#murkoff collections

[luvisia]

[chocolate-gore]

I am putting that illustration degree to good use on this day [-> cooking up representation for characters from my favourite fictional thing that I don’t see enough content of]

dubi dubi du ba

3/4 perspective is my passion don’t @ me

[francobarbi]

I'll Never Recover From This

[evilvvithin]

The Outlast Trials - Murkoff Prototypes

[lamby-grahamy]

New Outlast comic dropped and they are taking exactly ZERO prisoners

[imperial6scum]

First part of the comic is here! https://comicbook.com/gaming/news/the-outlast-trials-the-murkoff-collections-comic-chapter-1/#12

[muffy-official]

More oc shenanigans

Now featuring Tilly who I've mentioned before(the prime asset who gave Gabby away for contraband goods which were wine and whiskey, same person who enjoys using that reagent/expop as her dress up mannequin once in a while)

Not your traditional bride to be either, she fantasises a lot about ceremonies, her previous occupation as a bridal model let her play out this fantasy over and over without the to her grim consequences tied to actual marriage such as becoming a mother and housewife before being taken by Murkoff as she tried to get rid of a body of a woman she killed out of dread she'll be replaced. She's her own boss and she won't let men command her around, not shying away to get physical if needed if giving false affection that's believable enough won't cut it. Kisses men(if not repulsed by them) and women if necessary, with women she's more open with it to have some fun herself

Claims to be for womens safety yet proved to be somewhat of a hypocrite when she gave the former reagent Gabby away to Barbi for some goods and him promising to stay far away from her for a while at least so he won't keep on annoying her. Saw her own safety and comfort as more important than the others.

Will get very angry if female expop get harmed or even violated in her presence, will not react well to the lady big grunts corpse once Murkoff let's her roam the docks during prime time

Had her place left in a mess once Coyle came to collect what belonged to Phyllis, got into quite a violent argument aswell before having to switch her demeanour to diffuse it only to not succeed in keeping the young woman hidden in a wardrobe away from him in the process

Love drawing this guy getting hurt lmao

Most of these doodles are almost very tiny too I can't seem to just draw normally or in a larger scale lately

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Do you write platonic x readers? Cause I was wondering if we could have an expansion on Franco Barbi as a best friend to a preferably female reader but im not picky

Two gangsters in the loony bin

Franco Barbi x best friend (fem)

warning: kinda fluff, violence, no use of Y/n

summary: At any moment, a best friend is the most important thing you can have, even here in this hellhole or the loony bin or just the place without hope. But even Franco needs a best friend, because together you can hunt victims and have more fun than alone.

info: Sure you can get something like that, and thanks anyway for asking, I hope you enjoy reading it, anon ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°How did the feared Franco Barbi, son of a gangster and his best friend meet? All he heard his father's blows and the screaming still ringing in his ears, he knew he had to get away. He had pushed it too far and now drove through the States in a half-broken-down car, stopping at a seedy bar for a drink. A run down bar where only a few people lingered, but as he entered and ordered his special milkshake, he heard a giggle next to him. He put his hand on his shotgun and looked at the person next to him, but stopped when he saw the exact same drink in the woman's hands. ,,I didn't know anyone else would drink something so exquisite,’ she said, moving a chair closer to him. Franco didn't know whether he should laugh or scream, but when he also got his drink and she tapped her glass against his and the tinkling sound was heard, he smiled slightly and they both took a sip.

°That same night, they had more than just a drink together, and it all started in the backyard with bottles and maybe a few people shooting with his shotgun and her revolver. ,,What do you say if we move on together?" he asked as they sat next to each other in his car, drunk and yet finding the situation and the weirdness funny. As it turned out, Franco was not the only one with a criminal past and she had already killed one or two men, taking the money and now on the run after the last robbery had gotten a little out of hand. ,,Let's go!" she had shouted at him as she had thrown the bag of their things into his car and sat down next to him on the passenger seat, started the engine and drove on through the States, taking whatever they wanted, from jewellery and clothing to ammunition and money.

°It was a wonderful time together, in which not only did Franco one day get his suit from her and he gave her the golden necklace with a blue gem as a pendant after she had cut a ball for him and vice versa. They had the same sense of humour, the same background and, above all, they were the first to really trust each other. A trust that ended in a loud argument with the law and Murkoff, a fight with Franco and the use of all the ammunition and grenades they had. ,,This doesn't look good," she said, throwing her last grenade before she pushed through and winced as she heard the hit men scream, ‘The fuckers won't let up… I don't think this is going to go well, darling,’ she heard Franco say and looked over at him in amazement. His hand was on hers for a moment as they both saw the grenade of the police officers and pressed themselves against each other to minimise the damage. He only ever called her darling when he was sad, overjoyed or completely desperate, and it looked like they were up to their necks in shit.

