#fallout demo

[falloutconceptart]

Ugly

Art asset for The Fallout Demo

Artist Unclear

[wolfram-but-art]

i may or may not have made full designs for mercs in an rp i'm doing...

rb > likes or smth

misc + og designs under cut :thumbs up:

here's them before i started colouring

most of these are pretty gimmicky on purpose, also i changed a cuple of stuff here and there

for the sake of the rp i designed these kill feeds (more or less inspired by those chat devices someone made for dsmp that one time) (it's a little primitive, but it only has to be functional)

there is a v.2 which has the form of a watch (you can see it on sniper, spy and engie) (it also has a mode where instead of sending notifications it vibrates, thought it would be fun for sneaking) (maybe it even has a walke talkie function, yk, for team comms) (i didn't draw but it's all fictional anyway)

i kept some on my hcs in these ddesigns too, like engi's and Pyro's special goggles and tails and

i also removed Medic's lab coat because... well... he doesn't have it on...

i removed Sniper's facial hair too because i ended up hating it hfsgfe

there's also this uh,, thing i made

(yes, i made spy look and pose like that on prpose lmao)BB

[patt-is-cool]

tjeyre complaing about ghost da :]

[falloutsgraygarden]

Got another scar and more blemishes and new makeup and freckless🌸

[demonir]

thinking abt the fallout new vegas dlc old world blues and how if medic or engineer tf2 were released in there everything would go TO SHIT

[mmphmmphmrf]

pyro have you ever been to a theme park

Uh huh!! Mrr + 💣+ 🪖

[olyrik]

[violetreminder]

Fuck it, I'm gonna play Deus Ex

[wyrmwind636]

I think Caster got horribly lost.

[krissiefox]

Golf vs Zombies (PC) (Demo) Mini-Review

I've never understood the appeal of regular golfing, especially compared to the awesomeness of mini golf. However, a lighthearted golf video game where you get to clobber zombies is a different story!

Golf vs Zombies, judging by the demo, is a simple but charming title. You play as a rednecky golfer dude trying to relax in a Fallout-esque post apocalyptic world. When you go out into the fields you can golf normally of course but you'll also encounter zombies, which you have clobber with golf balls before they eat your brains! Also peppered throughout the golf course are goodies such as money boxes or blueprints for new gadgets. The game features which is very limited in the demo but promises cool things such as exploding golf balls and zombie radar. The game has pretty decent art, though sometimes the scenery could be a little hard for me to read (for example I once launched my golf ball right into a river because I couldn't see it from where I was standing). It also has nice sound design, with eerie ambience and music fitting the apocalyptic theme, and exciting music when the zombies start closing in on you. There's also a mini-game between levels where you drive a golf cart down a road, squishing zombies and grabbing cash. It's quite fun but for some reason my stanky old wizard eyes had a bit of trouble visually reading it at times. Perhaps it could do with more color contrast, or a different camera angle?

A couple of visual design issues aside, this still looks like a nice little arcade-y game! The golfing mechanic is very simple so if you know next to nothing about sports (like me) you don't have to worry about any complicated stuff. You can get the game drm free here or on steam here (which may have drm, as the steam demo does)

[cryptosexologist]

sonic frontiers is the stylistic equivalent of if the old sonic cartoons had 06 eggman with his real human eyes and nose hairs

[falloutconceptart]

Taste and Smell

Art asset for The Fallout Demo

Artist Unclear

[hawkguard]

Laughing at starfield marketing cause theyre doing so much and have yet to release continuous 15-20min gameplay footage like show me something that doesn’t jumpcut after 30 seconds please

[falloutsgraygarden]

I strongly suggest you stop loitering in the middle of a hostile location.

[maccamaniac1]

In a heartfelt interview in late 2023, Paul McCartney spoke emotionally about a dream that had shaken him. He said he saw John Lennon in the dream, alive, laughing, and speaking to him like old times. The encounter felt so real that he woke up in tears. While talking on the podcast McCartney: A Life in Lyrics, Paul revealed, “It was one of those vivid dreams where John was there. We were just sitting across from each other and I remember saying, ‘John, it’s so good to see you again.’” His voice cracked slightly during the recounting.

This memory came as part of Paul’s promotion for the 2023 release of the final Beatles song Now and Then, which used a vocal demo from John originally recorded in the late 1970s. With the help of AI technology developed by Peter Jackson for the Get Back documentary, the scratchy home recording was cleaned up enough to allow Paul and Ringo Starr to add bass, drums, and harmonies, giving the track the emotional power of a real Beatles reunion.

