Oh trust me, the unofficial death of this fan fic isn't anyones fault, rather, it's just a collection of most of our private lives just taking up lots of our time. It'd real fun to get back to this, trust me, and who knows, maybe eventually, but as it stands it is still tough. It'd be nice to maybe try and coordinate with the group a bit and see if we can try something at least.
Oh trust me, the unofficial death of this fan fic isn't anyones fault, rather, it's just a collection of most of our private lives just taki… moreng up lots of our time. It'd real fun to get back to this, trust me, and who knows, maybe eventually, but as it stands it is still tough. It'd be nice to maybe try and coordinate with the group a bit and see if we can try something at least.
(Listen to this for extra atmosphere while reading: )
It had taken but a minute to escape the smell. It had taken but half an hour to es… morecape the deafening screeches. But hours later, the smoke was still visible.
Someone must have gotten the bright idea to burn the whole place to the ground, hopefully catch some of the walkers in the blaze. Quentin rubs the stubble on his sharp jawline, they prick like needles into the creases of his skin. He sighs deeply. This world has aged him. Just the other day he found his first gray hair among the dark roots of his ash black hair. It felt so petty to worry about getting old, of all things, during a time where most people don't last longer than a couple of months, a year at best. The problem may have been petty, but it was important to him. He could feel it when he stood up in the morning to start cooking for the women. When his legs could barely hold him after a mere two-hour-shift. He was weak. … [view original content]
(Listen to this for extra atmosphere while reading: )
It had taken but a minute to escape the smell. It had taken but half an hour to escape the deafening screeches. But hours later, the smoke was still visible.
Someone must have gotten the bright idea to burn the whole place to the ground, hopefully catch some of the walkers in the blaze. Quentin rubs the stubble on his sharp jawline, they prick like needles into the creases of his skin. He sighs deeply. This world has aged him. Just the other day he found his first gray hair among the dark roots of his ash black hair. It felt so petty to worry about getting old, of all things, during a time where most people don't last longer than a couple of months, a year at best. The problem may have been petty, but it was important to him. He could feel it when he stood up in the morning to start cooking for the women. When his legs could barely hold him after a mere two-hour-shift. He was weak. But, although the world had aged his body, it had to failed to age his mind. He saw it whenever he looked into the light-blue pools of pure joy known as his son's eyes. There would be a future someday. Ava would make sure of that. If only they could have lasted another week... The trucks were set to arrive then. The community isn't far from here, about two days worth of driving, no interruptions, except sleeping, of course. Ah, sleeping. That wonderful thing Quentin did five hours a day, not nearly enough for a grown man, let alone one of his size. The man lets his gaze stray from the wet windshield and to his right. Laying there, in the passenger seat, is the tiniest bundle of happiness the world had ever had the pleasure of knowing, neatly wrapped into a puffy blanket, white as snow. The child is carefully tied into a makeshift baby seat made from pillows and a seat belt. It's not the safest contraption, but it should keep the little guy alive in case of an emergency. A thousand trees fly by before the truck finally shoots out into a sea of bright yellow like a bullet out of a gun. Rotten crops. Wasted food. Quentin's stomach twists as he is reminded of the rough winter he and his wife had to go through. Before Ashley. She'd looked so thin. Each day he looked at her chest, counting her ribs. As weeks went by with only a minimum of food he was forced to witness a horrid transformation from voluptuous woman to bag of bones. It terrified him. She was supposed to be pregnant, after all.
