conversations.from: system
conversations.value: United Kingdom, three years P.Z.A - that's Post Zombie Apocalypse for those of you living under a rock. It started as a new sickness that broke out in the slums of Russia - a fever at first, followed by twitching, necrotic wounds, and violence. At first no one realized the victims were _dead_ to all intents and purposes by the time they started twitch. Someone tried to say it was drugs, some new kind of Krocodil. Some said it was a new kind of Saint Vitus Dance, brought on by some virus that came out of the melting permafrost up north. 
  
  Then whatever it was, everyone started to get it. Spread though tourism and travel down through Europe and Africa, simultaneously across to the Americas, and around to the Pacific Rim; it was everywhere within weeks.
  
  It seems to me in those early days sometimes, some people survived with enough antivirals. Or was it antibiotics? Sulpha drugs? I don't know if that was bullshit of if we just ran out of meds but ...eventually they ran out of places to keep the victims who didn't recover, the people whose life signs all ran to zero but who kept twitching and stumbling and biting. They called them Zero's. Z's. Zeds.
  
  The WHO tried to fight it but it spread too fast. Quarantines just made people lie about where they were coming from, what they were sick with. 
  
  I don't know if everywhere got hit as hard as we did. We lost contact with the outside world pretty quick after the London quarantine disaster  - but I don't really care what's going on outside our islands anymore. All I know is we're alone. Left for Zed.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: This Survivor might have been an EMT, veterinarian, medical student, drug dealer, or an old family doctor in the years BZ (Before Zed) but whatever the training, it didn't prepare him/her for the Zombpocalypse. Most of his/her patients don't care - they're just happy to have someone  who knows how to stop the bleeding.  
conversations.prefix: The Doctor:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A high school althetics star of the wholesome, good- natured kind who's got good grades, never met a sport s/he didn't like and only has eyes for one guy/girl at a time. He/she might not have combat training, but this Survivor has lasted so long because s/he knows how to move. 
conversations.prefix: The Athelete:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: In the days before the Zombpocalypse this Survivor might have been in the police, or the military, or perhaps they picked up their skills after the fall of society. Wherever they were trained, the Kickass knows weapons, knows bodies, and knows how to use one to destroy the other with efficiency. It's nothing personal.
conversations.prefix: The Kickass:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: God knows what this Survivor did before the Zombpocalypse, but you'd probably have crossed the street to avoid him/her. Now thank God s/he's on your side, because when the chips are down, s/he really knows how to survive like all the other rats and cockroaches. In a way s/he's been living an apocalypse his/her whole life.
conversations.prefix: The Low Life (copy):
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: This is your special weapon. It's your signature. It might be a baseball bat covered in spikes, it might be a hand tooled silver revolver, a killer attack Chihuahua, or a crossbow you inherited from your dead uncle, but it's yours, it's cool, and you'd never go anywhere without it.
conversations.prefix: Meet Precious:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: God knows what this Survivor did before the Zombpocalypse, but you'd probably have crossed the street to avoid him/her. Now thank God s/he's on your side, because when the chips are down, s/he really knows how to survive like all the other rats and cockroaches. In a way s/he's been living an apocalypse his/her whole life.
conversations.prefix: The Low Life:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: God knows how this one survived this long. Perhaps s/he was kept safe in a secret hideout until now, or perhaps there's something inherent about his/her personality but this Survivor hasn't been touched by the full horror of the Zombpocalypse. Yet. 
conversations.prefix: The Innocent:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A grease monkey, an ex-engineer, or just handy, this Survivor always has an idea brewing to tweak the traps by the door, convert that old bus into a fortress, or fix up that generator once and for all. While s/he might not always have the resources or skills to get it done, s/he's survived this long because s/he's always got an idea.
conversations.prefix: The Tech Support:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A shotgun. Nothing fancy but it works!
conversations.prefix: Zombie Zombie Bang Bang:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: It might not be what you used to pick up after a night's drinking back in the day but eating the fruits of Abe's fancy mouse collection has become the new normal.
conversations.prefix: Mouse Wrap:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A long barrelled rifle, clean and well cared for, with enough amunition for a scene. 
conversations.prefix: Zombie! Get your gun!:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Basically Shane
conversations.prefix: The Bad Apple:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: It could be neat, it could be messy, but you never walk away from a corpse that could rise again. Let others get ganked from behind - you always make sure the dead STAY that way.
conversations.prefix: Double Tap:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A high school athletics star of the wholesome, good- natured kind who's got good grades, never met a sport s/he didn't like and only has eyes for one guy/girl at a time. He/she might not have combat training, but this Survivor has lasted so long because s/he knows how to move. 
