Whovian
If music be the food of love, play on.
Plot
My mother use to tell me that people use to dance. Maybe they did, but that was before 2319 BA. Before people's first instinct was to kill. It all started when the incurable was cured, death. The scientists found a way for our cells to recreate themselves into newer, younger ones. For a few years, people prospered in the new found happiness of never aging. That's where the dancing came in.
The happiness didn't last though. Patient Zero was born on a humid, still afternoon. He started with symptoms of a cold, leaving scientist baffled. Eventually the patient seized. When he woke up, his pupils were gone. The only thing left of his eyes was a white blank canvas. No longer was the man who fathered four boys, but a crazed man who was bent on killing. Eventually, everyone who took the treatment had the same symptoms. Most the world went crazy, and all organized government fell apart at it's seams. The Crazies attacked each other and the innocent. The World died that day.
With ninety-five percent of the population crazy, the normal are left to fend for themselves. Will you survive, or will the ones you use to call family and friend be the death of you? Will we find a cure, or will the human population eventually die out?
Rules
Our World
My mother use to tell me that people use to dance. Maybe they did, but that was before 2319 BA. Before people's first instinct was to kill. It all started when the incurable was cured, death. The scientists found a way for our cells to recreate themselves into newer, younger ones. For a few years, people prospered in the new found happiness of never aging. That's where the dancing came in.
The happiness didn't last though. Patient Zero was born on a humid, still afternoon. He started with symptoms of a cold, leaving scientist baffled. Eventually the patient seized. When he woke up, his pupils were gone. The only thing left of his eyes was a white blank canvas. No longer was the man who fathered four boys, but a crazed man who was bent on killing. Eventually, everyone who took the treatment had the same symptoms. Most the world went crazy, and all organized government fell apart at it's seams. The Crazies attacked each other and the innocent. The World died that day.
With ninety-five percent of the population crazy, the normal are left to fend for themselves. Will you survive, or will the ones you use to call family and friend be the death of you? Will we find a cure, or will the human population eventually die out?
Rules
- The RPnation rules apply.
- Keep genders even.
- You can have up to 5 characters.
- No one liners or text chat. I realize we all make small grammar and spelling mistakes.
Our World
