#heavily inspired by the pandemic

[emp-roar]

"MY ARMY SETTLED IN THE VALLEY of Barovia and took power over the people in the name of a just god, but with none of a god's grace or justice." -- Tome of Strahd

"Raven's Inquisition" is a Curse of Strahd prequel campaign I am currently playing in where we get to explore setting elements and character relations that otherwise could not have been explored in the canon module. The DM @emp-roar (me) is constructing the campaign as an adaptation of the "I, Strahd" novel, where Barovia has yet been established, Strahd is still human, and the players are all inquisitors overtaking the Tsolenka Valley under the von Zarovich crest and the banner of the Morninglord.

Hi all! It has been a while since I've been on the internet, but I have since graduated and pursuing a career in animation! I was gifted the I,Strahd book during the middle of the pandemic and had been itching to run a prequel campaign based on an adapted take of I, Strahd, exploring elements that made Barovia and ultimately, Strahd, the way it became.

Hope you like the Ravenloft cast who the party had met. (Unironically this looks like a dating sim.)

Additionally the breakdown of Sergei's Vestments can be found in my player's @tateringss arsenal.

Impera Brigade insignia credit goes to ChiRHOKin I adored the shape of his alternative Barovia flag.

Strahd Portrait belongs to WOTC and the overall design and style was heavily inspired by Thronebreaker a Witcher's Tale!

And lastly! SOL INVICTUS!

[dyemelikeasunset]

Now that all the chapters about fashion week are finished (we just have their reunion chapter left!) I decided to do a little dive into some of my inspirations for the past few chapters!

For some context, most of the looks are around the 2012-2018 range, since that was when I was most active in fashion, I set Dom & Mor's story pre-pandemic and around that time period. For the London splash page, I fudged it a bit with the Burberry look from 2022 lol, but other than that, I tried to stick in the 2015ish range

Each of the splash pages are based on a designer I heavily associate with that city. With the exception of Alexander McQueen who is not based in NYC, the other three are all design houses from those cities.

If any look from the fashion month arc doesn't show up here, it means I came up with it myself!

[itsstrange]

A Little Bit Warmer

Fandom: MW, MW2, MW3

Relationship: Zombie Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

A/N: I’ve Had This Idea Since Zombie Ghost Was First Introduced But Never Got Around To Officially Write It Down, But Now, IT’S OFFICIALLY HERE!! Had So Much Fun Writing This One.

Also, This Will Definitely Be A Mini Series! Another Thing, This Was Also Semi Inspired By Warm Bodies. 🤗

{ANY WARNING TRIGGERS WILL BE POSTED IN THE BEGINNING IF THE STORY!}

Summary: Is It Possible That There Is Such Things As Miracles? Or Does A Cold Heart Eventually Finds Its Warmth?

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: (Yes) Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Murder, Slightly Graphic Content, Guns, Knifes, etc, Slow Burn, Fluff, Angst, Zombie Protective Ghost, Jealous Zombie Ghost, Eventual Smut,

Call Sign: Kali

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ENJOY! ���🫶

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October 18, 2026

S.C.H.Q

23:00 pm

“How low are we?”

“Low. A lot of children and families are getting sick with this damn weather,”

“What about the emergency vault? I thought we did a big score not too long ago? Filled it up with supplies?”

“Like I said Lieutenant, a lot of children and families are getting sick. It’s spreading like wildfire. And fast. The medical ward is getting overwhelmed with people that they’re down to their last case of supplies,”

“Any casualties?”

The older man sighs, rubbing at his eyebrow, “One so far,”

Fucking great.

You sigh heavily. Leaning your exhausted body against the desk. It had been such a long couple days that the moment you finally arrived at base all you wanted to do was fall asleep for a week straight. You had gone out of the safe zone with a group to try and clear more sections of the city to keep it safe, to expand your community, to make more shelter considering it kept growing as the days went by. So after 8 days of being out of the safe zone, sleeping in uncomfortable conditions, killing herds of flesh eating Zeds, killing looters, you had successfully came back to base with great news. You and your team were able to successfully recover another hot zone, another great victory where everyone in your group made it back with no injuries. No bite marks.

Yet, despite the great news you had for your leader, bad news was landed on your shoulders once again. Fucking typical with this goddamn unit. You had barely gotten off the humvee when a soldier walked towards you with a message that you were needed in the Generals office. Which resulted in you standing near General Shepherds desk as you listened with exhausted eyes that threatened to close on you.

Your long term friend, teammate, partner in crime Phillip Graves stood beside you. His own exhaustion lingering on his stubble jaw.

“When are we heading out?” You ask after a heavy exhale, hands resting on your vest as you stare at the man in front of you,

“Tomorrow. 0500,” Well there goes my beauty sleep. “You and Graves along with the rest of your squad will head up North.”

You nod at the man. Taking in all the information given. It was nothing you’ve never done before, practically done it your entire life. First stop was to head over to Lincoln Grove, where a small downtown with multiple stores stood. You’ve raided most of the stores, but some still remained untouched so it was worth checking out. Main mission was to head further down, passing the barricades of the safe zone towards Red Lines where a hospital stood somewhere in the section.

Easy enough.

Only it wasn’t. Red Lines was known for its activeness of Zeds, Lurkers, runners and Ghouls. Ghouls were rare to be seen out in the city, they mostly hid where it’s dark so they can ambush anyone who pumps warm blood. But still, even they make random appearances during the day.

Red Lines was one of the most uncontrolled sections of the city, it wasn’t where the pandemic first hit, but it was where most of the population lost their lives. It remained untouched. Every time a group went through in hopes to control it, they never came back. Not a single soul in the group would make it back.

Unfortunately, Shepherd was a stubborn old dog and continued in trying to push out every infected there is to officially claim Red Lines. Why? Because he knew by owning Red Lines he’ll have higher authority when it came to medicine. His main goal was to claim that hot section just to control what comes in and out of the hospital.

And you knew he’d do anything to own it.

“Any questions?” Shepherd asks, eyes averting from you to the man beside you, when neither spoke up he nods his head before dismissing you both,

Without another word, just another exhausted sigh falling from your lips you walk out of the man’s office then down the hallways to get out of the building to get to your private quarters. Which really was a rundown apartment complex that was right across from the business building where Shepherd stood hid.

Fifth floor to be precise. Inside the biggest office there was.

Almost every soldier from Shadow Company lived in your apartment complex. Shepherds orders. Claimed his soldiers needed to be ready and alert for anything and everything. The actual truth you knew that he just didn’t want to admit to anyone or the civilians was, he simply wanted his soldiers closer to him for better and faster protection from anyone and anything that tries to threaten him.

The thought alone makes a loud scoff leave your lips as you walk down the stairs to the first floor. Graves, who was walking beside you and speaking to you the entire time—which you obviously weren’t paying attention to— sends you a look. Brows knitted together as you both make your way out the building.

“Somethin’ funny?”

You look over to him, eyes locking for a second before you avert them back in front of you as you push through the semi broken glass doors.

“Yeah. Funny how I thought I was gonna get a good nights sleep today,” You throw in a lie. Well.. not really,

Graves snickers at your words, placing an arm around your shoulders to tug you closer to his side as you both make your way to the apartments.

“Come on up to my room and I’ll give you a good nights sleep,” Graves purrs into your ear, a scoff leaving your lips as you shove him off you,

“In your wildest dreams Philip,” After so many years of working alongside the Texan man you’ve grown use to his flirtatious comments,

Philip Graves was a man known for his words. Especially when it came to luring woman into his bedsheets, something that personally makes an acid-like taste in your tongue at the thought of it. No matter how much you need to unwind or just forget about this shitty ass world for a few minutes, you will never accept his offer. You saw Graves as a close friend, a teammate, and surprisingly a brother. And you knew he knew that too, mostly because you have rejected him multiple times, but Graves was such a stubborn man that he didn’t take no as answer. Obviously he’ll never push it, once rejected always rejected, but that didn’t mean he’d try again every so often.

No matter how many disappointments you gave him after each rejection, he never once gave up.

You knew the man was a man-whore, never one to take a relationship serious, which is why you also declined his offer. Not that you’d ever want a relationship with him. Hell, the thought of possible being in a relationship with him only made you scrunch your face in disgust. He was a friend to you, nothing else.

“Oh (Y/n) (L/n) you fill my soul just a little more each day,” Says Graves, hand planted on his chest as he pouts his bottom lip at you,

“Good. Because one of us has to be the brightness in this friendship,” You give him a smile as you walk through the black gates of the apartment complex,

Other Shadow men and woman can be found passed the gates. Some spoke to one another in the lobby, sitting on the beaten down couch, smoking, drinking, eating, cracking jokes. The apartment was everyone’s safe space. Where they can unwind, relax after completing their tasks, sleep in their proper quarters before having to get up before or at crack of dawn to start their rounds once again. Although, since civilians keep joining the team and the apartments had limited rooms, some soldiers unfortunately had to bunk with other soldiers.

Thankfully, the higher the rank one was, the privilege they had in having their own rooms. Hence, you and Graves.

You both slept on the 7th floor. Overlooking the entire safe zone. Getting a perfect view of the once beautiful city of Chicago. Yet, despite the view and the single apartment you had, you still hated the fact that you had to climb seven flights of stairs to get to your door. It was times like these that you loathed living on the highest floor.

Your legs shook as you climbed the stairs, even considered asking Graves to piggyback you to your floor but you knew that man would you haunt with that memory till the day he dies. And you knew he wouldn’t stop there. As stubborn as that man is he’ll find you in the afterlife and torment you for existence.

So, with an annoyed huff you climbed the rest of the stairs till you made it to your door.

“See you in a few hours,” You hear Graves as he walks further down the hallway, not sparing him a glance you simply wave at him as you push open your door,

Your apartment was decent. Well.. decent as it’ll ever be in times like these. Once entering the small living space, a small hallway greets you with cracked walls, the paint chipping off on either side with smudges of dirt or mud. Once walking further into the home it looked… more decent. A broken tv hung on the wall next to some windows, which some were boarded up as they didn’t have a window— which you were in the process of fixing them somehow— next, there was a single beaten down brown love seat against the wall towards the entrance. A medium coffee table stood in front of the loveseat with your AR-15 leaning against it. Then a medium size generator leaning against the opposite wall where you hung a metal bat on the wall as some sort of prize.

As mentioned, the living room seemed a little more decent, the kitchen however was just a mess with your armory. Guns and cases of bullets engulfed the kitchen. You never made or ate your food in your apartment, you mostly ate at Taz’s Diner where everyone ate together. So it was pointless to have a kitchen when it was never used for cooking, so you made it into your armory instead.

Now going towards your room where you can rest was slightly in better shape. In the center of the room laid your king size bed— something that Graves personally found for you one day while out on patrol, the ever so kind man he was. Grey and orange bedsheets laid on top of the comforter, a brick wall stood behind the bed that had a couple shelves with multiple books. It was another way to destress yourself, minus the working out or going to kill some loitering Zeds, books has always been helpful. So you’d collect as many you can find, causing you to have a mess of stacked books on your shelves.

It surprises you how they’ve managed to hold on for this long or how they haven’t collapsed on you as you slept.

A few more trinkets can be found in your room that you’ve either found or was gifted by some close friends, close civilians or Graves.

You tried to limit your collections, only wanting to keep things that seemed important or useful, yet, books were the only exception.

A metal desk leaned against the wall across the bed. Maps, bullets, a couple parts from guns, dirty rags, tape, tools and markers were scattered on the desk. Then right next to it was your window to the view of the overrun city of Chicago. Some buildings and sections of the safe zone was brought back to life, small dimmed string lights can be seen from your room, then passed the safe zone remained the cold, dark side of Chicago. Every so often you sit on your window sill, cigarette in your mouth as you scan the view, the expanding life just a few floors down, then back to the destroyed city where your mind would often get trapped in the past. Remembering nightmares you wish would vanish from your mind, including the good memories.

They were nothing but pain. It was never good to remember the past, because it reminded you what you once had, what you lost. And those were the nightmares you tried avoiding.

So, shaking the thoughts away, you shrug off your tactical vest, your heavy boots, holsters, jacket, and your tactical belt before falling face first on your mattress. Causing the poor comforter to make a loud noise from the force fall, something you could care less at the moment, all you cared for was sleep.

Nightmares or not, you were getting your sleep.

