Colored sketch that I had a little too much fun with. Sorry I've been starving you guys of Sakura Sweet Tea, Serverblight Factions has taken quite a bit of my time Q^Q, but I hope to get back to it soon!
There’s a lot of footage but I have my voice in it im so sorry AUGH
ANYWAYS
my mii and my bf’s me ARE GONNA GET MARRIED he proposed omg it was so cute but they can’t marry yet 🥺🥺 my bf told me to wait and not age them up 🥺😔
Dell has a fat crush on my oc Duel ;3 so silly but duel is an idiot and can’t see that 😭
AND PROGRESS YES MISHA IS SUPER INLOVE WITH LUDWIG GUYS!!!! Its so funny they love eachother so much and move in together (their home is called oktoberfest, see a lot of people call their ship that :3) and they still haven’t confessed to eachother AUGH!!!
And I didn’t get a picture sadly BUT…me and my bf’s miis finally moved it…marriage before living together ig lmao
Pairings: Medic X Heavy / Scout X Miss Pauling / Scout’s Ma X Spy / Soldier X Zhanna / Engineer X Original Character / Saxton Hale X Maggie
Warnings:
- Threats of Violence
- Violence
- Gore
Words: 1849
Summary: When the world goes to shit, in order to survive, you need to be ruthless, and you need to be prepared to do whatever it takes. When nine strangers and their families come together to fight back the zombie plague, tensions will rise between them all, threatening to pull them apart and kill them from the inside-out. It’s a shitty summary, I know. ^^
Enjoy!
The afternoon lecture had always been a slow trek to the day’s end. By this time, most students were far too exhausted and unmotivated to continue their work. Majority of them just wanted to return to their dorms or go out with friends; have some time to relax and recuperate from a long day of studying.
Mikhail didn’t often sympathise with his class, but the sluggish pace of the day had weighed him down over the hours. He felt just as tired as his class appeared to be, and beneath his eyes, he could feel the stress sinking his expression and morphing his voice to a deep mutter. He was thankful none of the class seemed to care, as it would have been an embarrassing moment of weakness.
He cleared his throat; only a few heads turning to pay attention.
‘Well, it seems the day has left us behind.’ A few of the students seemed sheepish, hiding their red faces behind their books or hands. ‘Perhaps, we will end this session early, and we can pick this up tomorrow.’ He offered the way out to his students with a tired smile.
Those that were awake, eagerly accepted.
Students hurried to gather their notes and books, tucking them away in their bags and beginning to dart with newfound energy to the exit. They offered Mikhail a hurried ‘thank you’ as they took off, or a wave if they were too lazy to speak.
The Russian stood up and rounded his own desk, heading up the line of pitched desks, beginning to awaken those that had crashed. A few leapt up, fuelled by the fear or worry of being scolded, but were relieved when he allowed them leave. Others took their time to awaken, dragging their whole weight out the door with his prompting.
It wasn’t long before the lecture hall was quiet and empty, save for Mikhail himself.
He had some paperwork he needed to complete, but he could just as easily take it home with him. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, the one that had ticked by at a snail’s pace for the last hour at least. The hour alone had felt like 12; glaringly cruel whenever one had sought comfort that the day’s end was approaching.
The time read 3:37pm.
He still had plenty of time before his engagement with a friend.
He pulled his phone out of his breast pocket; the electronic seemed frighteningly fragile in his hands. It reminded him of how his students had stared at him when they first attended his classes. His size, stature and gruff, accented voice seemed to intimidate most of them when they first met him. Many had stared at his hands in particular; scarred and calloused from Mikhail’s years of work and abuse.
Despite being a professor of literature, Mikhail seemed more the part of a hardened war veteran. It had been commented on many a time, mostly behind his back when they thought he couldn’t hear. Apparently, he scared people. Mikhail didn’t necessarily mind the thought, as being feared meant he had a modicum of respect from his students and fellow staff members.