Ashley had saved the pair, but most importantly: The baby. Their son. He was born a month too early, but they had the technology to keep him alive. Each day, Quentin prays to God, thanking him for granting the people of Ashley electricity, and the power to spring their little wonder into life. Yes, every day. His eyelids, once pinched together to look out into the darkness, quickly spread apart. A bolt of pain shoots through his forehead. Frowning, and with his hand to his forehead, Quentin frantically searches his dashboard for the panel displaying the time. "23:45" He mumbles while sighing. There's still time. The man presses his foot onto the brakes and pulls over. As the vehicle comes to a halt Quentin reaches for his left chest and into a pocket, where a tiny booklet rest upon his heart. "The Holy Bible." His father would always say. "Pocket edition." The book is, and always had been, quite precious to him. It guided him through the initial outbreak and had helped him in his darkest hours, when he did not know if his wife would make it, not to mention the unborn baby inside of her. It was his only friend when he was all alone in a sea of men; the barracks of the encampment, bunk bed after bunk bed. As he flips through the pages he hears a noise to the right of him. "Joshua, quiet." He whispers to his baby, keeping his eyes locked on the pages of the book, trying to find a suitable passage. The noise doesn't stop, however. It only gets worse.
Shattered glass finds its away into Quentin's lap as the window on his right breaks into a countless shards. A girl stands there, her eyes as sharp as the glass that she had broken a second ago. She's holding the barrel of a gun, she must have used the butt to break the window. He sits paralyzed as he witnesses the teen opening the car door while turning the gun the right way. The deadly way. Aimed at his face.
Joshua, poor Joshua, covered in glass and cuts, crying as if his world had just ended. The girl notices. The girl gasps, but quickly regains her posture. "Get out of the car." She sounds so calm. Quentin can barely hear her over the noise his son is producing. "I'm not going to warn you again, get out of the fucking car!" He slowly moves his hands towards his seat belt and unties it, making sure to keep eye contact at all times. Call him stupid. Call him insane. But deep down, as he gazes into those golden eyes shimmering from within the darkness, he knows she won't hurt him.
I think il just post my apology here. i was a writer in the last season what seems like an eternity ago. i havent caught up with this season but i will. i just want to say im sorry. i was pissed off and angry because i put time into whatever i wrote and it got disregarded and thrown away, maybe also because i was a moody son of a bitch. i made another account and that lie so that i could come back because i had dug myself too deep. im sad to see this thread die but all good things it must come to an end. if this ever gets a revival then i will read attentively but i will only write if it stagnates. if i have any advice its to post an entire summary document and make a new thread. its been a long time and i gurantee there are people who are willing to come and help out. i dont care if anyone sees it i just want it to be here. thank you unt goodbye
I remember you. You had creative differences with the others and left. Then you came back saying somebody hacked your account. Most agreed that you were faking, but like me they realised your honest effort to apologize. I was an avid reader of this story even if i didn't have an account (details in my comment in the original thread).
Im glad to see you here. You, The Missus and TheOne are people that worked on this project on the start and that gives me immence appreciacion towards you for working in one of the best stories i have read.
Sadly though it seems like this is story is in hybernation and may sadly be over. I myself almost continued it but i have too much respect for the writters to take the story and most likely go on a very different path than they intended. Anyway glad to see you here. Hope you enjoy what WAS written .
I think il just post my apology here. i was a writer in the last season what seems like an eternity ago. i havent caught up with this season… more but i will. i just want to say im sorry. i was pissed off and angry because i put time into whatever i wrote and it got disregarded and thrown away, maybe also because i was a moody son of a bitch. i made another account and that lie so that i could come back because i had dug myself too deep. im sad to see this thread die but all good things it must come to an end. if this ever gets a revival then i will read attentively but i will only write if it stagnates. if i have any advice its to post an entire summary document and make a new thread. its been a long time and i gurantee there are people who are willing to come and help out. i dont care if anyone sees it i just want it to be here. thank you unt goodbye
I have very fond memories of this, it was just this lovely creative outlet, it was a project that was perfectly accessible yet involving. It let us all express ourselves and it was always interesting to not only read and expand this massive thing we had built together, not only to grow attached to the story and the others writers, but to also see the individual personalities of ourselves and each other, and have our own writing sort of blossom here. It was almost like this room I could always go to, involve myself within. A room where I could just express myself, among all these other awesome people, and just get involved into something. Something that actually did help me through a lot in my life. And this room was populated with some of the best people I've ever known (some have, for real, changed my life).
