Can we talk about how in zombie shows/movies/books they always find a veterinarian and not a surgeon? Are veterinarians deemed more likely to survive the apocalypse?
In honor of @bitchqueen1114 's birthday, here is a post.
A “THE END IS HERE” sign hangs around the neck of a zombie that limps through the view of the scope on their rifle.
Whether you are writing a futuristic dystopia or a cloud city of dragons, you need to figure out how people get basic supplies. These are often the most overlooked worldbuilding questions since it’s more fun to think about how cultures honor the dead or where the mountain ranges are, but answers are necessary to create a complete world.
-Where does the water come from and how is it distributed?
-Who makes the food?
-Who transports and distributes the food?
-If your world has modern utilities, are they widespread or only for the rich? For that matter, do utilities have to be modified to work in your world (for example, electric lines with anti-magic coating)?
-What happens to trash?
-What happens to sewage?
-What building materials are available?
-What do people do when they get sick?
-What do people do in the case of a natural disaster?
-What do people do in the case of a fire?
-How are large objects moved?
-How are items that take skilled labor to make created and distributed?
Remember, the answers might be different for people at different economic levels.
OP made the post unrebloggable but said it's fine to screenshot and I'm in love with this
It must suck being the second generation of a post apocalyptic world cause like half the population is gonna be named Hope or some shit
I was worldbuilding two bog standard fantasy species, wise old tree dudes and impulsive little rat guys, when I realized it was far funnier if they had each other's personalities.
The rat guys think fast and talk fast, but they're incredibly conservative and like to cover all the angles before they take any action. This comes with being a prey species: their ancestral environment had lots of clever traps and devious hazards, so you get rat councils wisely working the problem.
The tree dudes speak and move slowly, but they will propose and then do the most insane things you can imagine. They can slot together a rocket in an afternoon and will then use it without so much as a test fire first. They test new potions by quaffing them down, sometimes not even waiting for it to cool (though they're tree dudes, so I guess quaffing a potion just means pouring it over their root legs). This comes from the ancestral selection process too: the tree dudes that won were the ones that took big risks, that grew faster, stronger, and tried new things without worrying about consequences. The tree dudes evolved in an era when they had no natural predators and their only competition was each other.
And this is, of course, initially confusing for any human who makes contact with them. If a giant bearded tree nods at you solemnly and tells you to go through a portal, your first thought is not that he's curious about what will happen to spacetime. And if a hyperactive little rat guy tells you with some urgency that you must accompany him into a ruined city, you won't immediately think that this is step 11 of his branching 27 step plan.
“So mermaids and sirens are two different species?” “Just so. My people, what you call mermaids or merfolk, share a common ancestor to you humans, making us distant cousins. What you call sirens, however, are fish that evolved to look and sound like humans to attract their favorite prey.”
Just an inspiring author posting summaries, concepts, and plot galore!
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