This is a 'role play' I did with my friend, so this story is dedicated to him. Eu sempre te amo.

For throes of you who don't know what a 'role play' is, it's pretty much you and another person choose a plot, then create characters who go through the determined plot, I guess...

Disclaimers: The plot belongs to JPMBV (I don't think he wants his manner out there for anyone to see) and Danny Phantom, of course, belongs to Butch Hartman!

Danny Fenton:

There's a new disease in the world. It is highly infectious and it's hard to find a cure for it. My country had been hit. Hard. Almost everyone died and, during my flee from the disease; I lost contact with my family. I got in a boat and traveled to your country. I'm a refugee. You work as a nurse in the refugee camp where I am. Though I'm not infected, and, in your country, there are still not so many cases, there's always some precaution about the spreading of the disease.
The disease causes fever, blood loss, internal injuries and finally, brain death. Its transmission works via infected blood contact and proximity towards those who are infected.
Its name is KAH (Kill All Humans) and not affected countries are working on a cure. But the bacteria is highly instable and mutations are common, which makes the cure something hard to produce.
After the brain death... People rise again, as walkers. Brain dead, and hungry.

Sam Manson:

In terms of location, it's a relatively deserted area, an island off the coast of Australia. The only ways to get there are boat or plane, since the disease began to spread, the planes have been disbanded so there are no more flying. There's a good amount of food and the refugee camp is kind of in a bubble. There are 2 doors and a small room to separate us from the plague. There are a lot of trees and herbal medications so we don't die from lack of Oxygen.

Sam Manson: "New guy," I call out as I help someone who broke their wrist on the trip here. "May you toss me the roll of bandages?" I point to the brown roll across the room.

Danny Fenton: I hear someone calling but I'm too busy calling someone's name "JAZZ! Jazz!" I call. I seem to be desperate as I look at all the faces and don't see the one I'm looking for. My sleeve is stained with red.

Sam Manson: I get the roll then finish up with the person. I go over to you and tap you on the shoulder of the arm that doesn't have the blood. "Excuse me sir, may I help you?"

Danny Fenton: I turn to you, quickly. "No!" I scowl " I...I mean...yes... ha-have you seen my sister? I mean she's kind of short, purple eyes, blonde hair? I- we got separated when we got in the boat to come here... ha-have you seen her?" I say, not harshly this time.

Sam Manson: "I'm sorry, sir, but I haven't seen anyone with purple eyes, except myself since I've arrived here," I say nervously, "but I was more indicating the blood on your sleeve, may I be so kind as to help you with that?"

Danny Fenton: I feel my eyes getting wet and bring my hands to my hair messing it up. "No, no, no, no..." I look around, desperate. "What if she is infected? What if she didn't get in the boat...?" I ramble to myself, not paying attention to the blood.

Sam Manson: I attempt to relax you. "What is your name?"

Danny Fenton: "I...I'm... I'm Darik..." I say, absentminded. "I need... I need to find her..." I turn to the door.

Sam Manson: "Darik," I say angrily, "if you don't close up the blood that's coming from your arm, YOU will get infected. If you want to find your sister, take care of yourself first, it's your best shot."

Danny Fenton: "But I..." I look down at my arm and grimace at the torn sleeve covered with blood. I clench my jaw and look down. Without a word, I sigh and turn to you.

Sam Manson: I take you into the medical area. "Do you mind if I cut your shirt," I ask, "if you'd rather I not cut it, may you take it off so I may better see the wound?"

Danny Fenton: "Whatever you prefer..." I say gruffly. I take my shirt off and, while I do it, "aahh" I frown when feeling the pain from the cut in my arm.

Sam Manson: "It's nice to meet you, Darik," I grumble, "welcome to our little part of the world." I gently take the remaining fibers out of your cut. "Sorry if I hurt you." I put some antibiotic on the cut and wrap it in tight gauze.

Danny Fenton: "Ahhh! Careful with that!" I complain. "Little part of the world uh... or what's left of it..." I mumble.

Sam Manson: "Your sister will be fine," I say finishing up, angered by the hostile tone in your voice. I walk away without another word.

Like? Hate? Neutral? Well, stop judging. This is just chapter One. it gets better, I think.

Peace, Love, Phantom,

PhantomPhan67

:D :P