****

October 19, 2026

S. C. H. Q

0430 am

“You seen Graves?” You ask a soldier, Portman, was his name, as he sat inside a humvee. He simply points in the direction of a tent,

“The General asked to speak to him,” The young soldier says,

With knitted brows you sip your warm, very warm coffee as you make your way towards the tent. Why would he ask for him? Is he changing the plans last minute? If so why weren’t I involved in the conversation? Question after question popped in your head as you make your way through other soldiers to get to the tent. However, just as you rounded the corner of other parked vehicles you hear faint, but loud enough whispers to know people were talking to one another. Your brows knit tighter once more, trying to figure out what was being said but before you can even walk inside, Troy— one of Graves’ idiotic friends who you loathed— steps outside. His face expression showing distaste when he meets your gaze. Yet, not a moment later Graves steps outside with an oddly distant look. Brows knitted together almost in a frown, however once his eyes land on you they instantly change. As if nothing happened.

Why the fuck was Troy apart of the conversation?

“There you are! Beginning to think I had to drag your ass out of bed,” He claims as he fixes his vest,

You give both men a wary look. Your eyes averting from them to the tent behind his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” Graves shakes his head with an annoyed look,

“Busting my balls it’s all,”

“Regarding?” You ask, brow slightly raised,

“None of your concern,” Troy comments, causing you to glare at him, yet before you can argue back Graves is pulling you away from him by wrapping an arm around your shoulders,

However, you still throw the piece of shit a raised finger as you’re forced to walk away.

As Graves lead you towards the trucks you asked again if everything was alright. You knew the General was a miserable old dog at times and would give shit to anyone he decided to target, so you knew what Graves felt at the moment. However, you couldn’t wrap your head around anything Graves has done wrong in the past few days or weeks. So it just seemed off.

“Don’t worry bout’ it sugar. It’s handled,” The man smirks down at you when he sees the way a mask of annoyance hovers over your face at his pet name,

Oh how he knew how much you loathed that pet name and oh how much he loved using it to simply get a rise out of you.

“You’re lucky I’m sleep deprived otherwise I’d toss this whole cup of coffee on you,” Your comment earns a loud chuckle from him,

“Thank god to your lack of sleep then,” He claims as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you both towards the humvee’s where soldiers were loading in,

After another 5 to 10 minutes of briefing the soldiers of the mission, loading the trucks of empty duffle bags for medical supplies, checking and counting ammunition for every rifle, everyone began climbing into the trucks.

Once you checked your vest multiple times, checked each component, your extra magazines, your holsters, your combat knives that you had tucked behind your back, drank your cup of coffee before pouring another one, you finally climb into the passenger seat while Graves took the drivers side.

Once signaling the man you were ready, he shifts the gear before feeling the truck moving down the road. You stare out the window, watching kids wave goodbye as their parents stood right behind them, a small smile tugs on your lips as you notice their proud, wide smiles as they wave goodbye. Yet, your heart also gets pulled on by sadness at the fact they are living in a world with such cruel conditions, instead of the happy, semi-safe world it use to be. Now, they had to fight to survive. They had to become soldiers to survive and help protect their new home.

“ETA to Red Lines is approximately an hour ladies and gentlemen. Keep your eyes pealed for any movement, safeties off once out of the safe zone,” Your thoughts are interrupted by Graves speaking into the radio,

‘Rog,’

‘Copy,’

‘Copy that sir,’

Multiple voices can be heard through the radio as they announce their confirmation.

“Get some shut eye Kali. I’ll wake you up for whatever reason,” Graves calls you by your callsign before voicing his offer, his eyes focused down the road,

No matter how heavenly that sounded, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. He needed an extra pair of eyes looking after him, after the team. Plus, if you were the last to survive Shepherd would have your head if he found out his team got killed because you wanted to get some extra sleep on the road.

“No I’m good,” You respond, slowly sipping on your coffee,

Graves turns to look at you, observing your sleep deprived frame before looking back towards the road. Just staring at you alone made him exhausted. You needed sleep and he’d forcefully put you to sleep if that’s what it took to make you catch some extra hours.

“(Y/n) seriously, gets some sleep. I’ll wake you when I need you,” He tries again, voice calm and comforting as his baby blues look into yours,

You softly chuckle, appreciating his concern, “I’m okay. M’not that tired anymore,”

That was a total lie.

Because after 10 minutes of driving down the dark, destroyed, abandoned roads of Chicago you swiftly dozed off. Empty coffee cup nearly falling out of your hands if it wasn’t for Graves’ quick reflexes.

The man slightly chuckles at you as he observes your sleeping frame before focusing his eyes back on the road. He knew you trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, to have faith in him in keeping you both alive when one was resting. He hoped it’d remained that way. But deep down, he knew it won’t, not after today. He knew it was going to be a difficult decision if you don’t come around the new regulations that Shepherd will have back at base.

The rules made sense. But he just knew you’d be against it. And that alone brought an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

*****

Red Lines

0800

“Alright, Eagle 3 stays out here. Keep watch for any movement. Eagle 1 you’ll take care of building A. Find anything valuable that we need. Eagle 2 you’re with me and Lieutenant Kali. We’ll scope the bottom before making our way to the pharmacy unit,” Graves lays down the orders, looking at every soldier who simply nods back at him,

You on the other hand couldn’t help the annoyed look on your face when Troy would be tagging along with you and Graves. You’d rather much get chased by a group of Zeds than walk beside him. That man was not to be trusted by any means.

“If things get too complicated you retreat. Whatever you find is whatever we’ll take. Got it?” You join on the orders, receiving more nods from the soldiers,

“Remember. Safeties off. If anything moves you shoot to kill,” Graves says once again before sending everyone to their positions,

Meeting Graves’ gaze you send him a nod before following him up the stairs that lead to the hospital building. Once inside the lobby, Eagle 1 slowly and quietly parts away to checkout their side of the building. Guns raised and ready to fire. From the corner of your eye you watch them walk past the doors before disappearing from your sight. Once the lobby was clear to move forward, you and Graves lead the rest of the soldiers down the hallway.

As you made your way down the hospital you kept your gun tight to your shoulder, finger off the trigger but close enough to be used in case of anything. You and the group slowly and quietly searched each room. Your eyes cautiously scanned every inch of the place, noticing just how rough this hospital had gone through after the outbreak.

Hospital beds, equipment, papers, wheel chairs, broken windows, everything you can possibly think of was scattered across the floor, the hallways. The ceiling tiles were broken, wires hung from above, vines somehow made their way inside the hospital and have overtook the walls, the entire hospital was out of power but emergency lights still flashed, casting a red bright glow throughout the building.

However, the further your group walked into the building the worst everything got. Blood stains coated the floors, the walls, bodies that have been dead for months maybe years were left on the ground. Yet, what made everyone on edge and more cautious of their surroundings was how fresh some blood stains were. Everyone kept close watch on everything, every corner and every room.

Luckily, no living dead was seen, yet, causing you to reach the pharmacy wing with no issue. Although, it still didn’t mean everyone was safe, they still had to stay cautious.

Yet despite scanning the pharmacy for any danger, no one noticed a pair of white frosty eyes watching them in a dark corner the whole time. Watching a specific person in the group.

While two soldiers kept watch on the entrance of the door, the rest of you tossed as much medicine as you can into black duffel bags.

“Bronx start piling these bags on something with wheels,” You call out to the soldier who kept watch as you start on your second duffle, throwing variety of medical supplies inside,

From alcohol wipes, rubbing alcohol bottles, medical bandages, band-aides, any working thermometers, stethoscopes as a request from some doctors back at base, anything you saw that was of use you’d toss it in the bag. As you helped Graves carry another loaded bag onto a medical trolley that Bronx has brought from somewhere in the room, a faint noise coming from outside the double doors has everyone stopping.

“Anyone hear that?” Silo, another soldier that was placing pill bottles inside her duffle calls out,

“I did. We should bail Graves,” Troy claims, eyes directed at the doors,

“Negative, we’ve got orders,” You demand the soldier. Ignoring his words you continue tossing items inside the duffle,

With a grunt the man goes to place the duffle bag on the trolley, mumbling words underneath his breath which was most likely directed towards you but you continue to ignore him like any other day. As Troy placed his bag amongst the other filled bags, another noise that sounded like glass being stepped on comes from outside the doors, catching everyone’s attention again.

“I’m telling you something’s out there,” Silo repeats again, taking a step away from the doors, weapon slightly raised,

The sound of a shot gun being pumped rings in the air, “Graves, let’s bail!” Troy harshly growls as he points his gun towards the door,

Your own ears heard the noise, causing your blood to run cold. But you knew the base was running low on everything. You were already here, at least three bags worth of medical supplies, you couldn’t just leave them. Not when people, families, kids are slowly suffering and possibly dying. You had to take it back with you.

The stores that you’ve checked before coming to Red Lines were no use. Everything had been cleared, leaving every shelve empty. So you had to go back to base with something.

“We have orders Troy!” You remind the man as Graves slowly walks towards the double doors, rifle of his own pointing upwards, finger ready on the trigger for anything,

Troy only throws a scoff at you, “Fuck the orders!”

Jesus he’s more of a fucking pussy than I thought. You think to yourself as you turn to face the man, who still had his shot gun up in the air. Signs of sweat lingered on his temple.

“Fuck you! Families are at stake they need medicine!”

“That’s my point! None of this matters anymore they’re all gonna die anyways!”

Now that raised a flag.

“What?”

“Troy shut up that’s enough!” The look of panic and anger on Graves face raised more flags, what the hell were they hiding?

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Graves looks at you, that same odd look in his eyes from earlier was back, but he simply shakes his head with closed eyes,

“Nothing! Look, there’s nothing out there alright everyone just needs to stop being fucking paranoi—,”

“Phil!” You scream just as you see a large herd of Lurkers and Runners pushing through the doors,

Graves was able to slam the butt of his rifle towards the first Zed reaching towards him, sending him on the ground as he’s quick to shoot the rest.

“Aim for their heads!” You hear him scream as bullets begin flying in the small pharmaceutical,

In less than a second mayhem irrupted. Snarls, growls, screams, pained screams, bullets, windows, glass shattering can be heard in the building. Whatever medical supplies were left had been pushed off the counters or damaged by bullets as the living dead attacked. You had unloaded a whole magazine on the dead causing you to reach for your belt to grab another mag when you glance around the horrific sight unfolding in front of you. Multiple soldiers had been pinned in the corners by herds, pained screams surrounded the pharmaceutical as each soldier got mauled by the living dead.

You watched with wide eyes as you see one young soldier being dragged towards the back of the building by a herd, you go to reach for his wailing hands but before you can grab ahold of them you’re being slammed against the counter. A grunt rumbles in your throat when something digs into your hip, causing pain to travel up your side.

Turning, your met with the most gruesome face inches away from your own.

A runner in the process of forming into a Ghoul. His skin grey and rotten. Patches of skin missing or peeling from its face, blood either fresh and dry stained his entire torso. His mouth. Eyes wild and wide as it tries to latch its teeth onto you. Which you’d like to point out, most of his mouth was completely missing. Only bits and pieces of skin held it upright, giving you a disgusting and traumatic view of his teeth as he growled and snarled.

You groaned out loud as you try pushing the runner off of you. Doing your best in forcing his face away from you by placing your hand under his neck, forcing it away from you, your legs struggling to also kick him away from you. But it was no use because he was ravenous for you, causing him to use all his strength to mark you, eat you. Although, noticing how you’ll probably get bit by this piece of shit if you don’t fight hard enough, adrenaline rises in your veins, giving you enough strength to push him backwards till you slam it against the other counter. Bottles of pills, liquids of you don’t know what the fuck fall from the top shelve, some of it landing around you both or on you as you both struggle with each other.

But as you fought with the runner you somehow lose your balance, causing you to fall backwards, bringing the dead with you.

Another pained groan rumbles in your throat as the weight that falls on top of you nearly takes out all the air from your lungs, but with the little strength you had, you held the runner above you. Away from your skin. But your arms were quickly growing tired, causing an angered, frustrated, slightly fearful yell to fall from your lips. You cannot die this way.

However, before the dead can get a taste of your throat you feel him being pushed off you. Confusion settles on your face at the sudden moment, but is soon replaced with another feeling. Fear and worry as you see a tall, very tall being nearly hovering above you. The bright glowing red light illuminates his features, giving you a glimpse of a skull mask. From where you were on the ground you noticed military gear covered his entire frame, however fear—panic overtakes your body when you noticed this military man was not in fact alive. No. He was infected. The blood and slightly rotten skin was enough proof for you.

As the dead inches closer towards you, you instinctively crawl away from him. Trying to get away from him, away from his ravenous state. You even managed to throw your knife at him while crawling away, causing it to latch onto his right shoulder, yet he only pulls it off with no care in the world as he continues inching closer to you. Crawling away quickly turns into you curling into a ball when he suddenly launches at you. As you waited for the end in a tight ball, your eyes are quick to shoot open when you never see it. In fact, you turn around when you see the tall infected military man fighting off a Ghoul that was apparently fighting him to grab onto you.

