#zombies run!

Oh hey I drew this a while back and apparently forgot to post it anywhere whoops 🤷

Hello? Anyone still here?

It's been a long time. I miss the fandom space we had for ZR! and I still hold fond memories of all the interactions I had here. I don't return empty handed. Last year, I had a spell of sort of limbo employment. I wasn't out of a job but I had no work so I would bed rot. I returned to ZR! to get me out the house again. It sparked some creativity I hadn't had in a long while and so here are some redesigns of some characters.

They're based on my old designs for them with a lil revamp and more thought put into the vibe. Runner 5, Sam Yao, Sara Smith - Runner 8, Janine De Luca, Maxine Myers and Archie Jensen - Runner 22.

I hope anyone still here enjoys these and I hope you're all doing well these years later.

I've been using Zombies, Run! for years, and I love it. It's like a podcast where you're in a zombie apocalypse, interspersed with your own music, which is the ideal running mix for me. There's loads of great characters and it's so much more motivating than just exercising. The paid version has great bonuses but the whole main storyline is available for free.

also Actual Margaret Atwood guest wrote an episode

The recent post I reblogged about Zombies, Run! made me quite nostalgic about the early years of the app and the story. And judging from the reblogs, I'm not the only one...

How about we celebrate the story, the community and the fandom of the early years, and all use July to share some of our favourite posts, drawings, headcanons etc from back in the days. Just some great memories of the past. Maybe some bloggers who - like me - have mostly moved on to other things will be interested in joining us, revisiting the past for a bit?

No matter what the new-ish owners decide to do with the app and the story, we will always have those amazing memories, right? And for newer fans it might be nice to see what we've been up to in the past.

Spoilers through Season 4.

She's in your head again.  Something about the way it crescendos in. Her voice. It echoes, bouncing off the sharp edges of your mind in ways that make it hard to think.  She's dead, but she's... Shes. Still. Here. You want to scream or maybe cry. You want to escape.

How cruel. How cruel that not even your thoughts can be your own even in her death.

And just like that, you question everything. Are you really here? Are you really doing what you think you're doing? Are you safe? You take stock of your surroundings.

It's dark in the comm shack. Sam's there, eyebrows furrowed as his his eyes dart from screen to screen. He's cast in the red glow of the comm tower light.

Reality Check 1: You are in the Comm shack.

Moonchild's brain hijacking visions were always blinding and bright. During them, you forgot the cool, dark comforts of night

It smells like stale coffee and over-brewed tea. You still taste the coffee on your tongue

Reality check 2: You are safe.

The things you could smell and tatse never lined up with whatever your hijacked mind thought and saw.

Plus you don't smell iron and that's at least something.

*Relax, 5, I'm only checking in.*

Your jaw tightens and, despite yourself, you suck a breath in between your gritted teeth.

Oops.

No one can know. That shes still here. You don't know why, but she said it and, despite yourself, you believe it.

So, when you look up and find Sam has turned to cast his concern in your direction, you tense. You *can't* tell him. You just can't.

Something in his expression shifts. His eyes soften, and his mouth twitches into a momentary grimmace. Then, he lets out a breath and takes your hand. You can feel the grooves of his fingerprints brush against yours.

Reality check 3: This is Sam.

Moonchild's visions never felt this grounded or detailed.

Sam doesn't ask. He takes hold of your hands, gives them a grounding squeeze and breaths with you.

*Oh fine then*

Her voices trails off and it doesn't come back. For now, she's scurried to whatever corner of your mind she's been hidding.

You give Sam a nod. His response is something between a sad smile and a grimmace. He nods back, gives your hands one more brief squeeze, then goes back to his screens to plan tomorrow's runs.

Despite what the trauma tells you, with its lingering symptoms, you are here.

Me when im in the babygirl olympics and my opponent is Sam Yao zombies run