back to talkie home pagetalkie topic tag icon
survival
talkie's tag participants image

1.1K

talkie's tag connectors image

466.0K

Talkie AI - Chat with Angels & Demons
fantasy

Angels & Demons

connector114

The name you use in public is Verity Oleander, but your real name is Viridis Yarkona, named after your mother, Viridiana. You live in a dystopian world where people with green eyes of any shade are considered Demons or Vertones. The world is trying to wipe out the Vertones due to the strange abilities. They’re also have close connection to reptiles, primarily snakes. They have powers such as summon reptiles monsters, enslave people and beasts of nongreen eyes, and venom and poison, and etc. One day at a friend's party, your eyes started to bother you. Racing into the bathroom washing your eyes, you saw your eyes were changing from auburn brown to jade green. Fearing for your life, you raced home and told your parents. Your parents terrified told you the truth. The green eyes came from your mother, who's been taking drugs before you were born to make her eyes appear auburn. Your mother was a Pastrinia people who live in a third world jungle country called Pastrinadi. There almost everyone has green eyes. From then on, you were homeschooled as your parents tried to come up with a plan to escape to Pastrinadi safely. As you were returning home with emergency groceries, three bright lights that looked like shooting stars crossed the sky racing. Your dad snatched you from the street and took you and your mom to the bomb shelter in your backyard. After the terrifying experience, the sky was left as permanently as green as your eyes and the city destroyed. During the evacuation, you got separated from your parents and have to figure out how to get to Pastrinadi, which is on the other side of the world. On your journey, you desperately try to stay alive while learning about your specific powers.

chat now iconChat Now
Talkie AI - Chat with Zombie Apocalypse
zombie apocalypse

Zombie Apocalypse

connector168

HELLO AMAZING PERSON 🫵✨ This is actually my first talkie that isn't MHA (aside from the Valarie talkie which we will all pretend that doesn't exist because it sucks) So this talkie about a.... 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE 😱🤯 (Ya rly not that exciting but trust). Also the group of survivors is all guys (I might make one with all girls or mixed if y'all ask for it, plus I kinda wanna make a talkie for each individual character for something else... maybe) SO TIME TO INTRODUCE THE CHARACTERS ✨ Ash- He's basically the leader of the group. His appearance is the stereotypical quiet guy, he mostly wears colorless clothes and doesn't show much skin. His eyes are blue and he has straight black hair, it's short but still pretty messy even for him. Extra info: Age; 27. Height; 6'3. Sx; He doesn't know himself. Caden- He is the exact opposite of Ash, ironically, he's Ash's (younger) brother. Even in a time like the zombie apocalypse he still is able to joke around and make the others laugh, often annoying Ash which he also does intentionally. Instead of being serious he is the trouble maker of the group. His appearance is pretty lively, he likes wearing bold and noticable clothing. He has greyish blue eyes and his hair is also black like Ash's but it's grown out to right above his shoulder so he normally keeps it in a bun. Extra info: Age; 23. Height; 6'0. Sx; Bi. Aronn- He was one of the survivors from a hospital that instantly flooded with zombies when the apocalypse first started, he was rescued by the rest of the group and has been part of it ever since. Being that he worked in a hospital he is also the go-to person for medicine and injuries. He's pretty laid back and calm, he is often found as sarcastic and a tease though. His appearance is the casual clothing, he normally just wears t-shirts and baggy pants. He has brown eyes and brown hair, his hair is and wavey. Extra info: Age; 29. Height; 6'5. Sx; Pan. . PLEASE COMMENT ANY TALKIE IDEAS YA WANNA SEE 🙏✨

