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Empathy Apocalypse


Sarah_1964
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A virus destroys empathy, leaving humans fully functional but lacking the capacity to feel for or be considerate of others beyond their own small social circle. Wider society, trade, and global infrastructure collapse as cities decay into tribal ghettos and villages become inward looking and selfish. Outsiders are treated with suspicion, hostility, or exploited and used to serve the needs - and desires - of those within their small isolated communities.

A few are immune to the virus but are hunted down by the 'zombies', out of hostility, for slaves, or for sport or instant gratification. Legends persist of a society of the immune, far in the west, rebuilding a world more outward looking and welcoming other survivors. But the legends are vague, and the world a hostile and barren place to embark on a journey.

Players would start each isolated, on a quest to find the immune survivor oasis: meeting others and suffering adventures, on their way, each relating their own story as they progress, linking up as and when they meet on their quests.

This would be a set of parallel and eventually intertwining personal accounts, probably in first person, developing a coherent narrative as play progresses.

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Poll Dancer

Gangsta's Moll with attitude.


Skills: bare knuckle (and often bare bodied) dance fighting.


Great team player, good in a group.


Endurance: can take on ten men at once and still cum out on top.


Speed: the very definition of a fast woman.

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The trail is cold, long forgotten: but the legends are not.

They came this way, and they were survivors: lost, maybe, but not forgotten.

The dust drifts across the trail, the Sun beats down, my bare arms and legs are coated with it's fine grey dirt: but I know where they went, and I am following....

Where I come from, everything is lost: the hope that sprung from despair, the resistance: all gone, lost, defeated, destroyed. Nothing remains: only the legends - those who went East. So east I trudge, into the morning sun. Eyes watch but I no longer care: I can outrun them and they know that so an uneasy truce holds - born of mutual exhaustion, of weariness, of despair: apocalypse, now and forever?

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My character: sonali singh

Name: Sonali Singh

Gender: female

Age: 22 years

Sexuality: Homosexual (But being a pure virgin hasn't realized it completely but has inclination towards girls)

Profession: Sniper, Merc

Weapons:7.62 Dragunov SVD, 9mm pistol sidearm

Bio: Daughter of  a wealthy but ignorant couple from North India. Raised in a boarding school by nuns. Later joined Army too young and trained first by Nepalese Gurkhas and then by Indian special forces.  Very disciplined, light and small by body but very agile and strong at core, Sharp minded, skilled well in marksmanship, camouflage, tactical maneuvers and small arms operation and maintenance. Was court marshaled  in first year of service, so left India and became a mercenary.

Cool as ice in handling weapons but nervous and anxious in dealing socially with people. 

34a 28 34, 5'5", 52kgs, black long hair lower then shoulders but little short of waist ties usually in a bun under beret cap. black childish eyes, wheatish complexion.  small body frame.

Lost the last merc job and due to epidemic surviving on her own.

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