because his bullets made enough sound to reach FIONA's sensors. When they realized where he had been, they had simply used a tagger signal to patch onto him, fixating all of FIONA's waypoints and directives onto Phantom's position on satellite maps.

Since many of the satellites had gone down in the apocalypse, a lot of the imagery was broken and static but it was enough to track him.


"He was here." she said flatly as she stared at the dumpster.

"Quite recently." Alan said. "These bullets are still hot."

FIONA immediately perked up and stared to her left.

"He's there! He's moving fast but he's there!" she exclaimed, grabbing Alan and running for the man in black.

"YOU THERE!" she yelled, loud enough for him to hear. "WAIT!"

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Phantom's eyes shifted to the left and his head turned just slightly as he heard a female voice call out to him. Rotating his shoulders, Phantom slung his rifle onto his back, after making sure it was on SAFE and stopped walking for just a moment. Suddenly, without warning, he lunged up to the third story of the apartment complex to his right and then lunged over to the fifth story of the building opposite of the street. Breaking through the window, he landed in a room that had been ravaged and blood stained by an imminent infected raid. Empty and barren of any resources that had once been here, Phantom didn't waste time scrounging around.


Dashing through the room, he headed to the opposite side of the complex, a gaping hole where the wall had once been, probably caused by one of the Behemoths that lurked in the area. Bounding through it, Phantom landed with a thud on the ground below and watched as a few rats scurried off. Following after them, Phantom found himself on the street once again and decided to follow it to the left. A crushed bus sat in the intersection in front of him and he turned right, only to turn around and continue to follow the road he had been on. A hoard of zombies crowded the street he had tried to take and they were now following after him.


With a burst of speed, Phantom increased the distance between himself and the pursuing hoard before leaping onto an old, desolated eight-story building to his right. Driving his left arm into the brick wall, Phantom brought his legs up to his chest and launched himself upwards.


Now on the roof, Phantom continued in the direction he was facing, bounding over rooftops and climbing up taller ones in a similar fashion he had previously done. For a moment, he figured he might have lost them and distracted them with the hoard, but if they had followed him out here, there was no telling what lengths they would go to in order to catch up. So, pausing for a moment, Phantom pulled off his bag and removed his coat, selecting a standard black hoodie he had stowed away, to replace it. Lastly, he torched the old one and tossed it off the edge before heading to the East.


Finally, standing on the outskirts of the town, Phantom looked out at the desolate, barren land before him, and further out, the gash in the land left by the Omega as it had passed through the area. The Divide. Looking behind him, Phantom suspected the two who had been following were probably near and didn't waste anymore time to see if they'd show. If they truly needed him, they'd follow.

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(( Btw Zakku, a hoard is a trove of something someone has collected, or a bunch of something.

A HORDE is an actual large group of something. Such as zombies. Zombie horde. :3 ))


"Dammit!" Alan cursed. "Slow down. We won't catch him anyway."

FIONA turned off her shoes and did a pirouette, landing precisely on her right toe with great elegance. She then turned to stare at Alan, concerned, as he removed himself from her back.

"He's well-trained, I'll give him that." Alan grunted, coughing. "He has a gas mask, however. The Caldium levels in this part of the city are dangerously high. I need a moment to clear my lungs."

He walked out of the cloud of dust - which was so dense it was tangible - and sat down for a moment in wrenching pain.

FIONA, who had been refitted with purifiers to prevent such a dangerous situation, stared at him worriedly. She checked his vitals for a moment before nodding.

"It's a good thing you noticed it when you did." she replied sadly. "It was still able to be removed from your lungs."

He nodded, removing a needle from his bag. He placed it within his arm and sighed. The steroid within was made to open up his lungs and make it easier to breath, quite like with asthma. He took a deep breath.

"The Divide is treacherous. Should he attempt the crossing, he'll need to get to the Bridge." he thought for a moment. "The Bridge is a dangerous spot right now, considering the fact that a lot of the infected have decided that its a prime location to find victims. I don't know if he knows, or perhaps if he just doesn't care. What I do know is that judging by the rounds he spent.."

He picked up a smoking bullet with his gloved hands, grunting.

"He doesn't have much more to go on. He'll need to stop a moment. He knows we're following him now, sadly. That means he'll try to lose us..."

His eyes widened for a moment.

"Scan the immediate area." he commanded, removing the gun from his back.