What moved Paul deeply was the process of recording around John’s voice as if he were in the room again. “It was incredibly touching,” Paul said during a BBC interview in November 2023. “When I heard his voice clear as day in the studio speakers, I had to take a minute. It wasn’t just music. It felt like a message.”

During an interview on The Tonight Show, Paul recalled the early writing days with John. He mentioned how, even in their youth, the connection had a depth that went beyond collaboration. “We’d sit across from each other with our guitars and just look into each other’s eyes as we figured the lyrics. It was a strange, beautiful sort of unspoken trust.”

But one of the most unexpected revelations came when Paul spoke about a 1980s moment that haunted him. After John’s death, Paul would often write letters to him. Letters that were never sent, just tucked away. In an emotional passage from his 2021 book The Lyrics, Paul included a portion of one note: “Would you believe me if I said I still hear your voice in the harmonies?” He admitted he sometimes sang along to old Beatles songs at home, imagining John beside him.

During the making of Now and Then, Paul said he looked to John for guidance. “I kept thinking, ‘Would John approve of this part? Would he like the string arrangement?’ That’s how present he felt,” Paul explained during the SiriusXM Town Hall session. “It was like he was in the control room with us, nodding or raising an eyebrow.”

A particularly touching moment came when Paul recalled a studio exchange with Ringo while they were finishing the song. They were sitting in silence after laying down the final tracks. Paul turned to Ringo and said, “Do you feel him here too?” Ringo replied, “I do. It's mad, isn't it?” That moment, Paul said, was among the most emotional of his recent life.

In a quiet revelation during his conversation with Rolling Stone, Paul shared a short anecdote involving a cassette player he still keeps in his study. The tape inside it carries one of the last audio letters John sent to him in 1979. “He was being silly, doing voices, making jokes... I’ve never had the heart to rewind it past that message. It’s frozen in time, just like him.”

Paul also touched on their complicated past. “We had our fallouts, sure. But I never stopped loving him. I don’t think he ever stopped loving me either,” he said. Then he added a line that stunned the room silent: “I still write with him. Not every day, but when I’m stuck on a song, I ask him what he thinks. And sometimes, I hear the answer.”

Now and Then topped charts globally, but to Paul, it meant something no chart could measure. “It gave us one last chance to sing with John,” he told the crowd at an intimate event at Abbey Road Studios.

Even after all these years, Paul’s voice trembled slightly when speaking about John. He ended one appearance by simply saying, “We started off as kids with guitars, and somewhere in the music, I still find him.”

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about price putting his hat on the boys' heads

cw war guilt, self harm through working out

it's only happened once or twice with each of them, only when they're on the brink and safe enough for price to let himself soften

🧼

the first time it happens to soap is on his first demo mission as a corporal; the first time he's been in charge of the planning the rig and the first time he’s close enough to see the human fallout of the explosion he worked so hard on and realises how often it means a slow and messy death

he knows they're the enemy; knows if it wasn't them, it would be him, then the long line of civilians at his back that he stands so strong to protect. he knows that

but that doesn't stop the screaming echoing in his mind, doesn't rid the memory of burning bodies trying to crawl away from their signed deaths

signed by him

he's sitting on the concrete outside the barracks, trying to get the cold to leech the remnants of the fire from his blood that his ice cold shower couldn’t douse. he jumps at the feel of a leg pressing against his side and looks up at price as he leans back against the wall, his hands cupped around a cigarette

soap flinches at the sparks coming from his lighter and looks away, his knees creeping up tighter to his chest

"it gets easier," price rumbles above him, exhaling a long breath and the comforting acrid scent of smoke spills around him

he shifts uneasily and pretends it's not to get closer. "i don't think that makes me feel better, sir,” he admits

"never said it would," he shrugs with the ease of a man who's had this same conversation a hundred times and will have it a hundred more. "just that it does."

soap sniffles then growls at himself, harshly scraping his wrist over his face

a light weight drops on his head and he stifles a gasp as price's hat falls low over his reddened eyes, hiding him from the prying gaze of the world

"you'll be alright, son," he promises and soap's lips tremble. he presses them tight together and follows price's hand as he guides his face into the side of his knee, cupping his jaw and holding him close as he shakes apart

"you'll be alright."