°On that dark night, the two surrendered, taking a few more policemen with them to their deaths through knife wounds, bites and blows, before Murkoff put an end to it with a stun gun and took the two of them away. From then on, they were separated from each other. The time was dark and hopeless, but again and again she found a few teeth in her cell, bloody teeth, and she collected them. She knew, no, she was one hundred percent sure that it was Franco who wanted to tell her something, to show her something. ,,I am with you," she heard his voice and tried to find him in her trials. Finding what ended with a glance at his Lupara and they both paused before a big smile crept onto his lips, ,,Franco!" she shouted happily, took his hand and pulled him into a long embrace, feeling the the pain in his life, the bullets, the injections and the pain… but now, now they were finally together. ,,Finally together again and now forever," he said, handing her the revolver he had kept.

°,,Well then, darling, let's punish a few bad guys!" he shouted, loading his gun before they roamed his territory together, slaughtering everything like back when they were still outside, and between the shrine, they found dismembered bodies and gutted . Franco and she were found sitting together on the bed again, drinking from a glass of wolf's milk and finally able to do what they both enjoyed most: being together as best friends in a place where they could do whatever they wanted, together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ramontism , @millie-milkshake , @lovesick-on-the-loose , @gummibrit , @cuddlecow , @zsatuka

[foxieflower]

What would Eddie Gluskin be like in an AU where he got the help he needed? Maybe he finally became a father like adopted a child, ( honestly can't see him with a women because of his past) so maybe a single father?

There's another anonymous message besides this one but this is a quicker message than the other but I PROMISE TO GET TO BOTH..

Anyways, I don't think Eddie would adopt a kid nor do I even think he is straight. I personally believe any and all of his comments throughout the asylum riot are entirely created by his father's comments towards him as well as the engine's doing. And I personally believe he wouldn't pursue it if he got help as he would unravel a lot of that forced thinking/nuclear family nonsense.

So I think if he got the help he needed from the beginning and never ended up in Mount Massive, the man would thoroughly understand and realize what happened to him was terrible and start to deal with his own preferences. He learns he is, in fact, gay and then is further able to unwrap the negative feelings he had towards women and never become a nasty man like his father. I think he eventually would become a tailor, but never pursues school as he thinks he aged out of his chance after having to deal with his trauma all his youth.

If he's getting help after surviving the asylum, I often look to "To Be Well" for a lot of my ideas and theories on how I like to heal up Eddie. I like the idea of there being a collective to help those hurt by Murkoff. A community built on people able to work through the trauma together and so on. Due to it being after what he had done he has a lot more to work through and takes a long while to completely wake from the damage done from the Engine. Eventually he does grow and heal from the help and all that, but after the obscene amount of trauma, he does stay to himself more.

As a Weddie lover, of course, Waylon is in there too depending on how the timeline goes.

[goldenponcho]

Dr. Roxanna Gorman

This turned out more detailed than I thought it would. Here’s a preview of my Outlast Trials Prime OC coming in the next chapter of Milkbones, taking place in 1999 when Murkoff reopens Sinyala, waking the assets from cryogenic stasis where they’ve been stored for further use, and making Roxanna their new addition.

Rox is a 33 year old animal lab tech, who after taking a new job released all of the predators in their collection upon the other scientists after learning of the cruel experiments they were performing. She went on to instead experiment on humans, targeting those who expressed noticeable apathy toward nature and the environment in general. She will often eat the remains when her experiments are complete or cannot resume further. She is also a HUGE music lover of all kinds, but especially metal and punk.

Murkoff was already keeping an eye on her by her late teens, but after the lab incident, they made attempts to admit her to a new facility. Her mother did a lot to keep her daughter safe even after her tendencies came to light, but after her death, Roxanna was hunted down and captured. Five years into her stay, she was subject to the current model of the morphogenic engine, when she experienced a long phantom pregnancy as women always end up doing. Soon after, she ended up carving her teeth and nails (which had grown think and hard after the engine) into points, making sure she had the best defense possible in this place. She was then used as a Guinea pig to test out a couple of sensory enhancing devices, which greatly enhanced her hearing and sense of smell.

Her code name given by Murkoff is “Beethoven” both after the composer and after the Saint Bernard from the movies.