FIONA did so, the laser from her eyes appraising every corner and even through buildings, ensuring a complete analysis.

"Oh censorkip.gif." she swore, concerned.

"He did it, didn't he. That censorkip.gif***." Alan groaned, levering the weapon so that it became long-range. "Clever son of a censorkip.gif*. I don't know what his objective is right now but I do know this."

A coat flew down, carried on the wind from much farther in front of them. Behind the coat, as it descended, was a ferocious mass of the infected, roughly twenty, that consisted of Climbers, Screamers, and even..

The creature stepped out of the middle of them - a Juggernaut, a massive hunk of flesh constructed of smaller zombies who it had killed. As some sort of survival mechanism, the Juggernaut slew weaker zombies in fits of rage and tore bits of their bodies off, placing them upon their own until they were hard and difficult to kill by normal means.

The Juggernaut pointed at them and began to emit a very loud, and very frightening, guttural roar.

"Run or fight?" FIONA asked, prepared to do either.

"What's your battery level?" Alan asked, waiting for her response. If he tried to back up now, they would all break into a sprint.

"44.3%..." FIONA responded ominously. They both knew that was far too low to run from a Juggernaut. They were ridiculously nimble for their size, having originally been Climbers before becoming abominations. They were also persistent and never left a kill behind. They would find you and they would kill you, sooner or later.

Alan sighed and knew what had to be done. He levered the rifle as the Juggernaut began to approach, telling his horde to back down. He would have the first kill.

He squeezed the trigger and heard the familiar hum as particles began to heat up, charging up for a massive blast. He knew this shot would deplete more than half of his full clip but hopefully if it was enough...

The Juggernaut was mere feet away now, taking his time, licking lips made from the mouths of twenty other infected. Five eyes stared from the depths of its horrific face.

Alan fired.

A blast of superheated energy focused itself entirely on the Juggernaut's upper half, incinerating it almost instantly. Some of the energy even killed two of the zombies behind the monstrosity.

For a long moment, the only sound was the smoke of Alan's gun. He had to hope, he had to pray.

The zombies did what he had hoped. Upon seeing their leader slain in battle, they turned and fled, forgetting they had superior numbers. Their screeches of anger rang out throughout the city.

"They'll try to find us again." Alan turned to FIONA, forlorn. "We have to hurry and find him."

He and his beloved ran off from the corpse as it lay, still smoking, upon the unholy ground of the broken city.




Alan's Log: Number 12. 5/16/2742.

My beloved FIONA and I have just managed to escape from the broken ruins of Hope, in Sector four. The irony of it was not lost on me. In fact, it hit quite brutally.

The infected are doing as I predicted: as summer begins to set in, the heat causes the Caldium in their minds to reach greater strength, causing them to become more vicious and intelligent. I would not be out here during this month if it were not for a very important directive that I'm trying to accomplish.

In the last log, I spoke of a broken plane, located off the edge of Sector four. This plane is in almost working condition but it requires a few more parts in order to be able to fly. With a plane at our disposal, I may be able to broadcast a signal in order to alert the people of the Districts of my dire plight, as well as try to find new members willing to aid in my fight for a cure.

They still believe that I poisoned them for my own dark gains. I did not. I will always refuse that. Every day I am haunted for my failure and I see the faces of those I cursed. I must atone for my sin by helping mankind to survive in this war for existence.

In any case, the parts I require for the plane are the ones that take the most work to gather. I have heard tell of a scavenger, Phantom, who is rumored to be many things. He has been spoken of as a devil who works with the infected, or as a dark shadow hunting for vengeance against some forgotten sin. He is most known as a capable combat veteran who is highly skilled in both survival and mechanics. Though I am better suited for weapons technology and medical advancement, I require one such as him in order to perfect my survival party.

My hope is that he shall accept my modifications to his weapon - perhaps even forge it into one such as mine - if he helps me to rebuild this aircraft.

There is a catch however. As fate would have it, a bombing run is being made on Sector Four, since it has been deemed "unsalvageable" by the fragments of the former military. The plane will be destroyed in the explosions if we cannot recover it soon. We have now roughly eleven hours before the run begins.

I cannot let this chance slip through my fingers. I am already on Phantom's trail. He is heading for the dangerous Divide, made even moreso by the summer weather.

I must find a way to either get him or communicate with him without alerting the horde. If only I knew his radio frequency, if he has one...