Then life happened, big changes in all of our lives that left us with NO choice but to focus on that. Even when I personally tried to actually get back into this, I was left with such exhaustion by life to even read anything, to even remember entire characters and events. It eventually made it entirely impossible and it still is, life is still keeping me and others busy and as such, because of the many moving parts involved, it makes it difficult to time any type of comeback in anyway.
But, if we were to actually try to reboot this thing in some form or way, I personally think it would have to be a completely new story. We could go with starting from Season Two, but with my personal subjective opinion about Season Two, I'd rather not. Going from Season One and forward would probably be a lot more, meaningful and nostalgic for us all honestly, and better for the story as a whole.
I just want to say I agree with everything you've written here, HSPLazerz, even if I did join the story late. It was a privilege to write with you all and read the story. One of the most beautiful things about the story is to see not just character development but writer development - it was collaborative in the best possible way. Encouragement was given and as a result, in my opinion, the writing improved.
I think it's a testament to the fondness we all hold for the story that many of the writers and readers have come back over the last two years to remember the good times.
To all who contributed or read the story, whatever you are doing now and wherever life has taken you, all the best for the future. As HSPLazerz says, we should always dream, and you never know, we may write together again.
I have very fond memories of this, it was just this lovely creative outlet, it was a project that was perfectly accessible yet involving. It… more let us all express ourselves and it was always interesting to not only read and expand this massive thing we had built together, not only to grow attached to the story and the others writers, but to also see the individual personalities of ourselves and each other, and have our own writing sort of blossom here. It was almost like this room I could always go to, involve myself within. A room where I could just express myself, among all these other awesome people, and just get involved into something. Something that actually did help me through a lot in my life. And this room was populated with some of the best people I've ever known (some have, for real, changed my life).
Then life happened, big changes in all of our lives that left us with NO choice but to focus on that. Even when I personally tried t… [view original content]
Hello guys,
I just finished reading the very first collaborative Season of ours and got teary eyed. This fanfiction has in fact changed my life even if that might sound pathetic to you. I just wanted to say, I am definately going to read this entire thread, too. Furthermore, I honestly consider to continue with this story. I am not sure if anyone is even interested in joining me. Though, I'll just give it a try. As to explain why my sudden absence: it's just like HSPLazerz said - life happened. In my case it is a disease I am still suffering from, but things are getting better. I hope writing will bring back my creativity and lead to great minds collaborating
Okay, so I guess I gotta explain: I reread our entire fanfic. Twice. However, I have absolutely zero ideas how to continue from here. I really love this story. Someone, help!
Comments
Thank you!
Bump. It's been over a month. Keep on going!
You can do it.
I know right? Too bad I am helpless right now, I was the last poster! T_T
This is insane ;/
sigh
I feel that the death of this is largely my fault for not posting. My apologies. Anyone up for a revival?
Oh trust me, the unofficial death of this fan fic isn't anyones fault, rather, it's just a collection of most of our private lives just taking up lots of our time. It'd real fun to get back to this, trust me, and who knows, maybe eventually, but as it stands it is still tough. It'd be nice to maybe try and coordinate with the group a bit and see if we can try something at least.
Yes, exactly!
hey guys
Yes, I know, the rules clearly state not to post after yourself.
But fuck the rules.
AND NO I DON'T MEAN BUTTFUCK THE RULES YOU PERV.
(Listen to this for extra atmosphere while reading:
)
It had taken but a minute to escape the smell. It had taken but half an hour to escape the deafening screeches. But hours later, the smoke was still visible.
