Who Will You Be in the Zombie Apocalypse?
|CPG -- Cunning Peaceful Group. This makes you a Spiritual advisor/masseuse/hairdresser.|
Lemme get real for a minute. The three great needs of humankind are God, sex and grooming. Regardless of the zombie apocalypse, people will need spiritual leadership -- to the extent that one inspiring sufficient faith can even ensure his or her survival. Regardless of how lone a mercenary is, he can be lured to the campfire by the promise of physical pleasure. And especially in conditions of close quarters, infrequent bathing and the threat of lice, being able to braid a wicked head of cornrows is a tremendous commodity.
Anyhoo. Your wisecracking guru, masseuse or hairdresser is one of the precious few who make it to the end. You might be mediocre with a gun, not-so-hot under the hood, and not so influential a leader, but you've got something much more important -- relatability. By Jove, if you don't survive this mess, we don't want to, either.
9 % are this type.
|CPS -- Cunning Peaceful Solo. This makes you a Sarcastic Interloper.|
The group encounters you while you are doing something delightfully debauched, like singing a Disney tune while throwing a chair through the glass doors of an ABC store. You are dirty, disheveled, but highly charismatic. It is likely a member of the group finds you attractive, and tries to make you a project.
The attracted Samaritan tries to integrate you into the group. For a couple of nights you are a welcome addition, bringing entertainment, stories, and fresh food. You and the Samaritan enjoy a night of fierce, excellent zombie apocalypse sex.
But eventually you disappear in search of your addiction, and you come back trailing a horde of ravenous undead.
When the group finally fends off the attack and, forced to leave their once-excellent digs, escape to inferior ones, the group explains to the Samaritan that you aren't welcome anymore. Real Leader offers to tell you, but Samaritan says, "No, it has to be me."
When confronted, you realize that, not only has your behavior threatened the group, but it has made you less than human -- a pet that the Samaritan can no longer keep. You swagger off -- "Good riddance! I never wanted to follow y'all anyway!" -- and have a good, lonely cry.
Some time later, when the undead attack the group again, and all seems lost, it is you that shows up on the horizon, drunk and raving, and lures the horde away long enough for the group to escape. You die singing a Disney tune.
12 % are this type.
|CVG -- Cunning Violent Group. This makes you a Guy who wants to be the Leader.|
Oh man, you are totally Jayne Cobb.
You could have been a thief, or even a mercenary. But there's something in you that likes other people -- even if it's just to make dry comments about.
You are the leader of the small group that the Real Leader's group discovers and absorbs. Rattled by your fall from power, you resent the Real Leader, questioning her decisions and gloating over her failures.
One fateful night, when the undead attack, you have sown enough doubt that the group follows your instructions, not hers. Real Leader, now Cassandra unable to convince the group of their peril, pursues her plan alone. One defector, refusing to let her go alone, follows her.
Because of one overlooked detail, your plan puts the entire group in danger. Lives are lost, but eventually Real Leader and defector ride to the rescue, preferably in an earth-moving machine.
The group escapes. Exhausted, they nurse their wounds at a new camp. You and Real Leader have a heated confrontation, which ends in hot, hot zombie apocalypse sex.
At the next attack of undead, you give your life to protect the group, redeeming yourself, perhaps waving a huge American flag atop the bulldozer just before you die. The survivors, including Real Leader and your unborn, magically-conceived-in-one-night-of-sex child, escape to utopian safety -- or do they?!
12 % are this type.
|CVS -- Cunning Violent Solo. This makes you a Thief.|
When supplies go missing, the group turns on each other, pointing fingers and indulging old prejudices. Little do they know the culprit is YOU, silently invading the camp at night for beans, bullets and Band-Aids.
At last you grow cocky and careless. You are wounded by the person most suspected of your crimes, and brought back to the group as proof of innocence. Perhaps it's your shell-shocked stare, or perhaps you have some valuable supplies of your own. Perhaps you are tragically young or wildly attractive. Whatever the case, the group spares your life -- over the objections of the person who captured you, who will nurse his resentment well.
Forced by your injuries to stay with the group, you learn something about yourself as you connect with them. You wonder if your ends justify your means. But after you demonstrate your loyalty by rescuing your former captor from a violent end, you're horrified by the risk you took. You choose to do what it takes to survive, so you refuse to stay with those you would give your life for.