Not thinking much about the odd situation you quickly rise to your feet before running to grab your rifle from the floor.

Just as you grip the gun, a pair of strong arms clasping around your shoulders brings a shriek along with a jolt from you. You go to punch the infected, but Graves quickly spins you around to look directly in your eyes.

“We gotta go!” He yells over the ongoing commotion and without any hesitation he drags you by the arm to leave the death trap,

You quickly follow him, but just as you jump over the fallen trolley you stop to quickly pick up a duffle bag that had medical supplies before continuing in following him out the building. Graves yells at you to fucking run for your life, literally, as more horrific shrieks and snarls echo throughout the hospital as you, Graves and of course Troy run down the hallways.

More bullets fly in the air as the three of you shoot any oncoming herds. Felt like a never ending nightmare, but the three of you eventually make it outside. Where Eagle 3 had been mauled to death.

“Fucking Zeds!” Graves curses underneath his breath at the horrific sight,

Blood, lots of blood coated the pavement. Limbs, ripped intestines were scattered throughout the floor, turning your stomach as you scan the gruesome scene. If you had the time you’d definitely puke your coffee and protein bars, but your life was literally at stake. No time to puke your guts.

No pun intended.

“Fucking bastards! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you! Come on!” The sound of Troy yelling like a complete maniac brings you out of your thoughts,

“Troy get your ass in the truck!” Graves yells from inside the humvee, already igniting the ignition and placing the gear in drive,

Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you grab ahold of Troy’s tactical vest before dragging him towards the truck. Who was still yelling harmless profanities to the infected, who by the way were rapidly forcing themselves out of the building, causing you to push the idiot inside the humvee before quickly climbing inside yourself. The moment the door shuts Graves all but burns rubber on the pavement, leaving the herd of dead running after the truck.

*******

S.C.H.Q

1000 am

“I’m telling you sir, everything turned into a shit show,” Graves explains once again, exhaustion written on his face as he rests his hands on either side of his hips, “There was nothing we could’ve done. Sons of bitches ambushed us,”

“Goddamn it Graves,” Shepherd growls under his breath as he massages his forehead,

“With all do respect sir, you knew what we were walking into. That place is just damn near impossible to get through. We’re lucky enough to even stand here and tell you it was a failed mission,” You go to defend the Texan, earning a small glare from the old dog,

“Not lucky enough. Not everyone made it back,” You hear Troy behind you, feeling irritation rise in your chest. He’s been such a fucking Parrot since you’ve arrived at base,

But like usual, you ignore him, not even sparing him a glance. Yet, he still kept going. You hear him push off the wall as he walks closer to the group huddled around the Generals’ desk.

“My men would still be here if you’d just listen to me. But no! You just had to keep fucking grabbing medicine did ya!”

“Well excuse me for wanting to fucking save lives! For doing my goddamn job!” You yell back, facing the man to stare directly into those dark, coward, brown eyes of his,

“Yeah? Well look what that got us! One duffle bag filled with medical supplies that’ll not even last a week and the lives of soldiers lost because you wanted to save people who aren’t worth saving anymore!!” The moment those words left his mouth, your fist was quick to make contact with his left cheek. He stumbles backwards against some chairs.

Everything you were feeling; exhaustion, hunger, rage, adrenaline, annoyance, irritation, all of it had combined. Causing you to lash out. Physically. Besides, he’s had coming.

“That’s enough! Both of you!!” Graves once again is pulling you away from the man storming at you,

Although, Troy wasn’t close to reach or touch you because Graves had placed a firm hand on his chest, forcing him to take a step back.

“Now you listen here Lieutenants!” Shepherd announces with a dark tone, rising from his chair he fixes his uniform before walking around the desk, “I understand this is a tough situation on both your parts, but killing each other won’t bring anyone justice!”

“But what I do need is both of you to be on the same page! I’m already dealin’ with a herd of sick, panicked folks out there demanding for any sort of help! The last thing I need is to deal with both of your childlike behavior!”

You send a small glare to Shepherd from the corner of your eye before bringing your fuming orbs to the idiotic dirty blonde head. Who now sported a small gash on his bottom lip, bringing some sort of satisfaction knowing it was you who caused the small gash.

“Now I know we’re all frustrated and stressed about all this mess. But we gotta keep our heads on straight! So with that being said, Lieutenant Lennon go on and catch a breather. Lieutenant (L/N) you’re dismissed. Get some shut eye, I know you need it,” Shepherd orders with a cold, firm tone, eyes challenging you, “You’re dismissed Lieutenant. We’ll spell you later on in the night,”

You don’t argue. Mostly because Graves gives your arm a slight shove with his elbow, a message to just let it go and follow orders. So you do just that. Not sparing either men a glance you storm out the office, the door slamming shut, rattling the windows with its force. Not stopping, you head down towards the steps of the building, ignoring other soldiers standing on guard or the looks directed your way, you just kept walking till you eventually reached outside. The fresh air hitting your heated skin.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath through your nose. Holding it for a few seconds before exhaling deeply through your mouth.

This whole morning was a fucking shit-show and you blamed no one else other than Shepherd. If he wasn’t so obsessed in overtaking Red Lines, everyone from your squad would have been alive. If he’d just send your troop to another location that hadn’t been touched before, none of this mess would have happened.

More time is being wasted, more lives are being taken by a goddamn flu that this base has no medical care for, especially now since the mission was a failure and whatever was inside the duffle was not going to be enough. If you were feeling stressed before then this only made your shoulders heavier at the thought of multiple families slowly dying for the lack of medical care.

“I’m assuming the mission didn’t go as planned?” A soft voice coming from your left has you opening your eyes,

Sandy. One of your closest friends’ girlfriend stood beside you. Her blonde hair held in a messy bun as she wore a grey coat, light brown long sleeve underneath with some old brown timberland boots on her feet. You observed her features, trying to see any signs of sickness and immediately feeling relief when she looked completely fine. Your eyes then fall down to the little boy by her side, bright green eyes looking up at you with a wide smile. You smile down at him, ruffling his short dirty blonde locks.

“Was a fucking disaster,” You mumble under your breath, locking eyes with the woman,

She gives you a small saddened smile, one hand reaching out to your arm to give you reassurance while the other cradled her growing bump.

“All that matters now is that you’re back. That you’re alive,” Sandy states with the same warm smile,

You give her a small smile as you look down at her hand rubbing soft circles on her stomach, “How’s the nugget?”

Sandy’s smile widens, “He’s good. Kickin’ and punchin’ in there. Think he wants out already,”

You chuckle at her response, “Just like his father. Stubborn as hell,”

Sandy softly chuckles. A glimpse of sorrow hovering over her eyes at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. But you knew she was strong, stronger than you that’s for sure because she pushed down the growing ball in her throat and continued smiling at you.

“Listen.. whatever we brought it’s.. it’s not enough. So regardless if you both aren’t sick.. just go to medic. Better safe than sorry,” You tell her with a small smile, which she returns, appreciation written on her face for your constant help,

She truly did appreciate everything you’ve done for both of them after Billy had passed away. At first she didn’t need your pity, but once she saw you were determined in keeping Billy’s promise, she slowly began opening to you. A bond was soon formed between you three, and you absolutely cherished it.

After kindly declining her offer in grabbing some breakfast with them—considering that’s where they were heading in the first place before running into you— you wave them goodbye before heading towards the Shadow Company’s apartments. Looks from multiple soldiers were sent your way, word had traveled fast about the failed mission which you weren’t surprised about, but still grew annoyed for this squads loud mouth. Nothing is ever kept a secret. Yet, you held your head high, giving dark threatening glares at soldiers who dared look your way, making them look the other way with a panicked expression in their eyes.

It felt like an eternity when you finally made it to your private quarters. Once the door was shut and locked behind you. You toss your keys somewhere on a nearby couch, placed your rifle against the coffee table, start to shrug off your boots and vest before making your way towards the bedroom. Where you fall face first on the mattress, slightly rattling your shelves from the rough impact, although at that moment you could care less if they decide to give its last breath and have it crumble on top of you.

You just needed sleep.

And that’s exactly what you got. Within five or so minutes you start to drift away, the sound of heavy rain beginning to pour just outside your window helps your exhaustion take over your body, helps the stress from yours shoulders to disperse for the time being and sending you into another deep, dreamless sleep.

++++

1900

BANG!

BANG!

The loud, extremely loud noise has you bolting from your bed. Your breath uneven as you scan your surroundings. Your bedroom remained still, only the sounds of rain hitting against your window can be heard, but before you can calm yourself, convince yourself it was just another nightmare you hear it once again. Only difference it has you jumping from bed when those loud sounds were familiar sounds of gunfire. With quick movements you slip on your boots before darting outside the bedroom, you quickly grip your rifle before running out the door.

The hallways were empty, but as you hurried down the steps, it was then you began hearing muffled screams, which then grew much louder and clearer that sent a dark shiver down your spine the moment you stepped outside into the pouring rain. It was absolute chaos outside. People were desperately running from something, someone, while others sought for safety. You tried asking a civilian for answers but they only pleaded with you with a frightening look as they ran away from you

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you watch them bolt down the road, but your eyes wildly turn at the sound of more horrific screams,

Your eyes grow wide as you catch a Shadow dragging a woman by her hair as she screams and pleads with them. Immediately, you ran towards the commotion where you roughly shove the soldier away, causing him to lose his balance. “What the hell are you doing?!”

His eyes stare at you with confusion, determination, yet they also had uncertainty and fear in them, “Following orders!”

“What?!” You yell the same time when more frightful pleads and screams are heard before hearing another round of gunfire echoing down the street,

The loud, piercing noise has you flinching, but nonetheless run towards the rapid fire. Your feet come to a complete stop when you see the horrific sight in front of you. Inside a gate we’re at least five Shadows with rifles, but your stomach turns when your eyes land on the pile of bodies that were stacked upon each other. The sight alone has a gasp falling from your lips, never in a million years did you think your team would be slaughtering civilians. Civilians and..kids.

The moment you see soldiers lining another group of people, along with kids, you run towards the gated area.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You demand out loud as you shove the soldier that was about to raise his rifle,

Taken aback by your sudden presence and sudden shove, his eyes were just as wide and frantic as yours. Even with a mask covering most of his face you can see the horror in his face. “G-General Shepherd, Lieutenant. He’s ordered a sweep of the community,”

“A what?!” You question with genuine confusion and horror,

You should have seen it coming, of course the old man would do something like this to keep himself safe and away from any sort of danger. But killing innocent lives? You knew Shepherd was crazy with his risky motives, but now, you were convinced he had finally lost it.

Yet, before you can demand him to put the rifle away and free the civilians, a loud voice is calling after you. Turning around, your met with another soldier jogging after you.

“Lieutenant (L/N), General Shepherd wants you in his office. It’s urgent,”

“Damn right it’s fucking urgent!” You growl at him then turn back to the man who still had his rifle in his hand, “I don’t know what kind of shit ass order he gave you, but that’s enough! Let these people go,”

Just as you turn to walk with the other man, a voice is calling after you, “But Lieutenant.. General Shep—,”

“General Sheperd has lost his goddamn mind!!” You yell over the pouring rain, your eyes firm and angry, “Now I’ve ordered you, to stand. Down!”

The soldier hesitates to lower his weapon, even spares a glance to the other soldiers who stood by with the same hesitance, but they all eventually lower their weapons and allow the civilians to leave from the gate. All of them sprint away with frightened screams, once you knew not a single soul was apprehended you followed the soldier to the building where the piece of shit was. Although, you couldn’t deny the uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of your stomach, you knew something bad was soon to come.

As you made your way through the streets, the streets that were once filled with certainty, safety, and joy, were now filled with absolute darkness and silence. Only the sound of the pouring rain surrounding you can be heard, along with faint screams coming here and there. You eventually make it to the top of the building where you shove open the door to his office, causing it to roughly collide with the glass window.

“Wanna explain to me why we’re killing half the fucking community?!” You yell as you march towards the desk where the old dog sat with a grim look,

Other soldiers who were nearby took a step closer towards you, indicating they’d hold you down if you’d tried anything.

Troy stood right beside Shepherd, his hands clasped behind his back as he glared at your storming frame. You also didn’t miss the way he takes a step forward in a protective manner, which makes you tighten your hold on your rifle. Your eyes then turn to the left of the office where Graves leaned against a stack of piled cases, his own rifle hung around his neck, dangling in front of his body, but it was his eyes that had a unfamiliar dark look in them.