She has a complicated outlook on the other Assets. For example, she absolutely DESPISES Leland Coyle, pissing him off any time she can, but she also really enjoys spending time around him because she can’t help finding him genuinely funny and a good time. She’s a big fan of Mother Gooseberry, and she’s honestly fascinated by Franco, both disturbed but also…CURIOUS about his proclivities.

[joz-yyh]

Love Host - Ch. 8 (Preview)

SUMMARY: Miles and Waylon meet up for some diagnostic testing that takes a very drastic turn. No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: T (for this chapter ONLY!!)

PAIRING: Walmiles (WalriderxMiles)

WORD COUNT: 1,211

A/N: Doing my best to keep focused on these two long enough to finish another chapter. Comments and likes are very appreciated.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–——

Clang, Clang, Clang--!

Waylon looks up from his computer chair at the pedantic knock, knowing who his pertinent guest should be, double checking the security feed just to be sure Murkoff wasn't paying him any surprise visits.

There on the monitor, is a quiff of black hair and ugly olive jacket he'd recognize a mile away. Speaking of Miles –

Waylon opens the bean hole to the main door, the grinning blue eyes of Miles fucking Upshur waiting for him on the other side.

“Hey there, WayWay, I am here for my check up,” he greets with a smile, the wave he offers just out of sight, “Oh yeah, and Wally’s here too.”

The words barely register before the nanomachine has its whole face pressed against the peephole, staring back at Waylon, completely eyeless.

The techie nearly jumps out of his skin, shutting the slat out of paranoid instinct, body wrecked by a wave of heebeegeebees.

He can see it. Why can he see it when he couldn’t as much before?

“Heeeeyy,” Miles whines, voice dampened by the steel barrier between them, ”I am still waiting out here.”

Waylon internally groans, trying to collect himself enough to unlatch the many bars securing the entrance shut.

When the final lock cracks loose, Miles is too busy comforting the Walrider to notice, holding its caricature of a face and daresay, petting it.

“Ah, you can c-come in now,” Waylon offers, standing in the doorway, watching on with morbid fixation.

“There, see,” Miles exclaims, a consoling note to his voice, “He wouldn't invite us in if he didn't like us.”

Waylon swears this scene must be slowly melting his brain from the inside out.

“Hey, Way,” the brunette asks, turning his attention to his fellow asylum survivor, “could you tell Wally that you like him, please? He thinks you're scared of him. Isn't that silly?”

He isn't scared, he's terrified.

“Yeah, s-sure. I like him,” Waylon offers weakly, swallowing down his dread.

This was absurd. A machine couldn’t have feelings and even if it did, they were none more important than his own.

“Told you! Everything's fine,” Miles chippers, the Walrider finally appeased by this discovery.

The machine gazes toward Waylon again, breaking it’s body down into smaller pieces, swooping in close to swirl around Waylon knees, then higher, drifting in a cyclone of miniature storm clouds up to his shoulders.

“Uhh, hello again, I guess,” the engineer offers shakily, trying to appear fearless and brave, even lifting a finger to touch the nanite mist surrounding him. It feels like water.

“Thanks Waylon,” Miles says, patting him on the shoulder in good sportsmanship, stepping inside.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

And just like that, the nano machine leaves him to follow it’s host, the dazed software engineer reminding himself that he needs to rearm the door.

Before the reporter can poke his nose in further, Waylon locks the paddock, turning on the electric fence to deter any unwanted trespassers.

“So this is where you’ve been holding up,” Miles asks, taking in the abandoned barracks, a dimly-lit trailer filled with a junkyard of abandoned tech.

The Walrider is equally curious, ghosting around the layout, dosing the army green interior in supernatural mist.

“Not quite,” Waylon amends, running a hand down his face, feeling overwhelmed by the quirky demands of his company, “This is where I work. Keeps me a safe distance away from Lisa and the kids in case anything happens.”

“Safety is important. I am sure there are no OSHA recordables in here,” the snarky brunette remarks, dodging under a duct of loose wires.

“Ha ha funny,” the blonde remarks, devoid of amusement, “the device I want to show you is over here.”

Waylon grabs him by the wrist cuff before Miles can slip away to snoop, escorting him to the testing room.

“Aren’t you going to give me a tour first,” the sleuth whines, taking in as much of the space as he can, “you can’t tell me you have a secret lair and not show me around.”

“There's really not much to see,” Waylon growls, noting his companion’s inquisitive fingers, “Also please stop touching everything.”

“Awwww,” Miles whines, dragging his feet in disappointment, a frown setting in.

“Fine, maybe later,” the techie relents, his stride persisting, “We're kinda pressed for time.”

“Oh, somewhere you gotta be,” Miles asks, perking up at that confession, raising a brow at his companion, letting himself be tugged along more easily.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to be home every night to be with my wife and kids.”

