LET’S SEE HOW MANY OF US THERE ARE OUT THERE!
Reblog if you’re a Left4Dead/Left4Dead2 Ask or Roleplay Blog (including infected and original characters!) with the following information:
- Are you a survivor or a zombie?
- Are you in the apolcapyse? Before? After?
- Are you an artist? Writer? Roleplayer?
- Define your blog in 1 to 3 sentences?
- Link to your personal blog?
I’ll do it as an example. :)
- Survivor; Ellis, specifically~
- Ellis is post-apocalypse (it’s been over two years)
- I answer asks with fic, mostly. I’m closed to roleplay, sorry :(
- It’s mostly a Keith/Ellis shrine of fluff and porn fic and the stray gorey flashback fic regarding his apocalypse experiences. Definitely NSFW.
- Parashta. It’s a sideblog so I can’t follow back, but I creep on blogs through bookmarks.
Well, shit, Ah killed zombies erry which way yew can kill uh zombie… Which is purdy much th’same way yuh cud kill uh actual person ‘cept maybe uh lil’ easier cus after awhile awl th’regular ones got real’ feeble. Starvation ‘er fever ‘er sum shit.
This one time we found ourselves uh house tuh spend th’nigh’, y’know, in beds like normal folks. An’ it wus Nick’s turn tuh secure th’place - go upstairs, pick off any zombies, rifle in ladies’ jewelry boxes cus he’s uh asshole… An’ bein’ th’douchebag tha’ he wus, he didn’ check real’ good, an’ Ah had tuh pee…
“All clear, Nick?” questioned Coach with a hint of a growl to his voice, lips peeling back on a grimace as he lowered himself onto the squat brown couch’s dusty cushions. The furniture groaned beneath the sudden addition of his weight, the noise nearly drowning out the big man’s own grunt of relief at getting off his feet after a long day’s travel.
“Sure thing,” muttered the gambler as he came down the shadowed stairwell, hunching his shoulders a bit as he swept some grime free of his jacket sleeve.