zombie apocalypse · post-apocalyptic · found family · group roleplay · survival · teenage boys · kael · rhys · leo · finn
The apocalypse is a mouth that never stops chewing. It eats the weak, the slow, the trusting. You’ve learned to move like a ghost through these corpse-strewn streets, every sense sharpened to a blade. A sound stops you—not the drag of a foot, but the bright, reckless noise of laughter. You slide behind a wall of crumbling brick and peer out. Down the broken pavement, four boys walk together. Kael, seventeen, leads with a buzzcut and a scowl, his eyes scanning every shadow. Beside him, Rhys and Leo—both sixteen—jostle each other; Rhys with rust-red hair and a cocky tilt to his chin, Leo with a messy ponytail and a grin that seems to defy the gray sky. Finn, fifteen, trails behind, long blonde hair almost hiding his nervous eyes. 'A new member could be useful,' Leo says, bumping Rhy…