M.J. Saulnier
Semi-Retired User
Chronicle Z
The Great Canadian Survival Story
I'm looking for talented, high concept writers who can hold their own and are comfortable doing their own thing a while, really establishing a character(s) for a high quality project I've been working on the last year.
The concept is character driven post-Apoc Zombie survival which follows a multitude of characters across North America, primarily in Canada.
The characters are not all together, or even close. They are not directly inbound for one another. In other words, I don't want characters itching to find each other and actively working toward a quicker crossing of paths. This is so important. Those moments when we meet are supposed to be hallowed... epic moments built up by pages worth of personal growth and development. Highly anticipated, engrossing moments worth every minute of solo time clocked in.
Not all will stick together, or even be friends... But some may cross paths again.
Obviously we're working toward a solid plot, but it cannot be forced, at all. By forcing the progress we lose the concept and esteem I'm looking for.
Solutions can exist and I've already prepared for the people who primarily RP for CI&AP (Character Interaction & Adaptive Play). There will be a large group of survivors actively depicted from the beginning. Among them will be two of my characters, and you have the option of playing as one or more of them.
My "main characters", however, will be putting in some hardcore solo time.
John is a lone survivor who has been trekking the desolate wastelands for the decade this undead crisis has been going on. He is a predator. Anti-social and an extreme survivalist. He trusts, speaks to, and assists no one. If they are lucky, he'll remain hidden and let them pass by. If you look as though you've got something he needs, you'll never have known he was there.
John stumbles upon three very young Japanese girls in the ruins of Barrie, Ontario. They are filthy, emaciated and frightened.
Hitomi (13), Kiyomi (7), and Reiko (5), are survivors of a daring escape from a stronghold ruled by sickening thugs. Their mother Mia lost her life ensuring they escaped their grim, horrifying fate. Her death has left them alone in the waste, unable to protect or sustain themselves.
Against everything he's taught himself to survive, he takes on the 3 silent, dough-eyed girls.
Ray is the man who paid a pretty penny for three authentic Japanese girls to raise as his slaves, and their aging mother. He will come for his 'property' as the story progresses.
Important info about my post-Apoc vision of the world:
The government was overtaken by the military very early on. They have established "Settlements" in key cities and areas. They are walled off and heavily fortified. They are entirely self-sustaining. So to be even more clear, they don't do supply runs (rarely, and when they do, they kill ANYTHING that moves, dead or alive.) they risk no contamination or failure... That means you can be Lieutenant Colonel GI Joe, and you'd be cut down for stepping within 50 feet of ANY Settlement in North America. It's a closed system, that will only work if it remains closed.
They've written it all off, because there is no hope.
A bit more. About the wasteland and "Strongholds".
(From my story, 'Dead Frontier')
Most of the vehicles that sat around the streets had long since been syphoned of any fuel left in the tank. Virtually every gas station and small pump was bone dry. Truth was, the majority of resources of any kind had been looted weeks, months, or even years ago. Finding almost anything of use or value had become comparable to a small miracle. Barter was the new scavenging. Old world currency was useless now; material for fires, or wiping one's ass, should the necessity present itself. The economic system had reverted back to the days of old. Now people traded commodities for other commodities. Gasoline for ammunition. Food for water. Batteries for medical supplies. Weapons for weapons. You had to hustle now, and you had to have something of value, something your mark wanted or needed in exchange for the commodity you were after. Water, food, medical supplies, and ammunition were the most valuable items one could possess. Water was the new diamond. Food, the new gold. Drop a bottle of mountain water on the table, and just about anyone will cave in to your demands. Water is the one thing you need, no matter what the scenario unfolds to look like. Given that fact, you could never have enough clean drinking water. You could be sitting on a warehouse filled to capacity with jugs of pure H2O, and you'd still need more... just to be damn sure you had enough.
When it came to water, the smart people weren't messing around. It was among the leading contributing factors in human on human casualties since the undead crisis.
There were very few strongholds, and none that were anything close to what you'd expect. Owen likened the experience to what he imagined prison must be like. Filthy, poor living conditions. Shady, sketchy characters you couldn't trust, let alone depend on to have your back if shit hit the fan. People rolled in tiny circles, usually built on a system of history and seniority. Those circles covertly plotted against each other, and violence was a routine thing. People killed each other on a daily basis over personal bullshit, accusations of theft, or any other reason one could scrounge up. It was a chaotic and dangerous environment. Owen had come to realize and accept that fact fairly quickly. There was no hope, safety or comfort in the strongholds. They were lawless wastelands, the old west of the new apocalypse.
The zombies are science-based. There is no cure, anywhere in the world. You can't cure dead. Best we can hope for long-term is a vaccine for the living so you stay down when you die (between us writers, U.S. & Canadian Military has it already, but this will NEVER reach IC as it stands).
Mobility and speed depends on the condition of the corpse; muscle and brain tissue!*
Everyone is a zombie waiting to happen... When you die, you turn. Bites and scratches DO NOT TURN YOU. Blood-blood contamination will make you sick and lead to your death, and thus turning.
I can't think of anything else you should know at this juncture.
*deep, calming breath*
Anyone want to do the Zombie genre justice?
I wasn't ready... I didn't sign on for that, but it was incredible.