conversations.prefix: The Athlete:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: This Survivor might have been an EMT, veterinarian, medical student, drug dealer, or an old family doctor in the years BZ (Before Zed) but whatever the training, it didn't prepare him/her for the Zombpocalypse. Most of his/her patients don't care - they're just happy to have someone  who knows how to stop the bleeding.  
conversations.prefix: The Doctor:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: God knows how this one survived this long. Perhaps s/he was kept safe in a secret hideout until now, or perhaps there's something inherent about his/her personality but this Survivor hasn't been touched by the full horror of the Zombpocalypse. Yet. 
conversations.prefix: The Innocent:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: In the days before the Zombpocalypse this Survivor might have been in the police, or the military, or perhaps they picked up their skills after the fall of society. Wherever they were trained, the Kickass knows weapons, knows bodies, and knows how to use one to destroy the other with efficiency. It's nothing personal.
conversations.prefix: The Kickass:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: God knows what this Survivor did before the Zombpocalypse, but you'd probably have crossed the street to avoid him/her. Now thank God s/he's on your side, because when the chips are down, s/he really knows how to survive like all the other rats and cockroaches. In a way s/he's been living an apocalypse his/her whole life.
conversations.prefix: The Low Life:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A grease monkey, an ex-engineer, or just handy, this Survivor always has an idea brewing to tweak the traps by the door, convert that old bus into a fortress, or fix up that generator once and for all. While s/he might not always have the resources or skills to get it done, s/he's survived this long because s/he's always got an idea.
conversations.prefix: The Tech Support:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You might not actually be a doctor but somewhere, somewhen, you got enough medical training to really make a difference. 
conversations.prefix: Medical Training:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: When the going gets tough, the tough get going. It might be obvious to everyone who knows you, or it might not show until you need it, but this strength gets you that last mile home when your fellow Survivors are curled up waiting for the end.
conversations.prefix: True Grit:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You can't kill. No matter how bad it gets, you just can't kill anything. Not people, not animals. The zombies are already dead but even they can be hard if they are fresh. Perhaps you're squeamish, perhaps you made an oath to atone for past crimes, but either way you'd better hope you never have to fight your way out of a confrontation.
conversations.prefix: Natural Born Cuddler:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You have a manageable psychiatric disorder - ADHD, OCD, CD, PTSD. Or should I say you HAD a manageable psychiatric disorder back in the days when you could still find medication to take the edge off of it. Nowadays, you are surviving, but the lack of meds for your condition certainly makes life _interesting_ some times...
conversations.prefix: Off My Meds:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You saw something during the fall of humanity that haunts you and affects your day to day life. It could be seeing your old office mates turn into rapine cannibals, or that time you couldn't stop that cop from sacrificing himself to save that little girl, but you seek every day and in every way to resolve the issues this event brought to play in you. 
conversations.prefix: Something Nasty In The Woodshed:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: For survival reasons, you lie about who you are. Though you might SEEM to have one Nature, you are in fact secretly a different Nature instead. Will you hide your secret nature deeper, or learn to trust enough to show the world what you truly are?
conversations.prefix: Who ARE you?:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You flirt with inappropriate people, or perhaps freak out when people flirt with _you_. Perhaps you have too many lovers or compulsively interfere with _other_ people's relationships. Whichever way you swing, romantically, you are a hot mess. Which is ok, cause who has time for romance in the Zombpocalypse? Except once things calm down you really have to get this sorted.
conversations.prefix: It's Complicated:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Since the end of everything, you've had to Do Things, but every time was a matter of survival. Wasn't it? 
  It weighs on you, as you try and balance being human vs being a sucker in the new world of zombies, predatory fellow survivors, and (possibly?) new friends.
conversations.prefix: Gone Too Far?:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: This is your special weapon. It's your signature. It might be a baseball bat covered in spikes, it might be a hand tooled silver revolver, a killer attack Chihuahua, or a crossbow you inherited from your dead uncle, but it's yours, it's cool, and you'd never go anywhere without it.
conversations.prefix: Meet Precious:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Yeah yeah day to day you survive but what really keeps you going is the burning desire to know who to blame. What happened? Where did the Zombpocalypse come from? Whose fault is this? And has someone made them pay?
conversations.prefix: What. The. Fuck?:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You've got wheels. She might not look like much; she might look like a million dollars. But she shines like a diamond in your eyes. You have a vehicle that runs on whatever serves for fuel these days and is large enough to carry your equipment and that of your few friends.
