#rapoarte

Intervale Următoarea noastră scară de măsură este scara intervalului, care îndeplinește ceea ce lipsea cu variabilele ordinale. O variabilă de interval are diferențe semnificative și de încredere între valori, care pot fi calculate și analizate. Spre deosebire de cele două scale anterioare, variabilele de interval sunt întotdeauna numerice prin natură. Nu puteți scădea două cuvinte unul de la…

she   was   happy   to   meet   such   a   capable   ally       in   the   harsh   world   they   found   themselves   in.   the   words   brought   a   smile   to   her   face,   lips   curled   up   in   a   way   that   was   almost   invisible   to   the   eye   -   but   it   was   there.   companionship   was   a   beautiful   thing   and   she   viewed   all   friendships   as   sacred   even   before   she   lost   her   normal   lifestyle   to   the   fog.   it   was   dark,   clouds   of   fog   rising   from   the   ground   all   around   them.   the   buzz   of   a   generator   being   repaired   hummed   in   their   ears,   but   those   words   cut   through   like   a   knife.   she'd   remember   them   fondly.

"is   this   some   kind   of   joke,   chris?"   staring   daggers   into   the   man   she   no   longer   recognized,   he   was   just   a   hallowed   out   shell   of   what   used   to   be   her   brother.   the   one   who   raised   her   &   taught   her   everything   that   she   knew,   yet   there   they   were   on   opposite   sides.   what   happened   to   him?   her   stomach   churned.   this   was   the   first   time   in   her   entire   life   she   felt   this   kind   of   digust   &   it   bubbled   angrily   in   her   throat   like   flaming   vomit.   then   ,   a   sudden   realization   hit.   her   weight   shifted   more   comfortably   now,   frame   swaying   as   she   let   out   a   pitiful   huff   of   laughter.   back   when   they   were   kids,   chris   would   calm   her   fears   of   the   supernatural   by   telling   her   it's   not   real   or   pretending   to   rid   the   monsters   in   her   closets   by   having   make   belief   fights   with   air.   a   fond   memory   turned   into   a   weapon.   she   knew   she   could   induce   memories,   hold   a   mirror   to   him   so   he   could   remember   who   he   is.   or   was.

home .       her   head   cocked   to   the   side   as   she   pondered   the   true   meaning   behind   it.   to   her,   home   could   be   anywhere   or   anyone,   an   intimate   sanctuary   either   found   in   a   space   she   made   herself   or,   the   less   occuring   option,   with   people   she   felt   safe   with.   her   brother   was   right   ,   after   awhile   places   and   people   can   become   home   ,   however   ,   she   lacked   the   understanding   of   its   relevance.   the   people   he   works   with,   who   he   spends   nearly   every   waking   moment   with.   or   his   house,   which   is   worn   -   out   yet   has   the   charm   to   feel   homey.   claire   also   tried   to   think   about   where   her   home   is,   but   the   best   she   could   come   up   with   was   the   raggady   apartment   they   were   standing   in.   walls   stood   in   desperate   need   of   a   new   coat   of   paint,   but   it   was.   .   .   home.   she   smiled.   it   occured   to   claire   that   that   was   maybe   the   point,   home   was   never   handed   to   them.   they   found   it   theirselves.   made   it   theirselves.

Oh this friendship is starting off on the right foot, haha~

“ i struggled for a long time with surviving . ” the last of us sentence starters . 

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

❛  stickup .   yell  at  my  muse  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air.

The gargantuan figure blocking out the light from the doorway released an inhuman rumbling noise, the sound akin to a living thunderstorm that did not bear provocation. Cold, pale eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of its hat as it turned to look in the direction that the order had been barked from. It was difficult to tell if the creature had even understood, its pallid face void of feeling, piercing eyes empty. In lieu of a response, it canted its head to one side, silently appraising the man holding it at gunpoint.

Put a  ❀ in my inbox and I’ll give your muse an unpleasant trip from Donna’s garden // accepting !!

Ever since leaving the lycan infested village, the radio pinned to Chris' broad chest had been sputtering static and intermingled clicks. He had paused beneath a looming oak tree to fiddle with the dials and input but to no avail. 

"Alpha team, do you copy? I repeat, Alpha team, do you copy?”

Nothing. 

“Piece of shit” Chris seethed between grit teeth. Military training had taught him that isolation was the quickest way to get yourself killed. Chris could handle the Lycan but he knew larger and more fearsome hunters stalked these doll lined forested canopies. 

Ducking beneath a low hanging branch, the bead in his ear clicked to life and warbled with stretched voices. Layered over one another it was difficult to determine who was on the other end of the line. Chris jammed a his index finger against the bead and fixed his gaze on the carpet of snow at his boots, tracing a shape that jutted rocklike in the earth. 

“Reeeeed-” His radio yapped, tone desperate despite its warped channel. “Redfield... US- HELP... overrun... DEAD- KENNEDY... too late.”

Chris swallowed thickly as a shiver that was not from the cold ran down his spine. Beneath a scattering of leaves by his right boot, a barely distinct logo caught his eye.

S. T. A. R. S.

The flack vest was a frozen stone as Chris fell to his knees and scratched frantically at its outline, finding an arm and head. The body was so cold against his gloved hands that it had to have been here for days, weeks even. 

Chris rose to his feet in panic and turn this way and that, desperately searching for help in this desolate waste. A doll that had waved solemnly in the breeze three feet away was not a doll at all. The severed arm clawlike in rigor mortis and adorned with a familiar watch that was awarded to all recruits upon graduation. 

Still the radio screeched as the forest of bodies became clear through the misted trees. Their faces frozen in terror as they stared at Chris accusingly.