Thinking about the version of Mark that DID survive out in the wasteland for all those years (???) (post-Angstrom fight). Thinking about him being told he wouldn’t like who he had become. Thinking about Mark whispering “I thought you were stronger” at the bloody corpse crushed into the sand. Thinking about the hot sun and incredibly hot earth and unwavering isolation at such a critically vulnerable point. Mark, stranded and bloody, left to wonder if this was worth trying to protect his family, left to wonder if the violence in him is inevitable, as if it's some evil thing that's always been there, underneath his skin, just now waking. Left to wonder until he trips into spiraling, but no matter how loud he screams these questions into the sky, there is nothing but silence. A corpse for company. Thinking about the crushing weight of loneliness, and your own shocked mind. Thinking about being that way for years and years and years, somehow surviving. Only to become something a younger you wouldn’t "like". And what that looks like.
Thinking about the Mark that did get rescued, and being left to wonder how many times other versions of himself stumble into bad endings. How long until he becomes something he wouldn't like.
imagine marrying someone who played your brother on tv and then right as you get divorced they start making the weird freudian undertones of your on screen relationship explicit but only on your characters side. this happened to jennifer carpenter
this was a project for my art class where we had to make video game concept art!! it was super fun and I loved one of my characters sm I redrew him :))
gabriel having fun flirting with and teasing nathan during ep5 and thinking it’s all just for a lark and then realizing like a lightning strike just how hard he’s actually falling when nathan almost dies horribly
i started writing (fiction) again! after so long. it feels so nice. i have tiny inklings of stories, and i wish i knew how they ended—so i suppose i'll have to find out. (i hope i can.) (not now, however, as it is 1.20 am and tomorrow [today] is a working day.)
i also found a stupid (affectionate) short piece i wrote in 2020 (during lockdown, when i should have been writing my thesis) and damn, i used to have skills.