Someone must have gotten the bright idea to burn the whole place to the ground, hopefully catch some of the walkers in the blaze. Quentin rubs the stubble on his sharp jawline, they prick like needles into the creases of his skin. He sighs deeply. This world has aged him. Just the other day he found his first gray hair among the dark roots of his ash black hair. It felt so petty to worry about getting old, of all things, during a time where most people don't last longer than a couple of months, a year at best. The problem may have been petty, but it was important to him. He could feel it when he stood up in the morning to start cooking for the women. When his legs could barely hold him after a mere two-hour-shift. He was weak. But, although the world had aged his body, it had to failed to age his mind. He saw it whenever he looked into the light-blue pools of pure joy known as his son's eyes. There would be a future someday. Ava would make sure of that. If only they could have lasted another week... The trucks were set to arrive then. The community isn't far from here, about two days worth of driving, no interruptions, except sleeping, of course. Ah, sleeping. That wonderful thing Quentin did five hours a day, not nearly enough for a grown man, let alone one of his size. The man lets his gaze stray from the wet windshield and to his right. Laying there, in the passenger seat, is the tiniest bundle of happiness the world had ever had the pleasure of knowing, neatly wrapped into a puffy blanket, white as snow. The child is carefully tied into a makeshift baby seat made from pillows and a seat belt. It's not the safest contraption, but it should keep the little guy alive in case of an emergency. A thousand trees fly by before the truck finally shoots out into a sea of bright yellow like a bullet out of a gun. Rotten crops. Wasted food. Quentin's stomach twists as he is reminded of the rough winter he and his wife had to go through. Before Ashley. She'd looked so thin. Each day he looked at her chest, counting her ribs. As weeks went by with only a minimum of food he was forced to witness a horrid transformation from voluptuous woman to bag of bones. It terrified him. She was supposed to be pregnant, after all.
Ashley had saved the pair, but most importantly: The baby. Their son. He was born a month too early, but they had the technology to keep him alive. Each day, Quentin prays to God, thanking him for granting the people of Ashley electricity, and the power to spring their little wonder into life. Yes, every day. His eyelids, once pinched together to look out into the darkness, quickly spread apart. A bolt of pain shoots through his forehead. Frowning, and with his hand to his forehead, Quentin frantically searches his dashboard for the panel displaying the time. "23:45" He mumbles while sighing. There's still time. The man presses his foot onto the brakes and pulls over. As the vehicle comes to a halt Quentin reaches for his left chest and into a pocket, where a tiny booklet rest upon his heart. "The Holy Bible." His father would always say. "Pocket edition." The book is, and always had been, quite precious to him. It guided him through the initial outbreak and had helped him in his darkest hours, when he did not know if his wife would make it, not to mention the unborn baby inside of her. It was his only friend when he was all alone in a sea of men; the barracks of the encampment, bunk bed after bunk bed. As he flips through the pages he hears a noise to the right of him. "Joshua, quiet." He whispers to his baby, keeping his eyes locked on the pages of the book, trying to find a suitable passage. The noise doesn't stop, however. It only gets worse.
Shattered glass finds its away into Quentin's lap as the window on his right breaks into a countless shards. A girl stands there, her eyes as sharp as the glass that she had broken a second ago. She's holding the barrel of a gun, she must have used the butt to break the window. He sits paralyzed as he witnesses the teen opening the car door while turning the gun the right way. The deadly way. Aimed at his face.
Joshua, poor Joshua, covered in glass and cuts, crying as if his world had just ended. The girl notices. The girl gasps, but quickly regains her posture. "Get out of the car." She sounds so calm. Quentin can barely hear her over the noise his son is producing. "I'm not going to warn you again, get out of the fucking car!" He slowly moves his hands towards his seat belt and unties it, making sure to keep eye contact at all times. Call him stupid. Call him insane. But deep down, as he gazes into those golden eyes shimmering from within the darkness, he knows she won't hurt him.
His body may have aged, but his mind has not.