We did manage to grab his coat in our flight. We shall return it should we find him. We have searched it extensively with no benefit. It is a normal, disposable jacket, another piece in his disguise.

In any case, I shall end this transmission here. FIONA is pointing at something up ahead.

- End of Log: Number 12.




"It's a van." FIONA said nonchalantly. "A big one too."

"Is it inhabited?" Alan pulled out his binoculars, trying to see it through the thick cloud of sand and debris.

Ever since the creation of the Divide, the natural winds pulled pounds of dust and grit out of the chasm over the months, spreading it out over the surrounding landscape. It had now taken on the title "The Wastes" by normal dwellers and was a foolish place to try and set up camp. Not only had the winds only gotten worse, the zombies enjoyed using the winds to ambush unsuspecting travelers. Their remains still dotted the unforgiving landscape.

"Doesn't look like it." Alan shrugged. They quietly moved towards the van and peeked within.

A skeleton stared at them from inside. Well, perhaps skeleton was far too simple. It was more of a ruined mass of living flesh and yellowed bone, the entire leather seat spattered with blood and hair. A single eye still held its place in a ruined socket.

The eye fell out, slightly shaking Alan as he watched.

"That's absolutely nasty." he finally said after throwing up.

"Perhaps." FIONA cocked an eyebrow. "I can't smell it from over here."

"You don't want to." he promised, close to retching again.

"Probably not. Stand back, I'll remove it from the vehicle so it may be used."

She simply grabbed the decaying remains and threw them out of the window unceremoniously from her side and then wiped her hands clean. She then stared at the few pieces of rotted flesh and blood that remained.

"I'd drive but I'm not getting blood on this dress." she stated firmly. "It's one of the only three I have."

"Well don't expect me to do it either, woman!" he smiled. "Even a man in an apocalypse has SOME standards. We simply have to remove the leather."

With a bit of work, they did so. Alan sat down in the chair and adjusted himself slightly.

"A bit uncomfortable in the butt.." he explained. "But I suppose it will do. Which way did Phantom go?"

"He's still close. This van will aid in the chase." she grinned.

Wires extended themselves from her arm, plugging each prong into a certain part of the car's interior.

"The car has minimal damage to its exterior aside from a broken window. The fuel level is still very high, which is surprising. It's actually pretty brand new, if we could call it that. It even offers the fingerprint ignition."

"****." Alan sighed. He looked off into the distance.

"Get his finger?" she asked.

"Get his finger. Please." he replied, placing his hand upon his face.


She soon returned with the appropriate appendage, which was still in surprisingly good condition considering what it had just been through. Alan immediately reset the fingerprint scanner with the other man's finger so that it also allowed his fingers to activate it. He didn't want to have to keep that finger any longer than he had to.

Once he was sure it was set, he chucked it out the window, smiling.

"Alright then. Which way?" he asked, revving the engine up.

"That way." she leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes. "The battery in this car is well-charged. If you don't mind..."

"Not at all. Drain it if you need." he said calmly, turning the wheel.

The two began to move again - much faster - in the direction of the bridge.


Soon, Alan saw something in the distance. Was it a person, or an infected? He needed a closer look.

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Phantom had wrapped a scarf around himself as he traversed through the wastes, minimalizing the amount of dust entering the filter in his mask. Wind had picked up since he had entered, spraying dust all in the air, so standard visual was becoming difficult. With his right eye now becoming his main sense of sight, Phantom thoroughly scanned the area, knowing all too well he wasn't alone out here. Their sight would be just as clouded, but that's why Clickers were the prominent species residing in this area.


That's when his sensors picked it up, the sound of an engine. This wasn't good. Glancing around, Phantom's sensors started going haywire. Clickers were beginning to pick up the strum of the motor, a sound now foreign to most of these abominations. So, laying down, Phantom knew his best bet was to remain absolutely still while the Clickers grew more active.


((Short post now.))

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((Okay, lets just say that Eira is in the same place as and is lying down, but hasn't met anyone yet))


Shoot, clickers infest this area, about 15 by my hearing,maybe more, What idiot would drive into a fogged up area full of clickers? I look over and see a figure lying on the ground, I feel tempted to say hello, but of course clickers, suddenly one is right behind me, I can hear it, slowly shuffling so I face the clicker I take one huge lunge at the clicker and plunge my katana right through it's head, I hope I find a way out soon, Great, some of the clickers have heard me I'm going to have to kill them all, here we go!

Edited by Totts

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