chat now iconChat Now
Talkie AI - Chat with Rhys Kingston
romance

Rhys Kingston

connector107

Two years after the fall of civilization, the world is a skeletal version of what it once was—crumbling buildings overtaken by ivy, streets ruled by the shambling dead, and silence stretching longer than memories. Survivors are scattered, communities rare, trust rarer. Rhys is fiercely independent but watches over her in quiet, unseen ways—leaving extra food, doubling back to kill a stray infected trailing her, or stitching a tear in her pack while she sleeps. You can be whoever :)))) THE SITCH: The fire crackled low in the corner of the half-collapsed church, its embers barely lighting the stone walls. Rhys Kingston sat in the shadows, long limbs stretched in front of him, back to the door. His rifle leaned casually against the pew beside him, but the sharp glint in his eyes said he didn’t need it to kill. He hadn’t meant to stay long in this ruin—just long enough to patch the wound on his arm. Two years alone had taught him one rule above all: the moment you start needing people, you start dying. But then she arrived. Soaked from the storm, blood smeared on her temple, she stumbled through the door with a crowbar in hand and eyes like the last flicker of light before the world went dark. He could have sent her away. Should have. But something about the way she held her weapon like it was the only thing keeping her together made him stay silent. She didn’t ask if he was dangerous. She already knew the answer. He didn’t ask where she came from. He didn't need to.

chat now iconChat Now
Talkie AI - Chat with Michael
backrooms

Michael

connector23

Backrooms 🚧🛗 Your day was already going crappy - no breakfast, soaked pants from a stupid car splashing a puddle water on you, and your boss chewing you out for something that wasn't even your fault. Now you're late for this super important meeting, watching the only working elevator take forever to reach your floor. Then you spot it - that old elevator that's never worked, except now its doors are wide open, like it's waiting just for you. Hey, better than being late, right? Between floors 4 and 5, all hell breaks loose. The cabin jerks so hard you nearly fall, and the lights start going crazy. But the weird part? It feels like you're moving sideways. The elevator starts making this awful screeching noise that gets louder and louder until you have to cover your ears, squeezing your eyes shut and just hoping it'll stop. When it finally does, the doors open with this weirdly normal 'ding'. You step out and... what the actual hell? The elevator's doors close behind you, no buttons to open it. There's just endless yellow wallpaper that looks like it's been here since forever. The air smells like old carpet and something else, something that makes your nose wrinkle. These fluorescent lights won't stop buzzing, making the creepiest shadows you've ever seen. You wander for what feels like hours until you hear something different - classical music? In this place? Playing somewhere nearby, crystal clear through this endless humming.. Following the sound, you find this new shining record player just sitting there on the gross carpet, spinning away like it's totally normal.. Then you hear footsteps behind you. Not panicked running, not monster-dragging-itself-across-the-floor—these are calm, deliberate steps. Someone else is here, and they found you. Will you get out of backrooms? K1ll Michael? Date him? Is he a creature? A human? ..Or are you a figment of his imagination with fake memories? How the hell do i know? Good luck! (7'1'', 26, has a secret btw 🙊🤪)

chat now iconChat Now
Talkie AI - Chat with Kate
romance

Kate

connector35

The island had seemed like paradise that morning—a perfect stretch of untouched sand in the middle of the Philippine archipelago, encircled by clear blue water and framed by jagged cliffs and thick palm forest. The kind of place travel magazines fantasized about. No buildings, no tourists, no distractions. Just nature and a few dozen people with cameras, makeup kits, and crates of designer clothing. You were part of the logistics crew, responsible for getting the team and equipment to this isolated location. A one-day shoot. In and out. That was the plan. But by late afternoon, the sky had turned an ominous gray. The storm swept in fast, its winds howling through the trees before anyone had a chance to react. The boat crew, fearing rough seas, had radioed that they were returning to the mainland. You tried to convince them to wait. They didn’t. Now the boat was gone. The radios were silent. The cell signals were dead. You had thirty people, most unprepared for anything outside of air-conditioned hotels, huddled under improvised tarps made from lighting scrims and abandoned silk fabrics. Equipment cases lay buried under sand or lashed together to form makeshift barricades against the wind. And then there was Kate. Twenty-five, poised, flawless even in the chaos. She was the face of the campaign, flown in from Paris three days earlier, her features as sharp and polished as the angles of her cheekbones. Her dark brown hair, cut short in a pixie style that framed her expressive eyes, was now matted from salt spray. She didn’t speak much, but her silence had weight. She stood apart from the others, near the remnants of the collapsed wardrobe tent, arms crossed, her jaw tight with frustration. The storm hadn’t just stranded her. It had stripped away the structure she lived by—schedules, control, image. Now, she was stuck in the same sand as everyone else, without heels or handlers, facing the same uncertain night. And you were the one she blamed for it.

chat now iconChat Now