A long pause, their combined footsteps echoing off the iron grates that line the floor.

“Am I invited,” the reporter asks, smirking at the back of Waylon’s unkempt head of hair.

Another aggravated tug on his sleeve.

“Let’s just get through the testing first.”

They arrive at their destination, the very back of the bunker, a T-shaped hub. One of the doors is sealed off, making Miles wonder what could be hiding in there, the rest of the room encased by steel shelves filled with gutted parts, radios, computers, phones and the like.

In the center is a chair outfitted with restraints, a litany of auxiliary cords hooked up to various loadouts, a desk and computer terminal set up in the corner, no doubt to collect the data of whoever sits in it.

“So … this is it,” Miles says judgmentally, unimpressed, “Looks like an electric chair, but somehow more revenge of the nerds-esque.”

Waylon smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. He won’t deny it bears a striking resemblance to Mount Massive’s brainwashing devices, ones he had the untimely pleasure of experiencing for himself.

“Yeah, everyone's a critic. Just get in.”

“Is it safe,” Miles asks, skeptical of the bad vibe he was getting just looking at the creepy thing.

“As safe as any of this experimental tech is gonna be.”

Miles supposes he can’t complain, given the circumstances. He doesn’t get any of these gadgets, but there was no one else he could turn to (aside from maybe Wernickle) who could give him the answers he seeks. Still, the reporter can’t help feeling a bit uneasy about entrusting himself to diagnostic tools on a budget.

The Walrider manifests itself as a disembodied head, whistling through it’s cheeks, seeking to reassure it’s host with a trill of sound. Miles smiles, close-lipped, stroking the odd contours of its face with a gentle hand.

“Alright. I mean we’ve come this far. What other choice do we have?”

With that, the anxious human hybrid takes a seat, the next test subject for this experimental apparatus going on torture device. Waylon straps him in, tying the buckles too tight to be comfortable, but Miles suspects it's punishment for trying to pry into the engineer's private life. His head too is bridled in place, another belt across the forehead to keep him securely in an upright position.

“This will monitor your heart rate,” Waylon says, electrode pads stuck to Miles’ temple, and then after a moment a disclaimer, “I am not a doctor, though.”

“You’ll be able to tell me more about the Walrider, right,” the brunette asks, nervously clenching his hands on the arm rest.

Waylon hesitates, less than confidently offering a, “Yeah,” in response.

[luvisia]

@TheRedBarrels: Inter-Organization Letters Only, Murkoff Collections.

[francobarbi]

ENOUGH negativity in the Franco tag!!!

It is time for some positivity and love again. I AM GOING TO GUSH, AND FRANCO FANS, YOU SHOULD GUSH HERE TOO!

Franco Barbi is a very well-crafted character and a perfect addition to the fucked up family dynamic found among the prime assets in the Sinyala Facility so far.

Everything about the way he was delivered to us is perfect to me. I was so excited for Franco's arrival in the days leading up to Project Lupara that I struggled to sleep or focus on anything else! Red Barrels gave us an absolute gift.

His map is stunning, his design is top tier and packed with character and perfectly conveys who he is just with one look! His voice is insanely good, another perfectly casted and directed addition to the list of talents that bring life to our favs in Outlast. I re-read his Murkoff Collections entry more than anything else on the RB site, because it's so visually stunning and the writing is so fun.

Franco is a fun, charismatic, intriguing character. Since his release I have had so much fun in this fandom. I love seeing the new life he brought to us. When I see other Franco fans sharing this ENERGY, this creativity, spending time and effort crafting pieces of fanart and writing or even just silly little shitposts and sharing them for others to see, I am just so happy. I love our devoted little community.

Please don't ever tone it down. FLOOD the Outlast tag with your beautiful pieces of art, your screenshots, your edits, your shitposts, your thoughtpieces. Bambino is here to stay <3

[inky-snowdrop]

Love Is Love

A 2023 L.G.B.T+ Aesthetic Collection

Day 25 • Val is Transgender!

