Massive shoutouts to Mr Brollow, CallMeKevin, and Kezza for fueling all of my "research" for my fanfiction (watching a shit ton of videos). The world, mechanics, and zombies of my fanfiction are based around the game Project Zomboid, and I'm really bad at it. I don't get far playing alone, so I mostly watch other people play it. I've been watching these channels for a while, but it's been really nice to put on a two hour video and immerse myself in the world I've been trying to write in. And Kezza and Mr. Brollow have done some recent mutiplayer series that I've really pulled from in trying to work out how a survivor group would actually function.
If you've ever been interested in Project Zomboid, I can't recommend these channels enough. They're fantastic.
From his seat in the canopy, Gerik noticed the moonrays shining through the topmost leaves above. As the breeze dragged through the trees, shadows danced over his body, and he was grateful for the camouflaging effect.
Pwitt was asleep. Or at least, he hoped he was. The upturned pod the progeny sheltered in leaned against a most unfortunate tree, its long roots kicked up by the original impact. With the pod's seating now on its ceiling, Gerik had detached the cushioning and fashioned a bed for them. It was cramped and less than comfortable, but he knew how exhausted the progeny was. It was his hope that that exhaustion would be enough to overcome the traumatic thoughts that no doubt occupied Pwitt's mind.
The progeny was still so young. Too young for the traumas he had endured, and so swiftly. He had lost his parents, his friends, and his city cube in a single horrific day.
If he couldn't sleep, Gerik couldn't blame him.
But he could protect him.
So Gerik sat in the branches of the Maguuma jungle, keeping an eye on all that moved around their little clearing. More than once he had fought off hungry skelk and other curious fauna, but was so far relieved that no Pact patrols had discovered their location.
It was quiet-- Painfully so.
Staring up at the moon from between the leaves, Gerik wished desperately that his own troubled thoughts could be silenced. Ever since that horrible, accursed day, his mind tortured him with visions of what had happened after his unwilling depature. She had been injured, and the Pact outnumbered her..
Did she find some method of escape? Or had the Pact overpowered her in her weakened state, and captured her to do Alchemy knows what to her? Or had they killed her outright the moment they had the opportunity?
Gerik swallowed against further speculation, his eyes and nose already burning. There was no use in speculative despair. It only served to distract him, and he couldn't afford distraction now. Not with Pwitt to look out for. And not with the possibility--the necessity--that Kezza was still out there, waiting for him to reunite her with her progeny. And himself.
The fallen god’s defeated, but it is not the end yet. Kezza needs some rest after these battles.
Commission for @silvernis =v=~♥
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A commission for @silvernis of their character Kezza! This was a lot of fun and silvernis was amazingly patient with me as I bumbled my way back into commission work :)
