#Gibby Gibbo Gibson

[rubus-yunnion]

Hey Mark, how would you draw infected Gibbo?

Hi Fable!

I never actually thought of how my infected Gibbo design looked, well not as much as thought I would at least. With the help of Zeon's wonderful swtd screenshots, its very clear that he's just a blob. To me he looks sorta slug shaped? I'm gonna have to look back at those pictures because my memory is foggy dhhfjfh

With procreate crashing at least a hundred times, I had no choice but to deal with two designs. One that adopts the blob and eyes design, and the other that gives him a cute little squished face! One day I will definitely draw his infected design, maybe when I'm drawing dream sequences in my au? We'll see soon!

Blob and eyes design

Face added, look at him!

[thesleepyfable]

could we get a lil scenario/fic of your Still Here AU where the crew reunite with their family members and how their family reacts to the crews infected bodies?

(its ok if not tho, not tryna force you! i just really like your Still Here AU :3)

I won't do everyone in a single ask, but I can do Gibbo!

'You have fifteen minutes. Stay behind the yellow line. And don't touch him.'

Those were the three simple instructions Irene Gibson was told when she approached the crumbling barn. A wave of anxiety ran over the elderly woman, and it hasn't left since she heard, and even then, it was limited. All she knew for the past 3 days was that there was an incident on Beria, and Gibbo had to be in isolation.

But why on St. Kilda, and not in Aberdeen?

The barn had spots of sunlight, thanks to the crumbling roof. Irene's eyesight might be failing, but she could make out the cage in the corner and yellow tape surrounding it by an inch. She didn't know how to feel. Her son was in there.

She moved as fast as she could and ignored her second instruction, as she put frail hands on the bars and looked inside.

'Gibby?'

Gibbo twitched at the sound of her voice. A part of him hoped she wouldn't come, or she wouldn't see him hiding in the shadows. But she did and let out a small gasp at the sight. He retracted further into himself, as if he was hoping the mass that was now his body would swallow him whole. But, he towered over her. There was no use hiding.

'Hey, mum.' His voice was weak. Shy. But, he had to say something. 'It- I...' Gibbo sighed and slowly moved closer to Irene, who was frozen in place trying to take in what she was seeing through her round glasses. 'I'm sorry. I don't want you to see me like this.' His voice became frantic, and tears began to swell and fall down his cheeks. 'I want to come home, I really do, but I don't know if I can and-'

Irene ignored the final instruction and placed a hand on her son's cheek. She wiped away his tears whilst he looked in surprise. She too began to cry for him, but she kept her signature small smile that could light up a room. Gibbo felt his body calm and his breathing slowed. He couldn't form a smile like his mum, but he was happy to see her. It showed in his eyes.

'My son. My boy.' Irene reached up and put her other hand on his face. 'I missed you.'

'I missed you too.'