Day 24 • Day 26

👇🏽 Pride Headcanons Below! 👇🏽

🩵•🩷•🤍

Like what the Red Barrels team said in regards to Val's gender identity... "Val is Val." I headcanon that Val uses both they/them and she/her pronouns, but definitely connects that her feminine side quite a bit

Growing up in Temple Gate left very little room for gender identity exploration. Val was born male and was expected to behave as such by Father Knoth. The brainwashing from Murkoff and the cultists led Val down a very dark and lonely path for many years. It wasn't until after they'd killed dozens of newborns and raised many children that she decided enough was enough

From that dark path came the light of their God. Through her sexuality, they were able learn what felt right about themselves and what needed to change immediately. Several others in Temple Gate followed her example an experimented, a renaissance of love and sex allowing the repressed members of Knoth's cult to finally be set free. Through physical touch, Val found themselves and their purpose

Val was used to sitting on top of the clouds, gazing down at Knoth's sheep with the tender adoration of a butcher. Now, with her heretics running free in the Mines and unearthing all sorts of forbidden earthly pleasures, Val was living in the mud... And they absolutely adored it. The connected to the Earth, the mother of all things living and dead, made Val feel more at ease with herself; It helped her love with her entire being and not just the flesh.

God couldn't reach them down below in the womb of Mother Nature. Val would leave him to Papa, allow their Father to do as he pleased the paper thin copy of true euphoria. God could get fucked all he pleased, but he would never know the true bliss of a woman's embrace... Not like Val did, not like how her followers did. Isn't that the truest blessing of them all? To know that they could feel something that God could not?

If Val had to pick a song to describe her gender, they'd pick: Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA

🩵•🩷•🤍

[meice4]

More Camera Trio Headcanons (because I'm bored lol)

Part1

- The three of them are dog persons, but they ended up adopting a stray kitten, and fell in love with cats, now they love both.

- The cat favours Miles, even though he almost never feeds it or clean it's litter box, and it angers Waylon because he and Blake are the ones who do everything for this cat.

- Miles and Waylon are always actively working to expose murkoff, while Blake is.. just there. It's like the two adopted him and kept him around.

- Blake tries to be useful by doing house chores and cooking, sadly he's not very good at it, his efforts are appreciated though. Waylon is the best at cooking but he's not always free to cook, Miles isn't good at cooking and knows how to cook basic easy meals only.

- Miles suffers from insomnia, he takes sleeping pills most nights.

- The sight of white dresses gives Waylon PTSD.

- If one of them gets sick, the other two never leave the ill person's side.

- Miles has a fear of clowns.

- Waylon used to love watching horror movies, not anymore.

- Blake used to collect lego sets.

- Waylon was PISSED when he discovered that Miles and Blake doesn't wash their rice.

- (I love permanent damage on fiction so..) Waylon limps and sometimes needs a stick to walk, Blake can't girp anything tightly or make a fist, Miles can't write as fast and had to relearn most of basic things he used to do easily.

[bloodred2023]

Augusnippets Day 7

@augusnippets

waterboarding | drowning | choking

Title: can’t saw off this chain

Summary: Miles wants to further investigate, but Waylon isn’t on board.

Fandom: Outlast

Relationship: Miles Upshur/Waylon Park

Wordcount: 386

Rating: M

Warnings: arguments, threats of violence, choking

“But the exit is…” the other way.

Waylon took a couple steps toward the hallway. Hoping, that Miles would finally get it and follow him. Once he stepped back into Mount Massive, he couldn’t shake the feeling of doom. Like he was the next breath away from getting violently his head bashed in. Overcautious, Waylon had looked every two seconds over his shoulder.

Miles’s scoff and a look of disapproval didn’t give Waylon much hope.

“You are the only sane person left, who knows how to circumvent the IT systems.” He closed the distance between them. “So, you move your IT ass along, we dig up some more dirt on Murkoff, and leave to publish our findings.”

Raising his hands, Waylon took a couple steps back. His whole nervous system screamed warnings at him. He did enough already. And now Miles was ruining a golden chance to escape. By dragging him again into the mouth of the beast.

 “I know, but even being here, coming back here is not worth it. I collected enough evidence, you surely also. They are still here and will capture or kill us.”

Like this was his final statement, he went with firm steps towards the exit. To his surprise, there came no answer behind him. With a big step, he avoided a big blood pool on the beige carpet.

He felt his back hit painfully the wall. His surprised scream was cut short by hands wrapping around his throat. All attempts to get air to his lungs don’t give him enough.

Desperately, he sank his fingernails into Miles’s wrists. The cold laugh let a shiver run through him. At least, he allowed him to barely get enough air without passing out.

“Ah, this is how you play hard to get.” Miles’s voice dropped to a whisper, his face coming too close for comfort. “I can choke you out and you wake up in front of a computer when this is what you want. Not a problem.”

It took all strength in him to not hurl insults at Miles. After a moment of silence, he slowly dropped his arms at his sides.

“I can still walk just fine.”

Without a word, Miles let go.

Coughing, Waylon rubbed his hurting throat. This was a fine grave they were digging for themselves here.