He tapped carefully at the little buttons on his phone, watching as the screen was lit up with numbers. Finally, he pressed the call button and brought it to his ear. He waited.
One ring…
Two rings…
‘Misha!’ He felt the air in his lungs release with his relief. He was always scared of the potential that his mother or sisters would not answer the phone. Too much had happened in their family history that he was relieved when another day went by without hassle.
‘мама.’
‘It is so good to hear from you, and so soon!’ She seemed happy. That was good. ‘You don’t normally call until you are on your way home.’
‘да, well, I ended class early. Students too tired to continue.’
‘That is a shame.’ He could almost hear the pout from the other end of the line. ‘You are very smart, Misha, and I know how you love to discuss your passion.’
‘I am not upset, мама. Just frustrated. Day has been going on for far too long.’ He said, running two, thick fingers across his eyes. He could feel the dry tears in the corners of his eyes, and felt an itch as he attempted to rub the sleep away.
‘Hm… I can agree with that. Yana and Bronislava have been out all day and…’ She trailed off, his mother seemed hesitant to speak. He felt concern rise and clench deeply at his heart.
‘What happened?’
‘It’s Zhanna…’
‘Is she hurt?!’ He felt panic rising, not bothering to grab his classwork but making a move to the door so he might hurry home. Or to the hospital. Or to wherever his sister might be.
‘нет, she claims she is not hurt, my son. Not physically.’ He slowed a little, felt the panic lessening, but he kept moving. He didn’t bother to lock the lecture hall behind him, as he expected the janitors would notice in their nightly routine.
‘I’ll come home.’
‘нет. Misha… I don’t think she wants to see anyone right now.’ He stopped, and instead of worry, he felt fury beginning to boil his blood. He kept his voice low so he couldn’t be heard.
‘I will crush him.’
‘Ah, Misha, you know we cannot be doing that.’
‘He broke Zhanna’s heart.’ His eyes glanced about for any other sign of life. Apart from his own class, that he had released early, all other classrooms were still shut tight and not a soul was in the halls. ‘Little man will pay.’
‘да, he will. However, we cannot be the ones to make him pay. Zhanna loved him, and this is more than just him breaking it off with her. Mikhail…’
When she used his full name, it never meant anything good was going to be said next. He prepared himself, expecting to hear what he had heard before. The man Zhanna had taken an interest in thought her too loud, perhaps too overbearing. Maybe he was intimidated by a woman just as strong as he was and potentially taller too. Maybe an insult had been hurled her way; not uncommon but still unforgivable.
Zhanna had always been a hopeless romantic, and had sought out someone that suited her well. Instead, she tended to scare even the kindest men away, and Mikhail just didn’t understand it. She was beautiful, strong-willed and loyal to a fault.
‘She told me Peter had been feeling unwell. She had gone to see him, taking some borscht with her to liven him up.’ Always a good choice. ‘Oh Misha…’
‘What happened?’ He repeated again.
‘He hurt her… He attacked her, Misha.’
‘что?!’ He felt himself seething, clenching his free hand in rapid succession, as if squeezing an invisible stress toy. ‘He dare hurt sister?!’
‘He didn’t do much, but she came home with bruises on her arms. He even bit her hard on the hand when he grabbed her.’
CRUNCH!
He didn’t mean to break the phone in his grip, but how dare someone do something so cruel to Zhanna! She who wore her heart open, on her sleeve for all to see. She was a sensitive soul who didn’t deserve the cruelty that wicked men had lashed out with.
He didn’t have the time, or the ability, to call Dell and let him know their afternoon coffee was off. Dell knew not to worry if Mikhail was unable to come, the Texan always patient with the ups and downs the Garin family had faced over the years. He was a constant kindness in Mikhail’s life, always polite enough to just sit and listen when he could afford it.
Dell would have to wait.
He stormed quickly and with purpose through the halls towards the exit; those rare students and staff that he passed parted ways for him quickly when they noticed the oxen man move towards them. By the time he was in the parking lot, he nearly tore the door off the car itself, taking a seat within the tiny vehicle.