Not yet fully healed, you steal away in the night, taking a moment to look back once -- only once -- at the campfire you'll never see again.
3 % are this type.
|RPG -- Resourceful Peaceful Group. This makes you a Medic/Mechanic.|
You are the most important member of the group. Sure, there's food in the locker and water in the cistern, but if you can't keep this rig moving/stop this wound from bleeding it's a short trip for everybody.
Your rational mind means you observe more than you say. If you have a vice, you practice it while working -- a shot from the group bottle before replacing the spark-plugs, for instance, or a cigarette during surgery. You're also a deadly sharp-shooter, though you're too precious to the group to be put on the front line.
Your position means you're always close to home base when the poo hits the fan. You're sitting next to pregnant woman while the storm brews overhead, watching the sky with a stoic expression and one bead of sweat rolling down your temple. Or you're hammering away on the vehicle while everyone screams inside, trying to get the engine to turn over when the horde of ravenous undead are only feet away.
It's a high stress position, and that's why it's you that gets out the guitar around the campfire. It's you that tells the rousing, then emotional story from the Time Before that draws a tear to everyone's eye. And it's you that gets killed mid-sentence by a silent bullet from a rival gang, heralding a mass attack. With you goes the group's hope for survival.
13 % are this type.
|RPS -- Resourceful Peaceful Solo. This makes you a Survivalist.|
Of all the zombie apocalypse survivors, you are the best equipped to survive long-term -- and ironically the one guaranteed not to do so. Despite your skill, your resourcefulness, and your passionate preference for traveling alone, you will be lured to the fire by the harmony the group sings -- harmony you haven't heard in weeks.
You tell yourself you're only visiting the group for a moment. For a marshmallow or a story, perhaps. To warn them of danger ahead, or to trade food. No matter. You find yourself staying two days, then three, until a zombie attack seals your commitment. You find yourself escaping on foot, easily outrunning the danger -- but someone cries out behind you, and, God help you, you turn around.
Eventually you'll reveal the story about yourself that made you strike out alone. But it will be too late. You are marked for zombie death. You have traded survival for the human connection, and it was worth it.
5 % are this type.
|RVG -- Resourceful Violent Group. This makes you a Real Leader.|
Congratulations! You're the leader of this messed-up gang of lightning-strike survivors. Now it's up to you to solve problems of food, water, shelter, and what to do with the dude who just got bit but has about 18 good hours left in him.
Yeah, it's good to be leader, and you get the most screen time. But you have to deal with all the most painful situations. Parent and child have to be separated? Guess who gets to enforce that decision.
Plus, you're not guaranteed to survive. You may find yourself disabled, bleeding horrifically, crammed in a stairwell with a shotgun while the survivors run to the roof. You may have to lie to the grubby, orphaned six-year-old to get her to go with the others. You may spend your last minutes counting bullets, to make sure you have one saved for yourself.
Or you could make it to the utopian survivor's camp! 50/50!
33 % are this type.
|RVS -- Resourceful Violent Solo. This makes you a Mercenary.|
You work alone. Even if some adorable orphaned grubby six-year-old uses your name for the first word she's said since they found her, you can't stick around. You have rooftops to snipe from and ammunition caches to raid. You might sell out the location of the group to the next marauding gang looking for a fresh target. Bad mercenary. BAD!
Or you might stick around the group long enough to complete and be paid for some caper. In that time you might learn something about yourself, or rediscover a bit of your humanity you thought was lost for good. You might even redeem yourself by going out in a blaze of glory to protect said orphan, or a pregnant woman, or some other character symbolizing hope. Probably you wanted to go out like that anyway.
Meanwhile you eat fresh deer while everyone else eats cold beans from a can. YOU RULE.
12 % are this type.
|936 people have taken this quiz. Here is the distribution:|
|CPG||Spiritual advisor/masseuse/hairdresser||9.3 %||..........|
|CPS||Sarcastic Interloper||11.5 %||............|
|CVG||Guy who wants to be the Leader||12.2 %||.............|
|RVG||Real Leader||33.3 %||..................................|
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