Hey missus you are amazing
I think il just post my apology here. i was a writer in the last season what seems like an eternity ago. i havent caught up with this season but i will. i just want to say im sorry. i was pissed off and angry because i put time into whatever i wrote and it got disregarded and thrown away, maybe also because i was a moody son of a bitch. i made another account and that lie so that i could come back because i had dug myself too deep. im sad to see this thread die but all good things it must come to an end. if this ever gets a revival then i will read attentively but i will only write if it stagnates. if i have any advice its to post an entire summary document and make a new thread. its been a long time and i gurantee there are people who are willing to come and help out. i dont care if anyone sees it i just want it to be here. thank you unt goodbye
I remember you. You had creative differences with the others and left. Then you came back saying somebody hacked your account. Most agreed that you were faking, but like me they realised your honest effort to apologize. I was an avid reader of this story even if i didn't have an account (details in my comment in the original thread).
Im glad to see you here. You, The Missus and TheOne are people that worked on this project on the start and that gives me immence appreciacion towards you for working in one of the best stories i have read.
Sadly though it seems like this is story is in hybernation and may sadly be over. I myself almost continued it but i have too much respect for the writters to take the story and most likely go on a very different path than they intended. Anyway glad to see you here. Hope you enjoy what WAS written
.
I do still hold this story very dear to my heart. Sad to see it dead.
I have faith it will return......somehow.
you guys could just try making another one.
or just adding a bit on anyway; despite how long it's been
I don't know if i could. Im already working on another story and i would rather not just 'take over' withiout permission of the other writters.
I have very fond memories of this, it was just this lovely creative outlet, it was a project that was perfectly accessible yet involving. It let us all express ourselves and it was always interesting to not only read and expand this massive thing we had built together, not only to grow attached to the story and the others writers, but to also see the individual personalities of ourselves and each other, and have our own writing sort of blossom here. It was almost like this room I could always go to, involve myself within. A room where I could just express myself, among all these other awesome people, and just get involved into something. Something that actually did help me through a lot in my life. And this room was populated with some of the best people I've ever known (some have, for real, changed my life).
Then life happened, big changes in all of our lives that left us with NO choice but to focus on that. Even when I personally tried to actually get back into this, I was left with such exhaustion by life to even read anything, to even remember entire characters and events. It eventually made it entirely impossible and it still is, life is still keeping me and others busy and as such, because of the many moving parts involved, it makes it difficult to time any type of comeback in anyway.
But, if we were to actually try to reboot this thing in some form or way, I personally think it would have to be a completely new story. We could go with starting from Season Two, but with my personal subjective opinion about Season Two, I'd rather not. Going from Season One and forward would probably be a lot more, meaningful and nostalgic for us all honestly, and better for the story as a whole.
Hey, we can always dream, right?
I just want to say I agree with everything you've written here, HSPLazerz, even if I did join the story late. It was a privilege to write with you all and read the story. One of the most beautiful things about the story is to see not just character development but writer development - it was collaborative in the best possible way. Encouragement was given and as a result, in my opinion, the writing improved.
I think it's a testament to the fondness we all hold for the story that many of the writers and readers have come back over the last two years to remember the good times.
To all who contributed or read the story, whatever you are doing now and wherever life has taken you, all the best for the future. As HSPLazerz says, we should always dream, and you never know, we may write together again.
so how are you all
I'm fine. Moved on to write my old story. Haven't heard much from anyone here.
Hello guys,
I just finished reading the very first collaborative Season of ours and got teary eyed. This fanfiction has in fact changed my life even if that might sound pathetic to you. I just wanted to say, I am definately going to read this entire thread, too. Furthermore, I honestly consider to continue with this story. I am not sure if anyone is even interested in joining me. Though, I'll just give it a try. As to explain why my sudden absence: it's just like HSPLazerz said - life happened. In my case it is a disease I am still suffering from, but things are getting better. I hope writing will bring back my creativity and lead to great minds collaborating
Dang
Okay, so I guess I gotta explain: I reread our entire fanfic. Twice. However, I have absolutely zero ideas how to continue from here. I really love this story. Someone, help!