#*newdawn

[suresaint-moved]

if you choose not to kill joseph seed in fc new dawn then zelda appears from out of nowhere to do it for you

[pertlips-blog]

CONTINUED FROM HERE. → @horrorempathy​

It is quiet in this old, emptied bedroom, with just the breeze seeping in through the broken window and the constant stream of sun shining against the floorboards, warming their legs. Dust dances and glistens in the bright light. Zelda listens to the faint chirps of the birds outside, and the ongoings of The Garden’s people as they chink away at stone, and plough through the fertile earth with their spades and their rakes, to plant seeds and grow new life. 

    It will take them all some time to wake up properly from the hibernation. Things are quiet, subdued, but there stirs a tangible excitement in the air, amongst the community. New hope. New faith. With each day that they work together to build a new home, scraping away at the plaque which remained of the old world, something beautiful emerges. Zelda can see it already. In the way Faith leads, and teaches, and talks about their future. Zelda can see all of it. The rise of new buildings, the abundance of young wildlife, of sprouting flowers, and children who won’t have to know war, just peace, and love, and simplicity. 

    Faith’s ring in the centre of her palm is like holding her heart in her hand, offering it up to the one woman who has had it, Zelda is certain now, since the very first moment Zelda had laid her eyes on Faith. Yes, that’s it. She had loved her from the moment she saw her, and has known that since their first kiss. Against that tree. Surrounded by nature. It will be gone now, she thinks. That tree. The letters of their first names carved into its bark. Maybe she will try and find it one day, just to see. It has been years.

    Zelda’s chest rises and falls steadily, her blue eyes never leaving Faith’s face. She waits, and lifts as Faith shifts her position, touching Zelda’s fingers. Do you want to put it on? On you? Yes. Yes. Since forever. Nerves keep her silent. She’s surprised to find that her hands tremble as she picks up the ring, cradling Faith’s hand in her’s, delicately easing the beautiful, golden band onto Faith’s finger. She is shaking terribly. But the ring fits perfectly. And what now? Because this is never how she thought it would happen. Yet, somehow, doing it now feels more right than it ever had before. The right time. A new dawn. New beginnings. 

    “You are everything to me, Faith.” She confesses. Zelda holds Faith's wrist, her spare hand caressing Faith’s fingers. “Let me help you create this new life you've envisioned. The two of us. You have my heart, here, in this.” That beautiful stone which she had dug from the bed of a bliss filled lake, and risen to see a girl in white dancing through the trees. Zelda turns Faith’s hand. Runs her thumb over Faith’s palm. “Be mine.” Forever.

[suresaint-moved]

Gets a Long Starter  Far Cry: New Dawn  ,  @mlotov  .

With an aged rucksack strapped to her back and a small tin box hanging from her side, she scales the rusted ladder attached to the side of the old grain silo to look upon what was once Holland Valley. In the distance, the sky grew pink, and yellow, and the faintest of pale blues. She didn’t stop to admire it, she only climbed higher and higher until reaching the top, and clambered over the railings with a slight grunt. 

The silo’s lid clunked and the sound reverberated inside of its hollow body as she stepped semi cautiously over it, perching herself at its highest point. She slid the rucksack from off of her back and held it between her knees, unzipping it and removing a red stainless steel flask. Steam rolled out from its top after she uncapped it, drifting off into the chilled morning air. Coffee. She had found a tub of it in the very back of a dusty cupboard, in a house that had been half destroyed during the bombs all those years ago. It smelt of better times.

The tin had still been sealed shut when she’d found it, and when she’d opened it and shaken the coffee grains out they had smelt as fresh as the day they had been harvested. She took a sip of it and burns the tip of her tongue. Too hot still. So she set it down by her side and rummaged through the bag again, this time taking out a packet of dried meat. There had been packs of the stuff left in a locker down in John’s bunker, and she’d felt obliged to take most of it with her upon resurfacing. It had taken a lot of self control not to eat it all. She knew if she did then she would be sick. Now she pressed a slice of jerky to her tongue and chewed slowly on it, dumping her rucksack to the side as she ate to take hold of the tin box fastened to her belt this whole time. 

She handles the box with more care than she had the rucksack, like what was inside of it was too fragile to handle it any other way, and finding the perfect place to set it down, directly adjacent to the sunrise, she opened its lid. The hinges creak. On the underside of the lid she had stuck some of the sketches which she had drawn in the years that she had been confined: of places, of people. Loved ones. A sigh escaped her and at last she settled down, like only now she found some semblance of peace, staring at one sketch in particular. 

         Mary May.

        “Is it a good likeness?” She asks, but her voice is all in her head.

[suresaint-moved]

❯   / starter call .  accepting  :  @survivedempathy .

Of  all  the things  she  has  witnessed  over  the  years,  it  is  the  tiny  baby  sleeping  soundly  in  her  arms  which  is  by  far  the  greatest  of miracles  she  has  ever  seen. 

They had been gifted with a child!

Zelda hears the gentle creak of the cottage floorboards, but she stays gazing at her daughter, tracing the tip of her finger so softly over the sweet slope of her button nose, her chubby cheeks, her small mouth. Who will you become? She thinks, watching her. What will you do as you grow up? “Do you think we all have a purpose in this life, Crowley? She shouldn’t have been possible, you know. But here she is.” And she is beautiful.

[suresaint-moved]

headcanon  time  ?  but  what  if  some  of  the  angels  survived  the  explosion  and  the  radio  active  energy  /  poison  actually  worked  to  combat  the  bliss  .  and  over  the  course  of  seventeen  years  some  of  those  angels  evolved  and  started  forming  actual  sentient  sentences  again  ,  like  they  are  all  of  a  sudden  aware  of  their  surroundings  .  alternatively  ,  it  mutated  them  into  very  dangerous  creatures  who  only  come  out  at  night  (  i  don’t  know  .  sensitive  to  light  .  )  and  now  the  survivors  have  to  deal  with  them  .  they’re  blind  but  can  hear  well  .  if  they  touch  you  ,  you’re  done  for  because  of  the  radiation  .  start  burning  up  and  blistering  after  a  few  days  .  just  another  threat  /  illness  that  will  need  to  be  combatted  alongside  the  arrival  of  the  highwaymen  .  would  make  for  some  interesting  threads  .  maybe  .

[pertlips-blog]

in far cry: new dawn you’re more likely to find zelda asleep amid a group of fluffy, baby cows than anything else. yes, they are all her children. call her the moother.

[pertlips-blog]

    she doesn’t want faith to know this,     how she regrets the last seven years,   that it is as large a loss to her as any.  all that time they could have had together,  ( growing! together! )  and it had been wasted all because zelda had wanted to play the hero,   gotten stuck some place too far from faith’s bunker  ,   too far for her to risk it.  the collapse had been imminent.  you were too late,  zelda!   the sadness comes in waves.  sometimes it is not there for weeks and  weeks,   and then it hits all at once,   like she can’t breathe.   

    she doesn’t notice link there,  wavy blonde hair coming loose as she pulls at it.  a nervous tic,  like biting her nails,  or chewing the skin from her lip.  too much time to think in those bunkers,  too much.   anxiety burrows,  like greedy fingers,  into the heart of a peach for its pip,  right there in her chest.  he startles her when she sees him out the corner of her eye. and covers her sight with her palms.  “  oh  -  link.  ”  shaky fingers.  “  didn’t see you.  ”

/  @survivedempathy /  sc.

[pertlips-blog]