Static Au - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
Old cesar + mark, cesar concept art / unused drawings
Everyday gets . . . Part 9 - static au
It's not enough to cut off what has bit me. My fate has been sealed away forever. Amputating my arm will not be enough, even if needed. I can already feel myself being eaten inside out. I need to keep them safe until I can, it's my job, isn't it? I need to keep them safe.
NOTES: Stage 4 and post victims do not seem to see each other, all other senses are present. Every transformation varies on person, we have given labels to the ones we know so far. Jonah has seemed to have spared Adam. It may be possible that the entities have some sort of comfort-spots for some people. I promise to bring as much information before it's too late. Regards, Thatcher Davis MCPD
MASTERLIST (wip....)
[STATIC AU]
Main story and parts :
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
PART 7
PART 8
PART 9
PART 10
i have no idea how to make masterlists
stop obeing mean to hgher
The Three The's (but on mspaint)
first and last time youll probably see me draw properly :sob: thatcher davis update tw: amputated / cut off arm (bandages)
I like to think that Cesar and Mark still keep their friendship on .
Mark has still some conscience and around some people that have some big memories , INFECTED people tend to act more 'normal'.
" Where's the cup " (in some ancient Latin)
"in the cupboard, mark"
warning for possibly unsettling imaginery, mspaint jonah!
Mark in the au vs tumblr mark (undercut contains kind of stylized but not eaten.. cat but yknow)
cna i just say. hi.. to all of them..... and hand them each a flower..... looks up at you with my big tearful eyes. plea.s..... /nf
A saddening event Part 10 - static au
Thatcher was writing on his desk, Ruth comforting him by patting his shoulder. " It can't be that bad. We amputated it, didn't we ? " Said Ruth, worryingly. " I'm done for. I need to be taken away, Ruth. I feel like something's growing inside of me. I don't want to hurt people. " Ruth sighed, leaving Thatcher by himself in the room, off to meet the others in the main room of the police station. " Can we do ANYTHING about Jonah? " Adam asked, looking at Ruth and Dave. The latter responded with a sigh, shaking his head. Evelin was sleeping soundly. Poor girl deserved it. It wasn't too long until they heard a rustling in the vents, followed by a fleshy noise. Ruth took her gun out, reaching an arm back to stay in front of the others. A weird hand reached for the vent, throwing it abruptly on the ground. A fleshy mess crawled down from the exit of said vent, looking around fearfully. It looked contorted, it's ribs went through his back , as if growing backwards. It's teeth were crooked, a whole chunk of it's skull was missing, it's arm was gone, replaced by a very spiky bone, the arm almost seemed to have been purposely misplaced on the other arm. It didn't attack, staying at a good distance from the group. There was one weird thing about it: a beautiful, red yet stained bow-tie. It seemed to be whining, covering it's face. Adam stood still, looking at the mess in front of him. ". . . Cesar?" He randomly guessed. The creature perked up, tilting it's head while matter got all over the floor. He was. . uhm. Alive, in some way. She crawled her way towards them but keeping a good distance. Adam looked around and put a brown paper bag on her head. Cesar seemed happier, and "stood" up to his full height, around 5'5. Either way, despite the sounds, he didn't talk. He couldn't . Ruth looked at Adam, lowering her gun. " What are we gonna do about this now ? "
jona :3 (tw for blood, possibly disturbing face imagery for some)
Happy BIRTHDAY JONAH MADE IN COLLAAAB WIIIITHH
@inkythewolf333
[ . . . ]
STATIC AU
Nothing would be able to numb the pain. Nothing will be able to numb the pain.
I can merely feel my flesh tearing apart slowly, I hear my heartbeat running strongly, and yet I am alive. The sweet relief of death is not enough to ease me from what I am going through.
If anyone, anything, somewhere, sometime can understand me.
I beg you to kill me. Let me die, let me leave this mangled, yarn like corpse that was once a human. I cannot recognize myself through any surface, through any layer of this foresaken consciousness I was cursed to have.
I will never forget how loud I screamed. How hard I fought. How I begged, and prayed, and cried. How I yielded for it to just kill me instead of putting me through it's foresaken, yellow, rotten teeth, and those eyes. Those eyes. How they'd constantly stare at me while I bled, feeling the rough, ruvid, concrete street. I didn't dare move, as if I did, I believed the pain would've worsened.
I can't keep going like this. I want to hug people again, I want to hold animals, I want to cook, I want to dress pretty again, I want to be complimented like I was once. I missed the warmth of words that strangers or friends or family would carry.
That sweet affection will never be given to me again.
I'm nothing but a mess of vital fibers.
I cannot be loved.
I will not be loved.
Hey