“Lieutenant, I need you to calm down,” Shepard orders, his voice horsed as he spoke to you,

“Calm?— calm down?! You just ordered to kill innocent lives! How the fuck do you expect me to calm down!” You scream, your voice bouncing off the walls as you step closer to the desk, but hands gripping on your elbows has you halting your steps,

“Because Lieutenant, what I’m about to tell you is something I need you to understand!” Shepherd sternly states as he slowly rises from his chair, his eyes looking at you as you shrug off the soldiers,

“Understand what?! That we’re becoming mercenaries?!”

“Understand that this goddamn flu we got going on is only becoming more of a problem!” The old man starts, he remains behind his desk as he continues, “More lives are being infected with this flu every god forsaking minute and we don’t have the medical equipment to cure it!”

You shrug your shoulders from frustration and rage, “So what?! So that means you have to start killing people for it?! What happened to isolation?! Or quarantining the sick?!”

“Quarantine won’t do any justice here!” Troy joins in, his gaze firm as he continues standing by the General’s side, “Like General Shepherd said, everyone is being infected by the second. We need to kill the sick to kill the flu!”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe Graves was allowing this! All he did was stay quiet throughout the whole argument, just switching his gaze from you to Shepherd to Troy then back to you. After everything you’ve all been through, every near death experience, this was how your relationship would end? He wouldn’t try and attempt to back you on this? How can he agree with them? How can he kill in cold blood? What happed to him?

“Does that also include children?! Innocent children?!” You yell at every man in the room, but your eyes land on Shepherd when he inhales deeply through his nose, his shoulders straightening as he looks directly in your eyes,

“Whatever it takes. Lieutenant,” Your blood boiled in your veins at his words,

Your anger, hatred, frustration, exhaustion, everything you were feeling at the moment, you let it take over. Your vision immediately gets clouded with pure white hot rage, your heart pounded in your ears, the hair on your arms raised as your hands shook.

End him. Fucking kill him! He’ll never get away this.

“You crazy old fuck!!” You yell as you raise your rifle in the air, the barrel directed towards Shepherd, his eyes wide as he stares at you,

The situation had escalated rather fast. Your finger pressed the trigger with no hesitation, igniting the chamber to go off, but just as you had raised the gun towards the man and just as you pressed it, someone is knocking the rifle out of your hands. Because of this, the bullet only clipped Shepherd on his left shoulder. Which still had him stumbling backwards against the wall as he clutched onto his injured shoulder.

Almost immediately as the rifle fell to the ground, you feel large hands grasping your arms, but you quickly fight them off by twisting from their hold and snapping one of their arms, bringing an agony scream from them. It was then you realized it was another Shadow.

Yet, just as you hurt one soldier, more pair of hands are grabbing ahold of you, forcing you to the ground but your body was filled with adrenaline, rage that you used it to push against them. You roughly knock your shoulder against another Shadow’s firm chest, sending him tumbling back towards the other that had held onto you.

The moment both of them had fell to the ground, Troy was next in grabbing onto you. He gripped your hair as he pulled your head backwards, earning a pained scream from you. He threatened you disgustingly close in your ear that only seemed to intensified your rage, so with your free arm, you let your fist connect with his face once again where you hear a cracking sound before seeing him tumbling backwards against the wall. His hands reached up to his bloody nose as he groaned in pain.

“(Y/n)! Stop!” You hear Graves’ scream, your eyes avert to the Texan, noticing then he had his rifle pointing at you but held out a hand as his blue eyes pleaded with you,

It was at his moment that you knew, he’d shoot you if ordered too.

You stared at him with hurt, angered, betrayed eyes. How can he possibly allow this to happen? Why would he allow this to happen? You knew Graves would often do so some shady stuff or risk his life in order to get the job done, but this?! This was beyond not okay. This was not the Philip Graves you knew.

“Troy don’t!” Graves yells, his eyes wide as he watches the man behind your shoulder,

The moment the words leave his mouth you quickly turn to bolt out the office just as bullets start to fly. A bullet still manages to get lodged in your right upper arm as you ran out the door, but it wasn’t enough to halt your steps, instead it only heightened your adrenaline to run faster down the hallway. That was until you see more soldier running down your way, causing you to push through a random door just as their own rifles start sending live rounds your way. It felt like an eternity of you running through the building, dodging numerous bullets with your name on it, fighting Shadows who only ended up getting their life ripped from them by your own hands, but you eventually make it out the building. Except it wasn’t in a nice way.

Just as you had gotten to the second floor of the building and were focused on running down the hallway, one of Shepherds soldiers had caught you by surprise. He had emerged from a dark corner and had tackled you against the window, shattering it on impact. You fought him for a few minutes before you see him lunge at you in frustration, sending you both flying out the window. The both of you tumble down the second floors rooftop before landing roughly on the street. You groaned heavily as you laid under the pouring rain, your entire body flared with pain as you laid on the ground gathering your breath. But a voice in your head screams at you to get up. It took some strength, but you eventually pull yourself up and off the ground.

It was then as you slowly got to your feet that you noticed the man you were fighting with didn’t have the same luck as you. He had landed on nearby humvee, where you had landed on a tent filled with crates and cardboard boxes. Still wasn’t a painless fall, but at least you survived it.

With a hand clutching onto your aching abdomen, you limp away from the building, but the moment you had gotten a few feet away from said building, more shots are being fired in the air, forcing you to run through your pain.

You ran through crowds of people who were also running scared in different directions as those sons of bitches fired away. Not caring if they shot an innocent life, not caring if they shot innocent children, they didn’t care what was in front of them just as long as they got their job done. And their job was capturing you. Alive. Alongside “sweeping” the community.

But from the looks of it they had excuses ready to share to Shepherd on why they wouldn’t be able to bring you in alive.

Fearful screams are heard all around you as you ran through terrified crowds. Slightly being shoved or tripped by the civilians as they ran anywhere to find safety, fearing for their lives. You didn’t blame them. This was supposed to be a community where it should have felt safe for them, where they can rebuilt themselves, where they can depend on to stay alive, now they tried finding any escape to survive from those murdering cunts.

You ran as fast as you can to a dark alley where it led to a barricaded tunnel, the tunnel that led outside the headquarters. A tunnel that nobody knew about. A tunnel you had created as an emergency escape, no matter the situation. Whether it was an attack from Looters, from other rival groups, from Zeds, or in your case at the moment. Being captured and killed by your very own team who you thought was your family.

With quick movements you pull apart the gate from the floor, causing a small opening to get to the other side. The muddy floor covered your tactical gear as you forced your way into the small opening, huffing and puffing as you used whatever energy you had left to escape. Just as a flashlight points down towards the alley you were already on your feet running down the tunnel. Looking behind your shoulder you see more lights running your way, which only caused you to run faster. Once out the tunnel you turn to your left to head further away from the base, careful to stick to the shadows as you see more soldiers outside the base in guard. Pointing their lights to see if they find anything, anyone.

After what seemed like eons of dodging their spotlights, you quickly run further down the streets, however, just as you thought you were at a safe distance, before you can even process it somebody had tackled you down. A loud groan falls from your lips as you land painfully on your ribs, again. The captor who had tackled you fought with you, forcing you to turn around as he tried his best in zip tying your hands together, but of course you fought back. With irritation of not being able to control your squirming frame, the soldier forces you to turn forward right before letting the butt of his rifle land a heavy strike on your face. Causing your world to spin for a hot second.

“Eagle to base, I’ve got her. I repeat, I’ve apprehended Lieutenant Kali,” You hear him say into the cold night air, your mind slightly still dazed from the brutal blow to the head,

You didn’t know what the other person in the radio orders him to do, but knew it was nothing good because you see him nod before slowly making his way towards you. You tried crawling away from him, despite the blood trickling down the side of your temple and dizziness clouding your mind, you tried your best in moving away from him. But it was no use because he was quick to grip you from your ankles before roughly dragging you against the floor till he hovered above you, however, before he can do you any more harm he’s suddenly being tackled to the ground by a dark figure.

A brutal scream is being irrupted into the dark sky as the dark figure eats away at the soldier. Fuck. Holy shit. You think to yourself as you remain frozen on the floor, watching the gory scene unfold right in front of you. It didn’t take long for the screams to die out. Just when they did, the dark figure rises from the floor and slowly turns to you. It was then you noticed it was the same Zed from earlier. The one from the hospital. Your brows knit together in confusion, not quite understanding how he was standing right in front of you, just a few feet away. Did he follow us? You think once again, but before the Zed can try and pounce at you too the sound of more Shadow Company’s soldiers come running down the street, catching both yours and the Zeds attention. Using the opportunity of him looking down at the group of soldiers running your way, you quickly rise to your feet before bolting further down the street. Away from the soldiers, away from the flesh eating zombie.

Because if it wasn’t bullets that would kill you, it would be in the cold hands of the Zed.

You ran without looking back. Not really caring where you were heading, you just knew you had to get somewhere safe. So you ran down the darken streets of Chicago, the streets that were once filled with noise and joy, now they stood in cold frozen silence as the fungus eats away at the buildings and streets. Vines overtaking numerous houses, buildings, burnt cars, making it look indeed out of a horror movie.

After running aimlessly down the roads and cutting through multiple buildings without looking behind your shoulder, you squeeze through a broken down garage door that led to the other side of the home. However, just as you managed to fit through and turned to run once again, your feet come to an abrupt stop when your eyes land on a large herd of zombies.

Neither of them had noticed you yet. But it wouldn’t be long for them to pick up your scent and started chasing you, so to avoid that at all costs, you slowly begin to backtrack your steps as quietly as possible. But just as you moved a leg you see a creeper coming from the corner, noticing how he desperately begins sniffing the air, causing his dead buddies to do the same as they try following your scent.

Panic rises in your chest as you watch them slowly turn in your direction, but before they can get a visual of you a large cold hand covers your mouth, earning a muffled scream as you feel a firm arm wrap around your shoulders and hauling you out of their sight. Fear and adrenaline rushes in your veins as you try fighting the Zed, mentally preparing that this is how you die, this is how you’ll get infected. Despite you still trying to wiggle yourself out of the strong arms, you knew this was the end. After so many years of fighting to stay alive, so many bullets you’ve caught, so many lives you took, this was your end. None of it mattered anymore.

As you continued to fight your way out of his hold, you feel the way his hand tightens around your mouth the same time he pins you closer towards his chest. Noticing the way the heard of Zeds and Creepers slowly walk past the little alleyway you both hid from. The darkness helped hide you two, but your heart hammered in your chest as you watch with wide eyes, seeing them desperately follow your scent, seeing them pick up their pace when it must be fading into the night sky. After what seemed like centuries, the Zed that held you against his chest eventually lets you go, which you are quick to take a large step away from him.

Your breath came out of your mouth in quick panicked pants. Eyes still wide as you avert them from the tall figure to the walking dead. You weighed your options. Either stay and fight off the tall one or run and risk getting chased by the rest of the herd who seemed to be in good distance, but still. You don’t know how many more of them are out there.

So, you settled on fighting the tall one. Would you win? That’s highly unlikely. But hey. You’ve survived worse situations.

Slowly backing away from the military Zed, your eyes held his white, frosty, gaze. Then, from the corner of your eye you spotted an old, rusty iron crowbar, which you quickly grip onto it. Still holding his gaze, your hands tighten their hold on the bar when you see the Zed now walking towards you, a loud, threatening growl rumbling from it. You continue taking slow steps away from it, but just as you did you hear another loud, deep, gurgling growl, only except this time it didn’t come from the dead in front of you. This time it came from behind you.

Fuck sake give me a break. You mentally curse as you slowly, oh so slowly turn around. Only to be met with a large, very, very large obese zombie. Your eyes grow wide as your mouth falls open at the monstrosity standing just a few inches from you. This night was seriously determined in ending your life one way or another.

Yet, before your life can officially come to an end, you’re suddenly being tossed backwards against the cold concrete. A pained groan vibrates in your throat as you land awkwardly, but just as you fell you see the dead soldier once again launching at the large zombie.

“The fuck?” This time you voice out your thoughts as you remain watching the way the tall soldier fights off the other zombie, as if it was preventing it from reaching you,

There’s no way. That’s clearly not happening right now. There’s no way this very dead soldier is fighting off another zombie to get it away from me. I’m just going bat-shit crazy. That’s what’s actually happening right now. You think to yourself as you continue staring at the sight in front of you, eventually, you slowly crawled away then finally jolt to your feet before once again running out of the alley. As you ran, growls echo right behind you, but you never stopped. You once again continued running till you knew it was safe to stop.

You honestly don’t know how far you got, but you eventually come to a stop when you get to a suburban area that was deserted. Your lungs burned while your ribs stabbed at your sides. The rain never ceased, in fact it only seemed to intensify as the night went on, which you then realized you had to find shelter to gather yourself, deal with your throbbing arm and dry yourself before you die of hyperthermia. That’s how much luck you had.