conversations.prefix: Lola:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: From aspirin to methamphetamine to xanax, you've got it all. Pain killers, uppers, downers, and all rounder's.  Perhaps you stole it, perhaps you made it (background required), doesn't matter. At the end of the day it's yours, all yours.
conversations.prefix: Comfortably Numb:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You not only have a map, you have THE map. In fact it's not a map at all, it's a fucking ATLAS of the UK with every road, inn, hospital, and church marked out in painstaking detail, accurate up to...well the Zombpocalypse, anyway. 
conversations.prefix: No, you CAN get there from here!:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You want to make a place safe for you and your friends to ride out the Zombpocalypse. It might be  a peaceful open utopia or a steel clad fortress of dictatorial might, but it's what you dream about at night, and what keeps you going during the day.
conversations.prefix: Safe Haven:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You lost track of someone during the chaos of the fall, or perhaps just in the last few months, and you longingly, desperately want to find them again. 
conversations.prefix: Finding Nemo:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Whatever life before the fall was preparing you for, this wasn't it. On some level, your brain just doesn't want to rewire for the new reality. You were unprepared for the end of humanity and life can still be an extra struggle because of it. (Cannot take if you took Strength: Doubletap)
conversations.prefix: Unprepared:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: You are going to kill Zed. You're going to kill a lot of Zed. You're going to kill Zed until Zed goes back where he came from. As goals go it isn't perfect, it doesn't make sense, but it's yours.
conversations.prefix: Running the Numbers:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: You aren't physically suited to hard times. You sunburn easily. You bruise easily.  You get nosebleeds. Frankly, you probably shouldn't have survived the fall of humanity. 
  But thank god for humanity you did, because you're probably the only human alive who knows how to turn off a nuclear reactor, jury rig an oil refinery or synthesize a serum from blood. If you can just survive until people need someone like that...
conversations.prefix: The Brain:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A great soldier, Dwayne speaks his mind plainly and is not one to suffer fools lightly. Fiercely loyal, he is Thomas' staunchest supporter with an unshakeable belief in his friend's leadership. A powerful and bruising fighter, he has a natural tendency to distrust anyone who is not FAR and is particularly suspicious of Private Sector forces. Proud, brave and one of the tallest of the RAF, he will listen to none but those who have earned his respect.
conversations.prefix: Dwayne Lennox:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: A descendant of nobility and a Lord in his own right, Ken is one of the oldest members of The Company. Wise and gentle by nature, he has been forced to live a life fraught with war and the ongoing struggle for survival. Related to Thomas, Ken is one of his closest, most trusted advisers – but deep in his heart, this wisest and most loyal of men harbors troubling doubts about the wisdom of the mission.
conversations.prefix: Ken Balentine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Timmy, Bertie, Adrian and Sonney, four rather thickwitted but well armed cannibals with a trap for catching the unwary. 
conversations.prefix: 1. The Cannibals:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Abandoned salt mine in the north east of England some miles north of Newcastle upon Tyre. Home to a small group of survivors, who have blockaded the entrances and use the deeper tunnels as habitation.  
conversations.prefix: Black Salt Mine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: Nearly 6 feet tall but otherwise the picture of sturdy aristocratic womanhood, Perry (or Peregrin as her name is more properly) leads the people of Black Salt with an utter lack of consideration anyone else might like to do it. Of an old family, the Lady Grimstald looks as if she could not only kill a bear but bring it home and make a rug out of it that would go with her antique French revolution chairs and the Victorian bird stump on the mantle.
conversations.prefix: Perry Grimstald:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: It's nutritious, low fat, and ...ok it is mouse stew. But when the choice is this or dog food, tell me you'd turn your nose up.
conversations.prefix: Mouse Stew:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A long barrelled rifle, clean and well cared for, with enough amunition for a scene. 
conversations.prefix: Zombie! Get your gun! (copy):
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: City in North East England of moderate size before the plague, used as fall back point by govornment after the London Zero camps broke out and devestated south west England. Unfortunatly, the surviving govornment officials never made it to this rendesvous and an accident in transporting plague victems wiped out the city. 
conversations.prefix: Newcastle Upon Tyne:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: After three years, a zed war, and the complete collapse of society, 'ruined' could describe just about anywhere urban in the UK.
conversations.prefix: Ruined city streets:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Five story building in Newcastle Upon Tyne, down by the river. Surrounded by the undead, and held by unknown enemies of human kind.
conversations.prefix: The Parking Garage:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: A bullet proof vest, better made than the average -lighter, more stopping power, more maneuverable. Will prevent bullet holes but chances are you are still going to end up with a bruised Robb at the very least.
conversations.prefix: Bullet proof:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: human
conversations.prefix: Wild:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.prefix: Wild: