Post Apocalypse - Tumblr Posts

“It wasn’t the most ridiculous thing out there. Far from it.”

Brad then reminded Becky so far, the plan for human survival was a cave full of seeds in Iceland and some bunkers in New Zealand built by paranoid rich people with guns. He then restruck the pose.

“Now, what exactly did Becky have to say about the ‘outfit’ again? You know what, it doesn’t matter as no one needs to compete with zero coordination.”

Brad then turned to face Becky directly. “People go to jail for not having an emergency plan. What’s really messed up is nothing exists at the top level for all of us. Why was the human species as a whole so whacked anyway?”

Becky offered to get the next round of margaritas and motioned for Brad to rejoin his place in the cabana. Chris piped in to make them doubles then asked everyone where they should take that conversation. It was a pool day, the snarky could be tabled.

Brad thought it should go to Boise. Chris thought to shuffle it off to Buffalo citing his own disappointment in it’s obviousness. Becky didn’t know where to put it but thought enough to store it in Namibia. It was dry and sparsely populated so would preserve well.

She then guessed a doomsay plan could pass through countless generations unnoticed and undisturbed like Ring Around the Rosie. The coding on that was a bit whacked as the message did not make the impact it could have given it’s significance and pertinence to current global epidemics.

“It was from the Middle Ages so certainly credit could be given there. Did we need to attach trauma to children? It is safe to say there were no guns pointed at anyone.”

Becky went on to state the plague and assumed apocalypse remained daunting. To clear the way for the rest of their pool day while the larger whole got it’s act together, she suggested a temporary placeholder in lieu of a true master plan for the survival of the human species.

“It would need to be super simple and as close to universal as possible. Maybe a song is a good idea. Could we at least say, ‘Don’t panic.’ or ‘Florida is underwater. Think Nepal, not Naples.’

Becky took a sip of a now nearly toasted margarita.

“Of course, people would freak anyway, especially after discovering there was no master plan. It may though give us a moment of clarity before the madness where one out of 8 billion of us might just come up with a resolution.”

Becky further dove in the point explaining the problem even with her suggestions around all this lies exactly where it does in general, surfacing the best idea.

“The car alarm, censor/chat bots, a war on drugs, phone trees, microbeads in soap, beef hamburgers and the electric chair were lauded as genius at one juncture. The fact is the list is infinite, and we know better now. The more hoopla made over something, the more it felt like there was reason to question it.”

Becky then mentioned all the gimmicks around AI. “We really do not know what we are stepping into or better said, already have. For some time, no regulation existed around any of it. AI also did not automatically keep records in the same capacity as with previous technological advances. This was scary.”

All three were already well aware Brad and Chris’ issues with Tumblr stemmed out of bots and a culture difficult to interpret other than hellbent on efficiency and profit ironically at any cost to its own customers.

In an unrealized interruption, Brad interjected his shock, “I so did not associate the censorship with AI until now. That’s…. OMG. I mean… Look at the damage being done to the gay community alone. I didn’t place it. That hardly makes it any less real or hard hitting.”

Becky assured Brad in his reaction and offered some perspective as to what Brad and Chris faced. “There is not sufficient law, social construct, personal protection or compensation around AI. Overall, corporations and those of resource thus far have chosen censorship, ignorance, and to look out for themselves.”

She paused to readjust her composure into a near stand on her knees.

“That IS fear culture. Process exceeds person across the board here, and in the grand scheme everyone loses. You are literally taking the brunt here with your blog bradandchris.com.”

Seeing things materialize for the two, Becky switched gears quickly. “I say keep going. The Oregon Trail didn’t pop up out of nowhere. If you look around, you are not the only gays on the block either. Start your own thing or grind away just as the bots do to you. Eventually people pick up mirroring which is why we all do it where conversations can’t or do not happen for whatever reason.”

Becky scanned the pool looking for their server before returning her attention to Brad and Chris.

“To mirrors, why don’t you start Twittering? Musk is also weary of AI. You might find a home there. It would not hurt to try.”

Brad and Chris appreciated options and the former nodded in affirmation. The each knew they were not helpless, but not unaware any move required significant resources or losses.

As to her suggestion as to where to temporarily store the conversation of a need for master plan for a global emergency, Becky affirmed her choice in Africa. Humanity began on the very same soil, and the entire continent was bothering enough to take time for introspection.

She lived in South Africa for several years as a medical refugee from the United States Her insurance didn’t cover her condition and she needed to go somewhere cheap as well multicultural that came in English with a beach. It was that or Belize.

Chris who’d been quietly sunning at the edge of the cabana suddenly came to life. “Is that where ‘Please Belize’ came from? I’ve heard you say that and caught myself saying it. It’s mad addicting. I’ve tried to keep it to myself as I didn’t know what it meant. I forget to ask every time you are around. The last thing I need to do is offend more people out of the blue.”

Chris sat up to allow for his hands and arms to go full on Price is Right showcase. “I look really good in blue. Just look at my tiny swimmers.”

Becky nodded in affirmation took the last slip of the margarita in hand and motioned for the pool server that came into view to head their way. Satisfied they made contact and on their way over, she called Mars a ‘hellhole’ and reframed Twitter as a definite ‘maybe.’

She then mentioned she got her job assisting for Ralph Lauren after meeting him at the beach in Cape Town. That’s why she came back to the States. Her her stint abroad may also explain some oddities about her.

To bring everything full circle before the server arrived, Becky indicated her regret for using the Oregon Trail as an example. It wasn’t what she intended to say though she could not remember what that was. She pointed out while understandable as a selection, Boise left out half the population inclusive of herself, and that she didn’t know what a ‘shuffle’ was. It did not ring as something particularly evolutionary or bring much to her in terms of inspiration. It did remind her of apples for unknown reasons.

At the end of the day and to rest her case, it was fun to say Namibia.

“Namibia.”

Becky was so on her game.

Day VII

It wasn't long before the humans died off and the machines built by them were the only survivors left. The robots and AI developed over a few centuries to recycle the accumulated trash, thus making them effectively immortal. The Earth cooled by a few degrees as the only water was in the atmosphere, keeping the ground usable for plants.

The seeds in the ground and those that blew around became saturated with radiation that escaped from decrepit power plants and silos and storage facilities. Mutations were catalyzed and metal and plastic started to grow out of the ground.

One of many big companies, Trash, Recycling, and IgnitioN Services by Electric and Gas-GuzzlerS, TRaINS by EGGS mass produced trash compaction robots, among others. These, like the rest, grouped up like families, like clans. It was almost human.

Boolean lifted a pile of scrap before turning it into a cube. Then he heard the telltale whistle of something flying through the air at high speed. He took the brunt of it and rolled it to the ground. He absorbed the scrap, bulking himself up, then went to investigate what had launched the projectile.

What he saw after a few minutes was the opposite of what he expected: a war machine curled up, doing the robotic equivalent of human crying. She lifted her head as he drew closer.

"何が欲しいですか?"

Boolean cocked his head in confusion. He recognized the language, but not what it meant.

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux?"

Not even the slightest clue.

"¿Qué deseas?"

So close yet so far away. So he went with the one he knew. "英語を話します?"

She snickered at that, then, in a much less irritated growl, said, "What do you want?"

"Oh, uh.... I just wondered if you throwing that crane at me was on purpose? Looking at you now, though, it doesn't seem like it." Now that he wasn't trying to process language or body language, he saw her factory silver plating which was covered in dust and rust flakes. She got up and some of the debris fell off of her.

"Sorry about that. Just alone and sad. I was sent here to find life, but aside from some weird molds and viruses, and you, I've found nothing."

"Well, if you're looking for humans or mammals you won't find any. They're all dead and gone. There aren't even any remains. But if you're looking at plant life, everything here came from carbon-based, photosynthesizing flora. Centuries back, but the DNA's still there, if you know where to look." He plucked a leaf from the ground. The rubber peeled apart easily when he opened it up.

"This is the most natural, well, most pre-apocalyptic, plant that grows now. One of the few carbon-based life forms here anymore." The silver robot looked at it, hunching to see and be less imposing. She analyzed it and, sure enough, nothing but hydrocarbons.

"Wait, what's your name? I'm Boolean."

"Evelyn."

In the far bee future... All is honey, but flowers are sparse.

A lil bee

Flesh and Bone | Chapter 1

My father always told me to never aim for the head. He explained that a headshot would always result in a murder. Murders, he said, were never necessary, no matter who it was you were shooting at. When he taught me how to use guns as a young girl, it was always for self-defense- that and hunting, which was a hobby of his. He taught me to always aim for the legs in order to immobilize the enemy. In situations like the present, however, I find myself having no other choice than to blow these fuckers’ brains out.

However, as I look down at the trembling, pathetic figure below me, my gun pressed against its forehead, I do not see the same lifelessness in its eyes as the creatures I’ve killed time and time again. In fact, it looks quite a bit like a real woman. I’m entitled to disbelief, however, as I haven’t seen another living human in weeks since the infection. 

“N-No! Please, please, don’t kill me!” she pleads tearfully, her voice shaking with a humanity I cannot deny. “I promise, I-I’m not one of those- those things! I’m alive! I’m-”

“Alright! Alright,” I reply coldly, slowly lowering my gun as I gaze down at her. I notice her blond hair is extremely unkempt and riddled with knots and dirt, dried blood encrusting and hardening strands of her hair. Her pale yet rosy skin is dusted with dirt and blood, giving her a rather pitiful appearance. She’s also covered quite a bit in a black substance, likely the fluids that leak from those wretched creatures.

“Th.. thank you,” the woman says, her breathing shallow and uneven as she stares up at me. “I.. I didn’t know there were.. any humans anymore.”

I give an acknowledging grunt, my blank if not hostile expression remaining as I slowly begin to inch away from her. I turn and begin to make my way in the opposite direction when I hear her voice again.

“W-Wait! Wait,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Please, I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any way of defense, I’m barely able to fucking survive. I need help.” 

I don’t turn to face her quite yet, frozen in my tracks as I listen to her. I stay silent for a moment, sighing softly as I frown at the ground below me. I haven’t even been in contact with another human being, let alone had to take care of one. I can’t possibly do this. It’s dog-eat-dog out here.

“Please,” the woman pleas again, her words now in a weakened whisper. She sounds as if she’s about to cry. “I-I’m scared.”

Her words suddenly pierce through me, more than anything has been able to for a long while. I remember being scared. God, what an awful experience. Feeling weak and helpless. Such bullshit.

I reckon a lot of people had to have been in her position when the infected first attacked. I wouldn’t know much of it, since my father had kept me as far away from the bloody scenes as he could. I only ever saw the aftermath. Dead bodies, creatures that are zombie in nature, and a once-thriving city in stained ruin.

This could have been me.

 Reluctantly, I turn to face her again, taking in the pitiful sight of her. My eyes dart to a few wounds on her body that look painful and possibly infected. My shoulders relax the slightest bit, and my scowl subsides. 

“Can you walk?” I ask lowly. I watch as she struggles onto her feet, but her limp is evident and distressing, and that answers my inquiry. I carefully approach her and lay one hand on her back and the other just above her knees before gently lifting her off of the ground and into my arms. She’s surprisingly light for a woman of her age and height, so I’m able to manage well.

Without another word, I once again begin to make my way through the broken-down city. The dust in the air seems to be ever-present, if it can even be considered air. With our chances, it contains the very chemical that started the infection. But thus far, I haven’t been harmed by it, and so I move on.

I remember when this place was a place of safety and security. With the streets flooding with life, and butterflies and birds fluttering in the air above. So many smiles. I know damn well it’s foolish as hell to keep reminiscing about it, but it’s near impossible not to. I do miss those days. 

But they’re gone. And they will not be returning.

__________________________

I stop at a small neighborhood house - its garage, more specifically - and delicately set the girl down so I can unlock the garage door and lift it open. I turn around to cautiously scan the area before turning back to the woman and helping her up. She grunts lightly when her wounded leg and arm bend as I move her, wincing as I carry her into the garage and set her on a red couch before I close the sliding metal behind me. I take a breath before turning around to face her again, studying her wounds from afar. 

Her expression seems a bit shaken still, which is reflected in her trembling body as well. I just can’t help but pity her. Though, that may be the surprise of seeing another person after all this time. I take my time to rummage around the room before taking a roll of gauze out of a dusty drawer that’s leaning against the cold wall and approach the girl, kneeling in front of her and unwrapping the gauze, beginning to wrap it around her leg wound first. I wrap it tightly, and she inhales sharply often, her leg twitching and jerking away at times in response to the pain. 