As you panted heavily under the pouring rain, eyes observing your surroundings to catch a glimpse of any movement, any danger, you had missed the way a dark figure blended well in the shadows of the suburban area, as well as blending his heavy footsteps with the rain. That was until you turned around to check if no one or anything was indeed following you, but the moment you turn around your entire body is jolting from fright as the tall tactical Zed stood inches away from you.

“Fuck!” You curse as you fall backwards again. Which you’d like to point out that you’ll be waking up with some serious bruises on your lower backside from the repetitive falls,

You slowly crawl away from the dead, but the more you try distancing yourself, the more it walked towards you with a faint growl. Little did you know he— it was completely irritated with you and your lack of mobility. As you remained frozen on the soaked, cold ground, while your eyes stared upwards to him, you didn’t expect him to let out a grunt before walking past you. You watch his dark figure walk towards a house behind you, he climbs up the steps with a slight limp before ramming the door open with his shoulder and walking inside. Something you definitely, definitely were not expecting. In fact, you were so confused, speechless and shocked that you remained sprawled on the floor, the heavy rain still pouring down on you.

This was beyond a fucking weird and odd night for you. However, after a long minute, you get to your feet, but you stand your ground. Your eyes darting from the opened door of the home, to down the dark, cold, pouring street, then down the street you came from. You contemplated whether you should just run, again, or… No!! That’s a terrible idea!! It’s a trap! The moment you step foot into that house he’ll just launch at you!!

The voice argues in your head as you stay standing outside in the rain. You had such wild options right now that neither of them sounded safe or great. However, the option was made for you when you hear a loud shrieking noise echoing down the dark street. Can this night get any worse? Instantly your feet are moving to the house. Yet, just as you stand on the front porch of the rundown home, your eyes squint to get a glimpse of inside the death trap, but sigh heavily when darkness is all you can see. Your eyes then scan outside, trying to see if you can find anything of use to protect yourself with, but only thing you find are pieces of rotten planks of wood that looked like they’d snap on the first hit.

So with no other option, you slowly step inside the home. Your eyes trying to see through the darkness, luckily, the moon was bright enough to cast some sort of light through the broken down windows, but it still didn’t calm your nerves. Upon entering the home, the first thing that welcomes you is the stench of dusty, murky old walls, then a flight of stairs that lead upstairs. On your left, laid a destroyed den with rotten couches that have been flipped upside down, books, glass littered the ground, then to your right you assumed was the living room since you got a glimpse of some more couches. You weren’t able to fully get a view since the sound of heavy footsteps climbing down the stairs jolts your body to action mode.

Your hands curl as you prepare yourself for what’s to come. Your eyes never leaving the dark, tall figure slowly coming down the steps. Thick silence surrounds the both of you when he finally stops at the end of the stairs, your gazes locked on each other, that’s until the dead gives a grunt before slowly turning to walk to the right, entering the living room. Again, just like outside you watch him leave with tightly knitted brows, confusion once clouding your mind. This is definitely the most weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. You stood there, not sure of what you should do next. Your eyes then look up the steps, a debate running in your head. It was simple, either go up, lock yourself in a room and try to catch some sleep— if that ever happens— or remain downstairs to keep a close eye on his.. intentions. Although, you were convinced on what exactly his intentions were.

Eventually, after what seemed like minutes passing, a cold, uncomfortable shiver runs down your spine, making you decide in heading upstairs. You slowly walk up the steps, keeping your gaze locked behind you in case he decides to attack you from the back. Your priority wasn’t on checking upstairs for any other of his brain eating friends, you had assumed upstairs was clear since you didn’t hear any commotion upon entering the home and had seen him coming from upstairs. With a ridiculous thought, you assumed he had checked the whole house before you had stepped inside.

It was such a dumb thought that it even caused a scoff out of you as you continue making your way up the home. Your steps causing the old staircase to groan under your weight. Once up the second floor, you scan your surroundings until they settle on a door on the far end of the floor. You quickly make your way inside the room and shut the door behind you. It didn’t have a lock. Fucking perfect, but you did see a desk near the window, so with quick steps you walk towards it before dragging it towards the door with heavy grunts. You make sure to jam it right under the doorknob, it wasn’t much but you knew it’d keep him from entering while you slept. Or at least tried to get some sleep.

More time had passed by. After getting a better look of the room you chose, you realized it must’ve belonged to a male in his mid twenties, possibly in his thirties. Old playboy, alternative rock band posters hung on the walls, a mess of papers, old shoes, clothes, books, CD cases, was displayed on the wooden floor. Once discarding your wet clothes and managing to find dry clothes that shockingly fit you, which was another pair of dark jeans and a faded grey AC/DC t-shirt, you checked your injured arm. The bullet was lodged between your flesh, making it a bitch to pull out you eventually remove the piece of metal with some old scissors you found.

Definitely wasn’t sanitary nor was it not painful but what other choice did you have? After semi bandaging your arm with some shirts you finally settled under the covers.

You didn’t exactly fall asleep right away, your mind was on high alert to even let your eyes close. Every little noise you’d hear it’d sent a wave of paranoia, causing you to grip onto the wooden baseball bat you had found somewhere in the room. The paranoia never ceased, especially when you’d hear movement coming from downstairs, reminding you that you were in fact not alone.

Sleep and exhaustion does eventually force you into sleep. Little noise would often wake you, but those eventually drifted away in the air as sleep overtook you. You just prayed to god, if there is a god, that you’d wake up in the morning.

And if you did. You’d gladly escape with the first chance you’d get.

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-> Aahhhhhhhh After 3 Long Months!!!! It’s Finally Here!!!!! I Have Been Working On This One Back & Forth!!

-> Like I Said, This Is By Far The Longest Fic I’ve Ever Written. I think I Usually Always Stop Around 9k Words But This Is Definitely My Longest Yet! 😭

-> I Really Do Hope Y’all Liked This One Because… I’ve Worked On It For So Long 🙃

-> But Anyways, It’s Finally Yours To Read! Give It Some Love, Share Your Thoughts Much Love To Ya’ll & Expect More Chapters To This Mini Series! 🫶🫶

-> Turn On Post Notifications!! For More Updates!!! 🔔

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[bam-bi-buck]

I adore the idea of montage Buddie realization

I’m not sure who originally brought up the idea but I’ve seen people talk about how we keep getting promos / film stills of Buddie moments and not actually seeing the scene and then theorizing we’ll see them later in a Buddie montage

Like the karaoke scene, them sitting together after getting their medals scene, the Eddie staring Buck & Tommy down at dinner scene, and most recently the handshake scene while Buck is cursed scene

While I do hope we see at least parts of all of those scenes-

I also think this would be a great time to add scenes of things we’ve been told about but weren’t able to actually see

Since Oliver and thus Buck has physically changed a lot over the years, I do think they’d have to be creative but I have a lot of thoughts about that as well

For example, we’ve never seen Buck and Chris at the Zoo but they go all the time, we could get a scene of Eddie trying to take a picture of them there and failing so we don’t quite see the differences or have a zoom in of the zoo sign and then swing to them getting out of the car so we only see their legs and have them say stuff

We could see Eddie and Bucks legs tangled together while they quarantine at the loft during the pandemic or Eddie getting out of the bed, or seeing part of Buck over Eddie’s shoulder (this one is especially inspired by this post)

Eddie inviting Buck to the poker date

Buck calling Eddie after having his bi realization, did he apologize and then go to tell him what he’s learned about himself and then have to censor himself, because he really wants to tell him, he tells Eddie everything but for some reason, telling Eddie this thing is harder?

Even some extra stuff that wasn’t stated in canon but would really hit us all in the feels

Like Eddie keeping the heart Buck made while Eddie was in therapy

Buck finding the skateboard for Chris (it’s been heavily theorized that Buck found it but I don’t believe that’s canon)

Buck visiting Eddie while he was in his coma before heading to Eddie’s to help take care of Chris

Buck talking about Eddie in theory

And I’m sure there’s a lot more that could be added!

I do hope we get the Buddie montage, in fact I think there’s a good chance we do, if Buddie does go canon (🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻) but I do know it’s unlikely we’ll get those unfilmed scenes such as the ones listed above

But it would be neat, ya know?

[sandersstudies]

I have been heavily encouraging use of swings and understudies in local community theaters. My small youth show has three swings for thirteen performers.

A lot of people assume this choice was inspired by the COVID pandemic, and while I did see shows delayed or changed by COVID in the cast, the real reason is deeper in my psyche.

When I was about eight I was in a youth performance of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe when a stomach bug tore through the cast. I watched Lucy puke in the middle of act two in front of an audience of about 200-300 people.

Now, props to that Lucy, we reconnected as adults and she’s working off-off-Broadway somewhere in NYC, but as a director now I simply would rather send kids home at the slightest sign of a runny nose than risk EVER having to be in charge of a biohazard cleanup post-intermission.

[bonefall]

Since the ask box commands to vote Bumble in that tourament (which I did, cuz she was SCREWED over to the extreme) could you talk a whole lot about BB!Bumble's dyspraxia? Since we are talking about the *everything in canon* she got for the High Crime of being a fat foreigner woman and abuse victm in warrior cats, let's talk about the universe where we add disabled to her list of High Crimes but she isnt done dirty as balls(sorry if all this is worded weird)

Plus, I'm personally having issues writing a dyspraxic character (mostly because i kinda suck at absorbing information about things like disability when not using characters as exemples) and you've really helped me in the past with making characters with BPD, so it would be personally useful in character making

(Sorry if I'm rude, I deeply respect your work and it greatly inspires me, especially Clanmew)

All righty! BB!Bumble's dyspraxia!

First off, for newcomers;

WHY I ADDED DYSPRAXIA TO BUMBLE

In canon, Bumble is called a fat, useless kittypet, before being dragged back to her domestic abuser. She then dies while trying to survive on her own, starved to the point of emaciation before Clear Sky murders her.

A very common fandom response to this is essentially, "shes NOT useless! She could hunt/fight if you taught her!" And a lot of AUs will have her survive, learning how to be Truly Useful with all the same skills as everyone else.

I won't lie; I think that's very disappointing.

You're not refuting the rotten heart of this ideology, you're just doing what DOTC already does with Jagged Peak. You're AGREEING. You're saying she WOULD be useless if she couldn't hunt or fight like a wild cat, giving her Coolgirl Badass moments to haha embarass her bigots, and Actually the only problem here is that they didn't give her a chance.

What if they GAVE her that chance, and she COULDN'T hunt or fight like them? Would it be okay to send the battered housewife back to her domestic abuser? Hopefully fucking not!

Let's be frank; None of the groups in DOTC are starving. Not even after the prey sickness pandemic.

"Starvation Rhetoric" is an excuse, only ever rolled out by monsters like Clear Sky as justification for stealing land, murder, and throwing out cats the groups deem unworthy of life.

Yet, this gets rolled out for Bumble specifically, by the MOOR CATS, who are supposed to be opposing his ideology.

And that's where I'm starting from.

Okay. What if she couldn't perform physically like other cats?

What if she was part of a group that DID have real concerns about not having enough food?

How does Bumble herself cope with her feelings, and her desire to help her friends and contribute to a group that loves her?

Let's go through all that, and attack the heart of the idea. In fact, we're going to be doing a lot of it, with a significant portion of early ThunderClan being disabled cats.

(Thunder Storm has three legs. Bright Storm has asthma. Sunlit Frost loses the use of both front paws and ends up with chronic pain.)

Bumble's Dyspraxia

The first thing to know about dyspraxia (or DCD, Developmental Coordination Disorder) is that it comes in a LOT of different forms. The next thing to know is that it's RIDICULOUSLY common. Some estimates say 5% of the population has it-- 1 in 20 people.

It's heavily associated with autism and ADHD. The "classic" symptoms are general clumsiness and motor control issues, like having a hard time tying shoes. But these are also symptoms of dyspraxia;

Short-term memory issues, but not long-term

Being constantly covered in bumps and bruises

Having a hard time telling lefts and rights

Difficulties holding pencils or writing in general

"Wobbliness" including tripping mid-step or tripping over your own feet

Issues in the acquisition of "muscle memories," being slow to acquire physical skills.

Stuttering and taking long pauses before responding to someone else speaking

Most dyspraxics won't have all of these, these are symptoms. Not a checklist.

My partner describes theirs as like "constantly working with cold hands through a layer of gloves." The stiffness of being in a freezer, paired with the general delay of having a cover over your skin.

Mine is more focused on the mental side, acquiring new skills is unnaturally difficult, my reaction time is delayed, and I stumble into things.

Every person with dyspraxia is different, but what links us is that we're uncoordinated. We can't help it, telling us to try harder or pay more attention doesn't work. We aren't being careless-- our brains don't send signals to our bodies properly.