It creased his body and forced his spine into a hunched position. He filled up the front window almost comically, but the deathly glare in his eyes shut up any laughs from onlookers. He reversed, peeling out and into the middle of the lot, and then begun his drive home.
Through it all, the radio was tuned to the classical station; the fine sound of an orchestra helped to soothe his anger, but not deplete it entirely. The violins, by far his favourite of the instruments, almost massaged the pulsing, burning ache in his head with their lulling choir. It helped, if only a little, and if only for a short time.
As Mikhail continued his drive deeper and deeper into city streets, he started to notice an unusual hustle amongst the pedestrians. There was an unending ring of sirens as police cars and ambulances cut through the traffic, and officers attempted to redirect it down different streets.
Through it all, there was a sudden cacophony of gunshots, and screams ripped through the pedestrians as they took to the road. They hurried between the crawling automobiles, banging on windows and attempting to open doors in their haste to escape whatever was happening. One woman had latched onto Mikhail’s own car, a large, red gash across her cheek. Her lip was bleeding and her hands were scratching at his passenger door desperately, creating a fine line of white scratches across the metal.
He went to unlock the door, to allow her safety, when another person (man or woman, Mikhail couldn’t tell) half tackled her to the floor. He opened his own door, about to pull the figure off of her. That was, until they turned their head, revealing their chin and mouth stained with blood, teeth tight around a piece of flesh. The woman was still gasping, reaching out to him, eyes half-lidded as sleep threatened to take her.
‘Help…’ He could hardly hear her, especially after that creature suddenly turned on him. He leapt back, in time for the creature to miss planting its own teeth in his arm. He gripped the back of its head, large fingers tangled through its mess of hair, and planted its face to the concrete with as much force as he could muster. It was like a watermelon was crushed under his weight, as the head came apart with ease.
Blood ran down his hand and wrist. He looked down at the woman, who now laid there, unmoving. Beyond the traffic, a crowd had formed of people racing to escape the chaos. More gunshots. More screaming.
Mikhail didn’t return to his car. At the rate the traffic was moving, he wouldn’t be able to get out in time before more of those creatures came. He abandoned his vehicle, and turned to follow the road out of the city.
Get yourself some more Dell x Erin in the style of Arcana's Templars (One of the stories we're working on on the Abyssal Feathers channel).
I imagine the story actually being pretty similar to OG Sakura Sweet Tea, with this version of Erin breaking a wing instead of her bike malfunctioning. Due to the differences between Valaiskuri (what Dell is) and Silfri (what Erin is), their romance is considered very odd. Even tho children are viable between them. There would be quite a bit of pushback, and even possible violence for the two of them if they ever openly were romantic. However, Erin is a rebel and Dell is a former merc, I think they'll be fine.
You could tell who the favorite parent was when their kids were little.
I tried to make the "Nap Time" illustration look like an actual picture, idk how well I succeeded with that, but hopefully it at least looks good lol. I free handed the whole piece, too, which I wouldn't recommend, but I was too lazy to find a good perspective reference. Turned out well all things considered.
From the oldest to youngest, the daughter with the black hair and goggles is Shiori, the daughter with the strawberry blonde hair and pink dress is Marie, and the baby cradled in Engie's arm is Daichi, their only and youngest son.
Erin won a bet that let her name all the odd number kids. Engie got the even numbers. She even thought about letting them have another kid just so her husband could have an equal number of kiddos he got to name, but Engie shot that down, as it didn't really matter to him.
What did matter to him was the simple fact that he adored being a dad, and loved his kids more than anything in the world. Engie would often just grab on of his kiddos, raise them above his head (them squealing with delight all the while) while yelling with joy "I helped make this!!" with the biggest smile on his face. Out of all his creations, Dell and Erin's children were his greatest.
Also, please forgive the google translated Japanese, I still don't know the language, lol