🧢

gaz doesn't crave softness when he messes up; doesn't want forgiveness or assurance. he wants blood; blood shed for blood that shouldn't have been lost

the punching bag is shining by the time price walks into the gym; shining yet also muted where his blood’s had the time to dry and stain, his knuckles torn to shreds

gaz' fist almost slips off the bag and he clicks his tongue. "you gonna keep makin' that a biohazard or do you want to do something actually worthwhile?"

his lip kicks up in a snarl and he sends a glare over his shoulder. "what?"

"think medical's got enough bodies, don't you?" he asks and a dangerous stillness fills the air

gaz shoves off the bag, knuckles dripping onto the mats. "you wanna add one more?"

price quirks an eyebrow, so nonchalant that it just makes him angrier; blood boiling in his veins. "come on, then."

he stalks onto the sparring mats and price barely blinks before he's attacking; throwing wild punches, eyes a hundred miles away

back in beirut

where they had to pull their team out in pieces because gaz missed the suicide bomber launching himself out of the rubble

price dodges each desperate strike, loose and sloppy and nowhere near gaz’ usual level of skill. he doesn't hit back once and gaz' faces twists with each miss, sweat flying off him as his grunts turn into growls, turn into screams as he throws himself at him

price ducks and snatches his hat off his head, slapping it into gaz' face to blind him and drives him back into the mats

he gags as his lungs seize, his air is forced out of him; leaving him to heave harsh breaths that stick in the fabric of the hat. the humid dark closes in on him, forcing him to focus on his breaths so he doesn't throw up or pass out; forcing him to stay within his body instead of drowning in another country

price's hand is heavy behind it, keeping it trapped over his face. "are you done?" he asks, not even breathless

gaz pants, his whole body tingling, and his fingers dig harder into his face

"are you done?" he insists

he swallows dry, suddenly aware of the exhaustion sapping at his limbs, the pain in his hands, the tightness in his throat. "i'm done," he rasps

price relaxes but doesn't remove his hand or push him to get up. they sit on the mats for a while, price's weight and the dark anchoring gaz to the here and now

💀

contrary to popular belief, ghost doesn't hate family days

he doesn't glare at the droves of civilians entering the base, doesn't stand as a spectre of death and grief over the rookies running into the arms of their families on one of the most important days of their career. he doesn't begrudge the safety and love they feel from coddling mothers and embarrassingly proud fathers, from laughing siblings and sticky-fingered children

he remembers his own graduation too well to want to take it from them

he stands in his dress blues through the speeches, his neck gaiter hiding less than he'd like but at ease with the compromise he and price reached. he looks over the tearful family members as name after name gets called, takes careful note of the ones who are clapped for less than the others, and lines up with the other officers as they wait for the tap out

one by one, the graduates get released by their loved ones; no longer standing attention as a recruit but embracing them as a private

just as he's done every year, ghost checked their records to ensure they all had someone coming for them; he's never let a single one stand in the field waiting for someone who will never come. it's rare that his diligence is necessary but he's never let them feel any shame for it; telling them to keep their heads high as he pats their shoulder

he's not needed today and he watches as they're slowly released and disperse, all with a reminder of why they've worked so hard and who they’re here to protect

it's quiet on base that night; soldiers take any chance to celebrate and a graduation is nothing to sneeze at. ghost stands out in the field, out in the gentle quiet. his hands sit folded behind him as he looks up at the stars and he doesn't flinch as a voice sounds behind him

"been a long time since you could be called a rookie," price says, falling into place beside him

ghost hums. "longer for you, i’d say."

he huffs a laugh. "cheeky shite," he snickers. "that hasn't changed; bloody twig of a thing too big for his boots, angry at the world and ready to prove it wrong."

"plenty changed to make up for it," he huffs, his breath disturbing his gaiter

"lot more's stayed the same," price counters and steps in front of him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he squares his shoulders

"lieutenant riley," he starts and ghost almost rolls his eyes. "you've shown exemplary courage in the face of adversity, gone above and beyond the call of duty and expressed great leadership in your dedication to your team and the men in your charge. congratulations, soldier; you've earned it."

ghost swallows thickly and refuses to admit to the shine threatening his eyes. "thank you, sir."

price smiles and plucks his hat off his head, placing it on his and pats his head; brushing his thumb over his temple

"come on, son; you've waited long enough."