I'm basing Bumble's off my own. Her mate, Turtle Heart, shows her over and over how to hunt. It never sticks. She tries to pick up battle moves from Thunder Storm to help defend herself from Clear Sky's goons. It doesn't work.

She's really trying, she really is. The Moor group quickly loses patience with her, and Bumble is well aware that she's only tolerated on Turtle Heart's vouch. Her worst fears come true when Tom steals their children, and her mate is killed trying to retreive them.

That messes with her, and makes her believe that she really is worthless and a burden.

ThunderClan was FOUNDED on Thunder Storm's fury, breaking off his supporters to retreive her from exile, and Bumble's struggle with self-worth begins in earnest.

There's one thing she's confident about, and really loves. Bumble is trilingual, outgoing, and confident in her ability to talk to others. That's what she can add, and what she wants to do.

ThunderClan is different. It works with every strength and weakness of its members, and values diplomacy to keep it afloat against the odds. Bumble really is needed, but eventually even her translation work becomes less special as more kits grow up bilingual. Eventually, this too feels taken from her.

And then it's back to square one. Her mate is gone, one of her kits betrayed her, Owl Eyes is a big strong man who doesn't need his mum anymore. She's left with her fumbling paws, taking more from the pile than she puts in.

One can only hope she realizes that ThunderClan was born out of love for her. That it was never about what she could add. She didn't have to confront it in the main story because so much was happening, but as peace settles over the forest, it's time for her to start to unpack that idea.

[residenthughes]

we have magic mike at home

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

tags/warnings: inspired by magic mike, fluff, pandemic is mentioned briefly, suggestive? (near the end at least)

summary: planning a wedding is never easy, especially under the stresses of the pandemic. leon wants to help you unwind.

notes: so, this is the fic i was meant to post a few days ago (whoopsies!) but i've had a very busy few days, so i'm quite glad to have had the chance to sit down and post this one 😎 not sure when i'll be posting again, but hope it'll be soon! enjoy :)

Early evening settles in, bringing with it a gentle night’s breeze and the aching sensation that burns the back of your eyelids. It’s a mere two nights before your quaint but glamorous wedding and you think the planning you challenged yourself to undertake is finally taking its toll. Needless to say, your husband-to-be, Leon, helped out in any way he possibly could, suggesting from the get-go to hire a wedding planner with the help of the generous salary you both earn. You politely declined however, citing the personal touches you heavily desired sprinkled into the details of your beautiful day to just remain between you and Leon - no one else. While this is mostly true, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that forfeiting so much control in the hands of another individual wasn’t exactly something you were interested in doing. Especially on such an important day.

So, you start to plan your wedding and it’s so much fun. The freshness of a new project always is, particularly when a select bunch of your closest friends and Leon are the ones you bounce ideas between, creating a picturesque plan that ensures to capture the beauty of your faithful union in all its glory. You arrange and arrange, sifting through countless wedding dresses for the one, consuming cheeky amounts of cake all in the name of cake-tasting - all the bridal things. You find it truly fulfilling, being so booked and busy, particularly when taking into account how your regular life schedule takes a turn due to the pandemic. Though you remain ever the optimist when Leon checks in with things on your end, sometimes you find yourself out of sorts when the thought of how different things would be if there wasn’t a pandemic happening crosses your mind. Despite your initial discomfort, you would have agreed in hiring a wedding planner as the scale of your wedding would have required doing so, and so many of those who’ve not only touched your life but Leon’s too would be in attendance, rejoicing and celebrating the momentous occasion for what it’s worth.

It’s not as if the quaint outdoor wedding attended by a select bunch of those closest to you two didn’t have a special place in your heart, but when days are long and you feel such a disconnect from your norm, you simply cannot help the thought. Today is one of those days.

Immediately, you gaze down at the sparkling diamond encrusted ring that sits perfectly against your skin, a reminder of your sacred love and there’s a lightness in your chest at the prospect of the piece of jewellery accompanying you for the rest of eternity. The thought gives just a bit of comfort, even if you want so much more. You sigh nevertheless, pushing your glasses back onto your face and getting back to the sickening amount of emails that flood your inbox, put at ease knowing the end of your night will come when the email count reaches 0.

As you sit comfortably against the soft material of the couch in your shared apartment, nearby TV murmuring in the background, you don’t question when you hear the sudden loud of music. Leon returned home not long ago, peppering your forehead with smothering kisses and the promise of joining you after his shower. You do question the music though, when it’s unlike the familiar alternative tones of music that usually play as he showers but the sounds of Ginuwine’s ‘Pony.’ You can’t help but chuckle to yourself at the choice in music, shaking your head in amusement as your shoulders absently move in time with the beat. Your fingers pitter patter against the keys of your laptop, feelings of tension lessening before you hear the door of your bedroom open. You’re so engrossed with typing the last bit of your email that you don’t immediately turn to Leon, who exits the bedroom.

“New addition to the shower playlist, I see.” You muse, grinning as you hit the full stop button and turn to face Leon, face draining of its colour.

Now, in all the time you’ve known Leon, you’ve had countless encounters with him nude, the outline of his veins and bulge of his muscles something you can never tear your eyes from, as if you were seeing them for the first time everytime. His bare state is nothing irregular due to the circumstances, but you’re sorely mistaken. Leon, who you assumed would retreat into the living space in an ivory white towel hung loosely around his sculpted midriff, opts for something else, something else you couldn’t even have guessed.

Black leather crosses the expanse of his legs, flared out at the bottom and gripping his large thighs like a lifeline. A tawny brown belt holds the material to his hips, leather trousers hanging so low your line of sight is abundant in deep v-line and his butterscotch blond snail trail. His rock hard torso glistens as he steps out into the light of the room, strutting in with command as his hand secures the midnight black cowboy hat atop his locks, effectively shielding his eyes. You audibly gulp.

Yet again, another assumption in your mind is combatted. You were under the impression that Leon couldn’t dance, over the course of your relationship the man himself joking he’d have to oil his joints before utter destruction would take place on the dancefloor. This is not the case. Again. Albeit sheepish and amateurish, Leon steps towards you with seductive rolls of his gleaming torso, sleeveless vest outlining the flow of his movements as the long sterling silver feather necklace he adorns nestles onto the space of his cleavage.

At this point, you’re barely blinking, afraid you’ll miss a single second of the amazing spectacle, taking in every inch of Leon as he stops before you. In your trance, you must have placed your laptop somewhere, because it is long gone when Leon’s figure looms over you, suddenly making you feel so small yet so terribly flustered. In one swift motion, the cowboy hat Leon sports falls atop your head, half shielding your eyes. You’re quick to move it further upwards, eying Leon as he shimmes the leather vest down his shoulders inch by inch. Regardless of the overflow of lust that dilates your pupils and leaves you with dry mouth, your smile is innocently amused as you notice the rosy tint of Leon’s cheeks against the porcelain of his skin, lips fighting the timidity that very much craves a downturned smile.

The vest is off Leon’s shoulders and he’s shaking his hips in small circles to align with the lyrics. Lifting a toned arm up to the sky, he swings the material in slow motion, highlighting the shadows of his great muscles and overall being an absolute sex-god. You hear a smack off in the distance where the vest lands and Leon’s grabbing your hands, touch warm and sensual as he guides them onto his torso. Beneath your tingling skin, you discern the mould of Leon’s build - solid, lean and every explicit word that comes to mind. He’s so undeniably sexy, ushering you down the expanse of his toned body with heavy-lidded eyes, but so damn endearing. He tries his very best to settle into the serious stripper persona he’s adopted, but his hands are trembling and he’s biting his lips in order not to burst out laughing and you can’t take it anymore. An airy laugh empties out from the bottom of your belly, gazing up at Leon with all the love and happiness you can muster in your eyes. The instantaneous change in atmosphere is one Leon appreciates, chuckling under his breath as he listlessly keeps with his supposed choreography.

“When you said we have Magic Mike at home, I didn’t think you meant this.” you joke, not even attempting to hide how ludicrous this whole scenario is.

Leon snickers, still preoccupied with your hands as they rest on either side of his waist. “Seemed like a shame to not provide entertainment for your bachelorette party.”

He ghosts your hand over his snail trail, brushing past his cock quick enough for inaction but slow enough for you to make out the semi hard-on he’s working with. There’s a disgusting twist in your abdomen. “Channing Tatum can’t beat this real deal, now can he?”

Aided by the calmer sounds of the next song murmuring behind you, you’re simply confronted with the grapple of the literal context of your current situation. Your legs cross over one another, a rush of humidity showering over you as your front teeth sink into your bottom lip. You want Leon in every possible way, and are sure he feels the same, his desire face to face with you. But you can’t ignore the nuances that envelope you. Observing the long hours you spent organising your wedding, with no occasion planned to drunkenly celebrate together with your friends or seemingly reward yourself for your extensive labour, Leon took it upon himself to be there for you. As he always has been, and you honestly can’t thank him enough.

You press a soft kiss against Leon’s knuckles, peering up at the man who couldn’t be a better face to wake up to for the rest of your life. “I love you so much. Thank you - really.”

His lips curve softly and you’re falling in love all over again. “Don’t mention it.”

[ladyiristheenchantress]

Magic for the working witch

Hello friends! I recognize this is a break from my current content series, however I have been working like a dog recently balancing university, work, social life, and medical problems so I felt inspired to talk a bit about the magic I do while working!!

To preface: I work 3 jobs total! one of them requires me to travel, One is a remote desk job, and the final one is a waitress! While I don't recommend this lifestyle, it is the one that I and many others have fallen into as life has unfolded. First of all, to all my hard working witches, you freaking matter dude. Your boss may not see how hard you work, but trust me you guys are hustlers! Its hard to balance a spiritual life with everything else going on but today lets tackle that!

How can I cultivate magic, even with work/school/etc?

First, we have to find where the magic is within us and this is easier said than done. In previous post I talk about magical frameworks and theories and this would be a good time to put this to use! I believe that magic is all around and within us, we can harness it at any time, enjoy it! Even simply reflecting on the magic in your heart can be enough to feel spiritually fufilled. We as humans like acknowledgement, and when we just simply reflect on the magic around us then we tend to feel more fufilled but that gets lost on us sometimes.

Got it! What ideas do you have for me?

Lets think about jobs for a second! We have all sorts of jobs out there, desk jobs, standing jobs, hard labor, etc. I believe there is magic for every profession, type, etc, but that is a looot of jobs. so lets narrow it down to the three types I have experience with!

Travel + Speaking

these jobs include teaching, public speaking, management, and more. These jobs often are a form of public service but require an element of writing, desk work, etc. It also is somewhat a form of authority in the aspects of people looking up to you for information, conflict resolution, and more. Usually this job has a commute, a level of strong responsibility, and traits like leadership and confidence are seen heavily.

Witchy ideas:

As you wake up, get ready, and commute, give yourself a pep talk as a form of glamour magic. Bonus points if you make it a chant

Enchant your toothpaste to help your words carry

Keep crystals like angelite, Rose Quarts, and Pyrite close

Create a weekly spread to give you insight into the week so you can prepare as needed

Wear bright colors for confidence

Wash your hair with the intention of unblocking flow of words, and making things run smoother

Public Service

Public service are jobs like waiter, bank clerk, and floor salesman. These jobs require you to be informational, polite, and taking on a lot of side work in the process. Your job is to get someone to purchase something and help facilitate that, resolve minor conflicts, and honestly team work with both your coworkers and customers.

Witchy Ideas:

When you can: Don't wear socks with your shoes. A lot of dress shoes and work shoes can have hygienic insoles, and this can help facilitate grounding!

Create an oil out of a carrier oil, basil, thyme, and rosemary and you get a general 'workplace luck' oil!

If you work for commissions: Eat a mint, tic-tac, or sugar packet before work to sweeten your words to customers and get more sales

If you don't work for commissions: Place Vaseline or lotion on your elbows and knees to facilitate swift work and smooth customer interactions

Carry obsidian, super seven, bismuth, or chrysocolla with you

Keep a 'talisman card' in your pocket, pick a tarot card that resonates with your goal for work. My go-to's are the queen of swords, king of cups, the emperor, and the magician

Remote Work

Remote jobs are any jobs that can be done at home, and after the pandemic these jobs became a staple so many companies kept the position. These jobs could be done day or night, internationally or locally, and so much more. The best traits to have would be organization, punctuality, and perseverance.

Witchy Ideas:

Maintain a home altar where you do work to induce specific energies

Before a virtual meeting discussing important personal goals, set up an online vision board of what you want

Have a prayer or chant ready during a project to help it move along

Create digital sigils to deflect crappy co-workers

Use Tigers eye, ulexite, and yellow calcite to help the work day

Leave a tarot card on your desk as a talisman.