“Quit moving,” I scold. “I can’t bandage you if you don’t stay still.” She nods in understanding, and I notice that once I return to my work, she seems to manage enough for me to get the job done. She winces a bit, but she stays relatively still. Once I finish up with the wound on her arm, I pull away from her and look her over. 

She looks at me with a slightly confused look.“Are you.. going to disinfect it? Or.. or whatever you-”

“No. Not enough clean water for that,” I simply reply, wiping my hands off with a nearby cloth before standing up again. I make my way over to a chair a few feet away from the couch, take both my knife sharpener and knife out of my pockets, and begin carefully sharpening the blade, small sparks appearing in the wake of each swipe. There’s a bit of dried blood encrusting the metal, dirtying it.

“Who are you?” she asks. I don’t answer, not bothering to look up from my hands as she just looks at me, shuffling a bit in her seat, which I can hear. “I’m.. I’m Victoria.” Her pause sounds as if she’s forgotten her name for a second.

My eyes break away to look at her for a fleeting moment. “Liv,” I state with a tired exhale. 

“Short for Olivia?” Victoria inquires. I simply nod silently, lifting my knife a bit and focusing on my reflection in it.

“How have you been surviving?” she asks, her eyes gazing in my general direction, though I catch her staring particularly at my blade a few times.

I place my blade carefully back in my pocket and turn to her. “Chance- but combat skills and survival training do something.” There’s a pause of silence as I look at her bandaged wounds. I gesture toward them. “How’d you get those?”

“O-Oh, uh,” Victoria begins as if she wasn’t prepared for that question. “The monsters, or whatever they were attacked me. Not- not at the same time, but..”

“Hm.” I pause, staring at her with a quite baffled yet cold expression. “How the hell have you been surviving?”

She looks at me and laughs weakly. “I don’t know, to be honest- dumb luck? I don’t know if I even really want to. But dying doesn’t.. seem great, so, um. I mean, I’m just glad I’m safe now.”

I shrug. That’s fair. “Yeah, well,” I say with a low, barely sincere chuckle. “Nowhere’s safe for long.”

Victoria seems taken aback from the somewhat eerie statement, and I just look back at her. I know. “You get used to it.” My eyes scan her once again. She seems quite thin, dangerously so. Somehow I hadn’t realized it until now. “When was the last time you ate?”

Just the mention of eating seems to unsettle her as she recoils a little at my words. “I don’t remember. Four days, maybe? I swear to God, I don’t even know how many days its been since.. it all happened.”

I sigh. “I don’t have anything here,” I reply, looking at the cold, cement garage floor in thought. “Or- not anything you would eat, anyways. I’ll patrol around tomorrow to see if I can find any food that hasn’t been infected.” 

She doesn’t smile, but instead gives a grateful nod. “Thank you,” she says, her words all coming out in a large exhale, as if she’s been holding her breath. I nod in return. 

After another significant pause of silence, I lift myself up off the chair. “Well, I, um.. I suggest you get some sleep, Victoria. I can only assume you haven’t slept in a long time, so take some time to rest.”

She seems to almost want to protest, but she’s evidently much too tired to begin. She settles down comfortably on the couch I set her on and she closes her eyes peacefully. She curls up into a fetal position, likely to keep a bit warmer. I remember that this garage is quite chilled; I’ve grown accustomed to it, so I tend to forget. I look around a bit before my eyes find a fuzzy fleece blanket folded up on the desk from before. I pick it up, unfold it, and lightly let it fall onto her. I notice her lips curve to a very soft, slight smile. It warms my heart for a fleeting moment. I haven’t known comfort like this in a while. 

I pause in silence, smiling a bit at her. “You’re safe,” I whisper lightly, words I haven’t heard in what feels like years. In this moment, she reminds me of a young fawn that I once found with my father. 

The poor small creature was trapped in a hunter’s rope net. It was a pitiful, sadenning sight. I was the one who initially spotted it, and my father helped me cut it free.He caught it before it could fall. Its leg was sprained but otherwise it was okay. The young deer was a beautiful display of an animal, its white speckles on its back a sign of its youth. 

