• Member Since 15th Nov, 2014
  • offline last seen Aug 31st, 2018


Just a fic writer, looking at things from a bit of a different perspective sometimes .


Shakespeare once wrote, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."

We didn't get our seven ages, we just got the end of the world. Surviving with a bunch of killers, who absolutely love ponies, well, it's interesting. We play our part, we made our entrance. Now, it's time to decide how we exit.

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 7 )

5510505 Suuuure makes ya wonder huh? :pinkiehappy:

welp, if only, *sighs longingly*

I'd want to see the scum that abandoned them taught the appropriate lesson.

6724471 One would think, being left alone in a ravaged world and living by the skin of their teeth, enough of a horror, wouldn't you? :pinkiehappy:

6726951 No. Not really. I know those types. Once bunkered up with enough supplies, they'll be as happy (more or less) as bugs in rugs. Trying to build their little Utopia, and absolutely certain that their success is inevitable, patiently waiting for the day that all of the infected die - even if only from wear and tear - and they can emerge with the cure (which they will invent, they're SURE of it, they're certain they cannot fail) and repopulate the world.

I *know* idiots who think like that. For them, punishment has to be physical. Because they're *oblivious* to any other sort.

6726963 Truth, I give you that, definitely. You and I seem to know the same types of folks. It's sad that some people don't learn until hit upside the head with reality, is it not?

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