If you guys need any tips, tricks, or questions feel free to leave them in an AMA or in the comments below! Thank You! Tip Jar

[itzchrissydoesstuff]

“Ew! This show sucks! Why do people even like it?”

. . .

This show made me want to draw more…

This show made me realize how much I love cartoons…

This show helped me cope during the pandemic…

This show inspired me to create a tumblr blog and help fill the fan tag with fresh new posts…

This show made me meet new and amazing friends…

This show inspired me to make comics back in middle school…

This show helped me cope my anxiety…

This show helped shape my weird and silly personality…

This show made me appreciate ducks more…

This show taught me not to care about what others think and to just be myself…

This show encouraged me to start a petition to hopefully get it revived in the near future…

This show made me laugh and smile when I was getting bullied in elementary school…

This show made me realize that SwaySway and Buhdeuce are two of my biggest comfort characters and are like family to me…

This show had such a huge impact on me and my life and I’m truly grateful for that. I’m sorry you didn’t experience it the way I did when watching it.

(HEAVILY inspired by @mahnameisqq on TikTok)

[gxbtx]

The CHROMAKOPIA Album Review

The project begins with the track “St. Chroma,” laying foundations of his ingenuity by marching along to his whispered anthem of vanity. Like soldiers, he’s leading us into the unknown as a sergeant character using Daniel Ceaser’s returned angelic vocals to lure us into CHROMAKOPIA. Tyler (T) reels us in with the fire, getting us ready for what is to come; the metaphorical light instilled from what seems to be his mother shows us the sprightly source of creativity continuing to fuel him. The bridge ascends to a drop, and T explodes all expectations of what we think this album will be. He sets out the idea of the doubts that begs him the question of: “Do I keep the light on or do I gracefully bow out?” Introducing the term “CHROMAKOPIA,” it seems to me that the album is to dive into all the new challenges in his life, using the lessons from back home to put into perspective what his mother would say. To me, CHROMAKOPIA is the name of a thematic representation of where the chromatic roots of T’s musicianship began: his mother. 

Credit; St. Chroma music video by Tyler, The Creator

Projects prior to the 2024 release brought decade-defining sounds to and throughout the years of the pandemic. Tyler’s chutzpah has brought him up to continuously get better and better with each release, developing a new thematic persona for each new project. Flower Boy in 2017 reversed his offensive nature (prevalent in his early upbringings on the adolescent internet), transforming people’s perceptions of his capabilities to prove what he set out to accomplish years in advance. IGOR in 2019 was an experimental mix of R&B, soul, and some rap, using chords to amplify the sounds of Flower Boy that turned out to become a Grammy-winning success. Call Me If You Get Lost was the braggadocious Gangsta Grillz mixtape that Tyler had mentioned wanting to do since childhood, introducing the elements of hip-hop that heavily inspired him to his large audience. Tyler was on top of the world after COVID, and has not seen any decline since.

So to no surprise, teasers of CHROMAKOPIA brought a climactic moment of pure-excitement, one that fans had been building up for years. The unexpected timing and punctual nature of Tyler's album cycle this time around created a buzz around the Halloween season release, with teasers revealing a sergeant costume and a mask. T then reversed the expectation and overall theme of his album in espionage, however, using his masterful ability to get the listeners to hear what he actually wanted to say. T uses the demanding spotlight to show the consequences of fame in this hyper-digitalized age of the internet. Seen in the clever pick of the single, “Noid,” T introduces the distressing paranoia that his level of fame has induced. To an extent, his experience as one of the biggest stars of this decade has left him with a decommitment to his fans as he is left paranoid living in his home of Los Angeles. The mask seemingly represents his public persona from his music, which is so closely tied to him as an individual to the point that he is recognized anywhere he goes. T’s impressive abilities to demand the attention of the listeners seems to be a double-edged sword, with it also being the biggest drawback of his fame. 

Credit; Noid music video by Tyler, The Creator

Although Tyler begins to become more candid, this does not slow down his ability to RAP. He follows “St. Chroma” with “Rah Tah Tah,” bringing new confidence to the playlists in 2024. Tyler adds his classic dawg growls with these clicking sounds that make me think of shells, bringing us back to his early Odd Future era of music. Shouting out Kenny at the end of the track, T shows the LA love by sharing the energy of the spirited revival of hip hop in his city over the summer. He extends this wave of tenacity with features of GloRilla, Sexyy Red, and Lil Wayne on “Sticky,” displaying the dexterity of his production skills. T borrows elements explored this year by Pharrell Williams with drill team instruments, like the loud trumpets heard after Wayne’s verse–Tyler compliments the best features of each artist using the production to bring weight to each of the brief verses. “Thought I Was Dead” supplemented a great showcase of SchoolBoyQ, and served as a notable teaser to the album days prior to show the rap-heavy album this was going to be. “Balloon” features the new and breathtaking talent, Doechii, with a prolonged verse stimulating an impressive word play and animated personality. Even in all of these features, T is rapping his ass off to remind you whose project these tracks belong to.

This project’s capabilities are not limited to just his hyped-up raps and sounds of driller beats; more so than his previous projects, CHROMAKOPIA dives into themes of vulnerability and introspection. Sitting at age 30, time has become a struggle that is glaringly applicable to many of the topics Tyler dives into. In “Hey Jane,” T reveals a surprising mistake, leading to a conversation with a woman about an unplanned pregnancy. T’s worries and thoughts about becoming a father, especially so soon in his career, sheds light on the sides of his life that he deems unfit for a child to see. It seems that the relationship between the two is relatively healthy, as T’s lyrics in both parts of the conversation pose a mutual understanding and respect for each others’ emotions. It’s later revealed that Tyler’s mother is very keen on the thought of a grandchild, seen in the apprehensive, string-heavy “Tomorrow.” The pressure regarding the topic of fatherhood is represented through the repeated phrase “Give it up!” when his mother is talking about her desires for a grandchild, showing us the role times plays on the other side of parenthood. This same phrase is found in the track that follows “Hey Jane,” named “I Killed You,” a continued display of the pressure T feels: his apprehensiveness towards parenthood seems to come from the feeling of obligation to have a child, but the unfit environment that makes it a difficult reality to imagine. The crass nature of the song in the beginning is reminiscent of some of his earlier projects from Goblin and WOLF, bringing a dark and twisted tone to the topic of abortion. His justifications align with the aforementioned negative side effects of fame—like his paranoia—and T’s overall self-proclaimed “selfish” lifestyle. The bridge, however, falls into a more Flower Boy-esque sound, as T touches on the inherently pure, innocent form of beauty that the child would represent; the delicate nature of the child is at such a high risk thanks to the drawbacks of his fame. His tug-o-war between the life and the endangered innocence of the child represents the surface level justifications towards an abortion, but perhaps this talk of fatherhood displays a larger reflection of T’s character.

The irritants of Tyler’s world are brought about in “Take Your Mask Off,” dissing the fraudulence he observes in religion, family, and musicianship. Toward the end of the track, however, it seems he aims his shots towards himself after his mother’s reminded lesson of “Keep that sh*t one hundred with you, with yourself.” T then proceeds to take his own mask off, insulting his own excessive lifestyle, as well as his business endeavors that feel shallow or hypocritical—with the majority of his income coming from clothing purchases from an audience that’s not fully tapped into his music. He insinuates that he has lost touch with the mass-appeal audience he’s culminated over his career, reflecting on the fact that his musicianship is not recognized to the extent he geeks about. He also mentions his selfish nature in specific regard to his lustful desires, challenging himself with the idea of therapy, and to get to the bottom of why he really doesn’t want to be a parent. His lack of commitment in relationships is specifically showcased in “Darling, I,” with the upbeat R&B sound enhanced by Teezo’s exclusive vocals. In this song, he reveals how his lack of monogamy and greedy desires have potentially become obsolete or immature for his age, leaving him at a crossroads. Revisiting the themes of “Tomorrow,” the dissonance of the sounds come to show the uncertainty of whether it is time to change his ways, or if he should continue down the path that seems to have left him slightly unfulfilled. Similar to how Kendrick Lamar peeled the entire banana of his own discontentment and struggle in Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers, it seems as so Tyler, The Creator is starting to peel back a few layers of his own.

Tyler starts to end his project with a yearning for his father who was never there. He comes to ask his mother to be honest about his father’s absence, as his aforementioned struggles with fatherhood could align with his idea of why his father wasn’t there for him. I really enjoy the falsetto melody accompanied by Lola Young over the eager guitar solos, leading up to an eargasm bridge that is a lovely, bittersweet expression of longing. The conversation leads T to wonder why he is thinking about his father when he’s received all the love, support, and accolade he could’ve ever wanted from both his mother and the world. The ending of the song is an explanation from his mother as to why his father wasn’t there, bringing a sense of closure alongside the admission of her mistakes, in a beautiful way that brings tears to the eyes. The following track, “Balloon,” goes on to be one of the most positive and uplifting songs I’ve ever heard from Tyler, easily becoming one of my top songs of the year. This track brings the album to a satisfying close, as the self-reliance and self-confidence bring a more positive perspective to the unsure, somewhat dark feelings explored prior. 

Tyler popping a balloon in the studio with Teezo Touchdown. Credit; "Mask is Off: CHROMAKOPIA" from Tyler, The Creator on Youtube

Tyler’s ending track, “I Hope You Find Your Way Home,” wraps up the project by summarizing the feelings discussed throughout all the songs. He comes to answer the questions he poses throughout the album with confidence, even if in a somewhat impermanent way. The journey back home to "CHROMAKOPIA" guided him through his strife, using lessons from his mother to prompt both the sources and solutions. This project doesn’t seem to be a representation of a thematic character he’s usually creates alongside the music, but rather is him taking off the mask to reveal his truly vulnerable self to the world. All of his struggles that coincide with being a cultural influence show that even he is not perfect; and, with coming to terms with that, Tyler culminates a musical experience that drives you throughout his own personal self-reflection. CHROMAKOPIA is the complex inner-workings and trials of not only Tyler’s sergeant character leading the listeners to the next best phenomenon in music, but of Tyler himself–listeners are shown a real reflection and assessment of his character, humanizing one of the decades’ most committed entertainers.

To see this project as part of my RadioUTD organization, visit

[dailyanarchistposts]

Anarchist utopias are alive and well, not only in Chiapas or Rojava but also in the heart of capitalist Europe. In Germany, police repression and gentrification have dealt a decisive blow to traditional anarchist strongholds like Berlin, with numerous free spaces closed down since the pandemic started.

But a new form of protest is blossoming. Eco-anarchists are building momentum all over Germany. The black and green flag is stronger than ever and enjoys surprisingly widespread sympathy among the public.

The Dannenröder Forest, nicknamed “Danni,” fifty miles from Frankfurt, is suffering. A highway is being built, cutting through the forest like an open wound. It is a battlefield, a witness to environmental destruction and to resistance. Hundreds of activists occupied the route of the planned A49 highway from October 2019 to December 2020.

They were inspired by protests in the Hambacher Forst, known as “Hambi,” Germany’s most mediatized land occupation with a clear and organic growth from one protest to the other. Out of protesters’ imagination sprang a hundred tree houses, numerous massive wooden tripods and a dense constellation of zip lines, creating a unique ecosystem of resistance.

Organized in neighborhoods, life there was utopic. All decisions were made in a decentralized, unanimous manner, leaving space for activists to live without constraints or hierarchies. Anarcho-feminist, antiracist, and anti-capitalist slogans celebrating life in the forest echoed around the campfires.

But repression was on the way. Last December, nearly 3,000 police with water cannons, led by special commandos, invaded the forest. After destroying all barricades and tree houses, they cleared the way for the deforestation.

Cutting through the dense forest, the future road is heavily protected by barbed wire and massive police patrols. Yet the eco-anarchist resistance has not demobilized. Hundreds of activists reunited in April 2021 for a climate camp to reinvent the protest. They now legally occupy village structures and intend to build a resilient movement based on decentralized direct action.

Forest occupations (Waldbesetzungen) have seven lives. Somehow, being expelled by the police strengthens them. Activists disperse around the country, share their experiences and know-how and create new areas of protest.

An organic network of resistance is being woven across Germany, and sometimes the threads of individual action intersect and create nodes. Climate camps are exactly that—nodes that connect all the struggles.

The first of them began in Augsburg, a conservative Bavarian city. Dozens of climate activists from the Fridays for Future (FFF) group decided that weekly demonstrations were not enough. Last summer, they occupied the city’s central square. They built a wooden utopia in the middle of the shopping district, an eco-anarchist equivalent to Occupy Wall Street.