“Livvie,” he said, “Always remember that not every animal should be hunted. Not more than needed. These little guys deserve to live just as much as we do. Look at that face, ain’t he a cutie?” I remember laughing and reaching out to pet it, but it ran away. 

Maybe it’s foolish of me, but I don’t want this one to be the same. 

I sigh a bit tiredly and settle myself down on my inflatable mattress that lays on the opposite end of the room from the couch. I lay down with an exhausted exhale and pull a plush throw blanket over me from the edge of the mattress. My eyes flutter closed slowly and I drift off to sleep. 

We’re safe. I almost believe it.

Been getting back into Tumblr and I decided to start posting again lol

illustration work for a fun little AU i made with my friend! (pictured as the wolf, i'm the bat)

it's a story about a duo of friends in an apocalyptic world who survive by embushing fellow survivors and taking their stuff (mauling usually included)

the whole thing is grimey, has very grey moral standards and deals with how people resort to extremes in order to survive, and having nobody to rely on except your codepent relationship with your best friend

Please in the name of Apollo and Dionysus

I’ve been told by dozens of agents that there isn’t a market for my #ownvoices series about a group of queer kids surviving the apocalypse.

please reblog this if you’d be interested in an LBGT+ sci-fi YA book, I want to prove a point

My mad max hyper fixation is coming back I can feel it in my bones

I would love to learn how to create mods for fallout cause there’s so many things I want to see but i got the autism that makes me bad at anything required computers

An idea for the sole survivor,

Ok so, the bombs drop and the quality of life massively decreases (of course) along with the quality of air. At first it completely toxic and many of these who survive the initial bombs drop dead form the air pollution. But we as humans are incredibly resilient and learn to adapt, as time goes on people grow increasingly more resistant to the toxic air. 200 hundred years later, basically everyone in the commonwealth and all over post apocalyptic America is immune to the toxic air. But the sole survivor ,being pre war and trap in a freezer with no exposure to the radiation world (except for like 5 minutes when Kellogg kidnapped Shaun, waking everyone up). Hasn’t grown the immunity to the toxic air like everyone else. So they have to wear a gas mask or a rebreather everywhere or they choke to death cause of the radiation.

Does this make sense?

G R A P H T O B E R  2 0 2 0  |  J.10 S.02

Univers post-apocalyptique - dystopie

Mots-clés : apocalypse, années 2000, révolte, colère, rébellion ... 

Photo originale de Julio Cortez.

Merci à @graphtober @wiise pour le challenge ! ♥

Raised By Wolves (2020) Opening Credits Sequence by Studio AKA

please enjoy my post apocalyptic mood board

yeah so no matter how many times i see it, the mindless human wave in zombie film/tv literally never gets old. it's about the raw frenzy. the desperation. visually it will forever strike that perfect mixture of glee and horror into my little gremlin heart <3

Refuge (2022)

A short comic I did last year. It's been up on my itch.io for a while but I thought I might as well post it here too. I'm still very proud of the art on this one.

So! Working on some world building for my story idea “The Miracle Effect” so I made this map of one of the main locations, a little city-state called a Buena Gente.

A little bit about this place, it’s a magical post-apocalyptic civilization, home to both humans and an undead skeleton race. In fact, it’s the only known place where living and undead people live together! However, this comes with some drawbacks. due to their threatening appearance, the undead spark volence in people from other cultures. To protect themselves, the Buena Gentians have erected an invisibility field around thier lands. If anyone exits the field, they must do so in disguise. And this worked out very well, until the magic began to weaken...

Kent "Slim" Banesbridge

*Post apocalypse mechanic

*Can drive anything real good

* Being a human guinea pig kinda worked out

Wilder "Bone Fender" Crux

*Used to be an evil apocalypse overlord and a cyborg, now a spooky jackass AI no one but Kent can see normally

*Can possess and warp technology, hope he doesn't find a nokia

*The horns come attached

Finished redesigning one of my oldest Lisa OCs, an Olathian Warlord with a passion for medicine.

I had been working on a new look for him for a gooood while, the recent announcement of the definitive edition of Lisa motivated me to finish it :3

testing stuff for a new comic project