[Please note this RP is for zombies and humans alike. Its not particularly supposed to be a fighting RP, though if that happens whatever (Cali is a little too depressed to be trying to nom on anyone). Its more like an ohshit first zombie Apocalypse and now the sky is black, etc)


Calintha didn't quite know what to do anymore. She'd a day moping around her greenhouse before getting so frustrated that she broken a table. Figuring that it would be more productive to go on a walk, the blonde zombie shoved her serrated trowel into her belt like a makeshift sword. Taking the familiar path, now slightly ravaged by the storm of zombies and humans trampling through it, she walked straight to the school (carefully avoiding the heavily barricaded area were she had killed Evie).

Many buildings were in shambles, the dorms were almost completely burnt to the ground with a few rooms still standing here and there. She decided to walk near the buildings in the center- a cluster of old looking buildings that included the main offices, art building, and the math and science wings. Maybe if she couldn't find anyone to talk to she could at least find something interesting to play with. Chemicals or art supplies or something.

About halfway up to the building the world around her started to darken. Confused, Calintha whipped her head around, trying to figure out if it was just her eyesight starting to rot away (ew!), or some other force.

Thankfully (or not so thankfully) that just happened to be the case. A purple-blackish bubble was forming over the sky. "What? What the hell?" First she had died in a fire. Then she had been brought back to this sorry existence and had been battered with bricks, tennis rackets, and lead pipes. The fact that she had been left sentiment was cruel and it tormented her every ******** waking moment (which was, you know, all the time she wasn't beaten into blackouts).

Her broken body stopped and she stared up at the sky, vaguely aware that the motion had popped one of her broken ribs through the skin, so that a bump was visible underneath her shirt. At least the bastards who had made her this way had the good mercy to make sure her nerves and pain receptors had died with her heart.