Like in Danni, they live without authority, cook with dumpstered food and are supported by a network of caring inhabitants. From FFF to eco-anarchy, they were radicalized by the tales of activists traveling from the Danni and Hambi. They, in turn, fostered eco-anarchist resistance in southern Germany.

The intentional family of Waldbesetzungen and climate camps is steadily growing. Central squares are being occupied in six other German cities, as are a dozen forests and meadows.

The Altdorfer Waldbesetzung, called Alti, is the newest. Since January 2021, the woods, close to the tourist city of Ravensburg, echo with the sound of hammers, music, and campfire tales. Protesting the expansion of mining gravel destined for export to Austria, ten to thirty activists live together, building dozens of tree houses in various neighborhoods, following the model of the other forest occupations.

The young anarchist utopia is strongly supported by the local inhabitants, who cook two meals a day for the activists, donate construction material, and flock to visit the occupation on weekends. Since deforestation season starts in October, the Alti has some more months to prepare for the pending police assault. In the meantime, banner actions, demonstrations and pranks against conservative politicians are carried out daily.

The eco-anarchist utopia is alive and well. It is growing steadily as an alternative to the Green Party, which is becoming Germany’s new mainstream, and may even lead the government after the next election.

Feminist, antiracist and anti-capitalist struggles are coming together in the woods, because all forms of oppression are interlinked. Black is the new green.

In times of greenwashing, green capitalism, and eco-fascism, the eco-anarchist Waldbesetzungen and climate camps offer a combative and beautiful spark of hope.

Philippe Pernot is a German-based photojournalist whose work focuses on anarchy, ecological resistance, and the interconnectedness between feminist, anti-capitalist and anti-racist struggles. After studying in France, he worked in Lebanon for one year, reporting about the Palestinian situation and those abandoned by the Lebanese state.

He co-published a report on a LNG-pipeline project in Quebec and a zine about a mall being built in his native village in southern France.

[pencopanko]

Another Coco "What If" AU, but this time Héctor actually recorded some tunes

Heavily inspired by the story of how Ryo Fukui's album "My Favorite Tunes" was rediscovered through his widow, Yasuko in 2017.

°°°°°°

After the news broke out about de la Cruz's lies (and alleged murder) of his buried-by-time duet partner, musician, and songwriter Héctor Rivera, rumors of never-before-seen and extremely rare recordings of the latter performing either with de la Cruz or by himself circulated amongst certain circles, mostly fans of lost media and buried history.

Talks like this had been going around for ages, but it wasn't until mid-2018 when a shoe-maker family's son named Miguel Rivera came out with stories of how de la Cruz stole his great-great grandfather's songs and skull guitar complete with physical proof that the topic of lost recordings suddenly became one of the hottest topics in México. Miguel himself joined in on the hunt, which lasted for quite some time well past 2018 and was postponed due to the pandemic.

And then, in 2021. A miracle.

Either the previous matriarch known as Mamá Coco had completely forgotten about it or it had been a secret that she had purposely kept to herself for Miguel to discover, but there were some other things she had kept hidden from her mother... five 78 rpm records predating 1921, all sent by Héctor. Recordings of him singing by himself, with Ernesto, or just simple guitar arrangements of his other songs. Kept in secret by Mamá Coco somewhere in a corner of Miguel's hideout left unchecked after Imelda threw them out along with other objects related to music. Other 78s were later on discovered by a descendant of de la Cruz's inside the family estate and in various antique shops, all collecting dust. They were amongst the most important relics of Héctor's legacy, besides his red songbook containing the first composition for "Remember Me".

After efforts of digitizing came out successful (despite the damage done by age, the recordings were miraculously salvageable), "Recuérdame: The Lost Recordings of Héctor Rivera (1919-1921)" was released. Calling the album a sensation was an understatement. Rave reviews started coming out, stating that Héctor's warm voice reminded listeners of home and warm sunrays, and how one can feel the heartache and longing for his family from the way he strums his guitar alone, even if his voice is not as strong and commanding as de la Cruz's. His grito is oftentimes said to be addicting and infectious as well, with some claiming that they ended up doing it along. Others lamented over "what could have been" after listening to Rivera and de la Cruz's harmonizing and clear-as-day dynamic as a duet. Shortly after, the skeletal remains of Héctor Rivera were found in an unmarked grave in México City.

It not only solidified Héctor Rivera's legacy (thus directly affecting Héctor's overall health in the Land Of The Dead for the better), but it also largely improved the Riveras' overall economy with royalties from Héctor's never-before-seen music, in addition to the already booming shoe-making business and Miguel's own efforts as a musician. All because Miguel decided to steal a guitar that turned out to be rightfully his.

It is safe to say that Héctor Rivera is now considered one of the greatest musicians, songwriters, and poets in the history of Mexican music.

[pirateprincessjess]

Hi! I saw that you have tattoos and was curious what ones you have and was curious what they were and if they had any significance to you (all good if not I have a couple that are just because I thought they looked cool)

I have several!

One is a picture of a woman with a tv for a head. She’s visibly happy, and the tv is on the no signal screen. It’s a reminder to not to show others what they want to see, but instead to live authentically. (Very heavily inspired by the song TV head by Elliot Lee).

The next one is a Reshiram from Pokémon. I’ve got a Reshiram that I’ve been transferring up from old Pokémon games since Pokémon black, and I really love him. He was on my team the first time I won money at a Pokémon tournament.

The next one is a Plesiosaur skull. My best friend and I decided to get tattoos of our favorite dinosaur skulls during the pandemic. This was my first tattoo and it means a lot to me. I later learned that a plesiosaur isn’t technically a dinosaur

And the last one is Anguirus s from Godzilla. He’s my son. I love my son.

[bubster3020]

ALBUM REVIEW #2 - Frailty - Jane Remover

This album was really cool, and I'm really happy I got to listen to it the way it was intended. I went into this album completely blind, not even knowing what genre it would be. While hyperpop was the last thing on my list of expectations, the record did not disappoint. It boasts awesomely creative instrumentals, quality vocals, and some really neat writing that at some points hit closer to home than I ever anticipated. The project dives into themes of being lost in the world, particularly after graduating high school, unsure about your life's trajectory and your identity. All of this culminates into an album that feels like you're partaking in the most fun and inspired downward spiral you've even encountered.

The opening track, "Goldfish," is one of the record's most relaxed songs, which both prepares you for it's lyrical contents and lulls you into thinking the rest of the album will keep the same pace. This was consciously done by Jane to cause uncertainty on what the rest of the project would sound like. It perfectly puts you in the headspace the album was written with, that being one of confusion. To contrast this, "Your Clothes" explodes with energy right from the get go, which truly sets the tone, being fast, loud, and distorted. As much as I love the idea of the first song being a bait and switch for this one, it doesn't quite stick the landing. The energy is great, but there were some odd mixing and writing choices that made me question how I would feel about the rest of the songs. The opening's guitars were too drowned out and felt quiet in comparison to the rest of the sound. This was coupled with some lyrics that felt out of place like "you're picking your berries, revenge is so sweet," which feels strangely childish compared to the rest of the record. Luckily, its only a small blemish.

Frailty is one of the most creative and innovative albums I've heard in a long time. The risks it takes are things I wouldn't even dream of doing, owing to Jane Remover's resourcefulness as an artist. This is no better demonstrated by the fact that no matter how distorted, loud, and aggressive the guitars sound, its all acoustic. Just because she didn't own an electric guitar while recording the album, Jane comes up with some of the coolest guitar tones I've ever heard on this. Songs like "Pretender" sound exactly like a heavily pitched down telecaster, yet it's just a humble acoustic and a boatload of talent. Another strong musical aspect is its usage of digital sound effects and 16-bit chiptune. Computer bleep bloops are all over the record, which aside from blending really well with the hyperactive synths and drums, creates a sense of feeling like a kid again. It feels like you're being brought back to a simpler time that you never wanted to leave, which does wonders in communicating its themes of growing up and discovering oneself.

This album keeps its themes very tight, with a clear focus on discovering your own identity and how turbulent the last few years of school can be, especially during a pandemic. Feeling like you're developmentally stunted, especially compared to your peers is a common topic, and one I personally relate to. Songs like "Champ" explore how the chaos of growth can often lead to depression because of hard it is to cope with change. The second half of the record especially feels like Jane is spiraling out of control, letting herself rot in bed as a means to cling on to whatever childhood she has left before realizing that it's not healthy to be stuck in the past. Halfway through "Eyes Off The Wheel, I'm A Star," there's an epiphany that while change is inevitable, it's not something that is inherently bad and it only hurts worse if you deny it. The album is very well balanced between both overbearing and fun songs, with the lighter and cleaner songs such as "Kodak Moment" feeling like a beacon of hope in the ocean of sadness. Despite how hopeless this project may come off as, it's ultimately a work of euphoria.

On top of everything else, this album is very well sampled and inspired, its soundscape reminding me of some Beach House records and at times even UNDERTALE's soundtrack. Even though it wears a lot of its inspiration on its sleeve, literally sampling songs from Pokémon and 3DS menu screens, it transforms them in so many unconventional ways that I am consistently blown away. There were multiple moments where I would recognize a style of music or sample and just sit there stunned because of what was going on around it. While sampling is pretty common practice in the world of EDM and hyperpop, I think Frailty not only pushes its boundaries, but smashes right through them. This record has an overabundance of creative decisions with only the odd misstep when it comes to mixing, and I think the record will only grow on me as time goes on. It beautifully explores topics of how hard life can be on the cusp of adulthood and the struggle is only worsened by both other people and yourself. The album ends with the idea that despite everything going on around you, life will work out and it will get better. No matter what, at the end of the day you're still you, and you're still living.

Favourite song: Pretender

Least favourite: Your Clothes

Score: 8/10

[lysolstrider]

i didn't know you were making a game thats really cool, can you tell us more about it?

yes!! just for you my dearest mutual axolotlworld… sorry I took forever to respond I really had to think about what to say!

our game is (tentatively) called COLLEGEBOUND.. or SCHOOLBOUND… or CLASSBOUND.. we are indecisive. it revolves around concepts of change, willpower, and the drive to keep going. it is tangentially related to the COVID-19 pandemic though a physical sickness is not present anywhere in the game… quite the opposite

you play as atlas, a tired sophomore who’s ready to just leave school altogether. what’s crazy though is that you can’t leave. nobody can. you’ve all been on campus and its extended neighborhood for a year straight without any contact with the outside world. your college is floating in the sky, cut off from the outside world. it’s time to fix that.

it is based VERY heavily in paper mario style combat, and is heavily inspired by games like undertale and persona 5, i would go so far as to say i hope this is an appropriate love letter to those games!! if you enjoy making friends and avoiding class, you will love this game. we are trying a lot of new things outside these games’ scopes

ideally, we get the kickstarter launched sometime after having a workable demo in mid 2025. at the moment, the majority of the demo’s soundtrack is finished, the character designs are mostly complete, and the demo’s story is 90% done. though not programmed enough to have anything tangible, the combat system is 40% complete and the UI is about 5% done. the only reason i wouldn’t be like HERES THE DEMO SCRAPS is just because i hate reading devlogs where nothing happens 😭😭

there is a secret i cannot say, but it is the reason development isn’t as quick even though it’s a two person project. just know it’s a popular mechanic for indie games to do this lately and i’m wanting to take it to a logical extreme in the most intense way possible!!!!!! which is really challenging in Unreal Engine but it is possible!

the environments and such are extremely easy and not a concern because tbh most of that is free assets we have permission to edit mixed with my hand drawn or modeled things. unironically i’m really digging the amazing world of gumball style it gives the game. i’m a huge huge perfectionist and even refuse to answer texts unless i have a perfect response so i’m polishing things as i go and am really enjoying making it!

also, we’re going to apply for multiple scholarships dedicated to things like this— with what we have so far visually we actually have a shot maybe????!!!!! i dont have any good videos on hand but the paper style is PERFECT for my art and it’s really endearing to look at and play as

i wish i could be more specific but it’s such a novel idea and i told shems i can’t talk about it anywhere for a while ugh 😭 i can’t remember my login for here on the computer but when I post some of the soundtrack snippets I will tag you in them!! the music is coming along the best so far lol

here’s some screenshots of concept art tho!! theresa and anya. theresa is an HR management major and anya is an illustration major. we thought about Anya’s color changing when she performs certain skills but that’s up in the air rn

us messing with the lighting in unreal lol (we’ve since changed the filter on it as well as making the textbox different)

[tzifron]

 “Every chain of transmission that is broken is valuable, every person that doesn't get sick, that doesn't lose that week of work, or doesn't become disabled or die, from the minorest of inconveniences, to the greatest of losses: every single one of those things is valuable.”–Becca, speaking on Death Panel Podcast