Alright, so, I've never exactly been decisive in picking people out during apocalypses, but I do have something remotely on topic to post here. Lots of discussion has been had about who you could take to the CYS bunker, but little has been said about the bunker itself. What, I wonder, would a bunker capable of supporting only 5 people look like? Well, I was able to build a pretty good bunker some months ago during a very secretive Let's Play I did in like January, and I dunno why, probably because it was just on-topic at the time, but I only posted it in a discord channel of like three people.
Here is the full tour, editted and revised, in accurate color, rendered for the Cystian Public.
This is my base of operations in House Flipper.
Uh, I can explain
This is a perfectly rational thing. The surf boards serve a very important purpose!
The Goblins fear them. It keeps the goblins in their yard-village and OUT of my house. But they dug this fish pond by themselves and I'm still pissed.
Every once in a while I give them a fruit offering to invade someone else's lawn and annex their land or belongings for myself. One day I will defeat the tyrannical housing association and rule the neighborhood with an even, righteous hand! And acquire the building permits to expand my bunker, probably.
Every time one scrub dies in battle, it seems like another goblin appears in their house. And they're still building new ones! It's a little concerning honestly. I'm glad I managed to oust them all from my house using surfboards.
The Goblin Grove, where they grow peaches in the summer and harvest pumpkins in the fall.
This is the Goblin Lord's manor. I beat him up so he answers to me now, according to Goblin Law. You really have to be proactive about controlling the goblins in your area if you want to get the most out of them. He's very possessive of his pool, it looks like. I think I technically have permission to swim there, as his liege, but I wouldn't want to mess with those guards of his.
This appears to be a Goblin Temple of some description... They barbecue their prisoners of war here and offer them to whatever spirit lives in that birdhouse. That whole process freaks me the fuck out, but hey, it's outside the surfboards so it's not my business.
I was able to save money on two surfboards by installing this outdoor gym machine, because they seem equally afraid of this.
My home gym is positioned in such a way that I can keep a watchful eye on them while I hone my ability to beat up the Boss Goblin.
Ah, yes, the house of the Goblin Shaman. He's the one in charge of the horticulture of this village, growing pumpkins and such in my yard. And he's probably also the one organizing the village-wide ritual that causes live fish to rain into the pond on Saturdays. I can't complain, it's pretty benign as far as goblin mischief goes.
Some goblins rarely make purely liquid potions, and instead make extremely powerful brines whose herbal effects are diffused into small portions of food. If you ever see suspicious pickle jars in your garden, don't eat them. There's no telling what effects they might have.
This is my lazy chair, where I can barbecue, keep an eye on the goblins, and threaten the neighbors all from under the same umbrella, which is just the zenith of American Outdoor Living in the pre-apocalypse stage.
This is also where a guest would presumably sit while I'm sitting on my barbecue yard throne, but the seating in my yard is a lot more sparse, because I don't know what to do when there's no walls. There's no feng shui to work off of.
This table in particular is where you can tell I got too excited to work on the inside of the house, and figured I would just design the rest of the outside space later. I know this would also look much nicer with some ground panels and stuff, but I hate laying brick/flagstone surfaces and planting trees and shit because it feels like actual jobs I've done for work, which is something I instinctively veer away from when playing games
But while the picnic table is a bit haphazard, this pizza oven is actually placed in one of the most tactical spots on the property. I've calculated its angle and placement precisely. You'll see why later on as we go.
For one thing, it's right next to the big pool!
There wasn't a diving board, nor did I really have any room for one, so the only way to throw yourself into the water at high speeds is to fling around on this swingy rope thing.
I really shouldn't have swung from the swingy thing while my buoyancy was this... Compromised. But luckily the stairs were built that way just in case I forgot I was wearing a 1500s full plate harness and did exactly that. That's the key to good interior and exterior design: Know yourself.
You'll see now one of the major strategic points about the oven's position. It's very convenient to eat pizza while sitting in the hot tub! And no, I'm not gonna talk about the vault hatch yet. That's a whole other thing to get into.
I know I haven't gone on that much about the general apocalypse preparedness of the house, but this is an important feature. I hung up these bat houses, and when shit hits the fan, I plan on putting up even bigger ones, so that when I'm ready to leave the bunker, I'll have giant mutant bat buddies who fondly remember my generosity and are also willing to keep the property clear of Cazadores. Some of them might be fruit bats, and I receive a tax of 54% of all the peaches they grow in the Goblin Grove, so they also have regular offerings to remember me by.
The astute will have noticed there's lots of security cams around the house- And that the door appears to be inside a very thick wall where the panelling goes all the way in. This is no mistake. The house is made of a very heavy tungsten structure and the "panelling" just happens to be a protective shell that's linked together like the rings of a rattlesnake tail, letting it flex and bend in the face of extreme forces. This building will undoubtedly stand a nuclear blast on any of the nearest dense population centers. Or an earthquake, because I think that happens most everywhere you can grow peaches.
But anyway, without further adieauxooue, The LIVINGROOM, right as we come in.
The flag of Cystia warms our walls as the most patriotic of tapestries.
It has a good strong table for stacking cinderblocks, playing board games, and apparently counting bullets and drinking tequila out of a pokemon. I suppose I also have a Big Spoon right there. In case I need it. I don't actually know how the pokemon got in here or who put it there, but buying a liquor bottle shaped like a creature in order to find out what it tastes like does seem like something I would do.
Now, I don't live in such a high-security house just because I'm preparing for an apocalypse. I have built this panic house for perfectly valid general safety reasons too. House Flipping is an intense business, and I have many dangerous rivals who would like to see me dead due to my based interior design decisions. But on the bright side, having enough enemies to necessitate a well-protected house with cameras, vault doors, bulletproof windows, and a goblin levy army, has allowed me to indulge the finer things in life, like collecting priceless artwork. This picture is just a replica, though. I keep the real one downstairs so that I can admire it for a few hundred years and preserve it after the apocalypse hits. But that's skipping way ahead, there's so much upstairs things to do first.
This is the main living area, which I designed primarily around its cool rug. I guess that ringy ball is also there because I like those things. They are the source of an entertaining and acceptable amount of injury to myself and others.
I am going to use my imagination to supercede the limitations of House Flipper, and just pretend that the floor is like a hexagonal-pattern wall to wall carpet, because the concrete poolside tiles they're supposed to be would surely be the death of me if I started doing anything stupid on a ringy ball.
I don't know why I went for this creepy crouch-behind-the-couch angle with the camera. Maybe it was to give a more immersive view of the tv and speakers, but I think it was to put more focus on the ringy ball.
I really like this couch and would probably sleep here a lot, using my room mostly to keep up appearances. I don't know why the dinner tray has the big rambo knife. I think the implication was that it was a really gopnik way to open a can of meatballs, but that can clearly has a pull tab on it. Meaning the knife is for eating meatballs with. Seems like a precarious affair, tbh.
Too many balls in this room. I'm going to go to the bathroom. It's hard to get a good angle on the whole room, because it's a small, very functional space. It's not needlessly ostentatious, like some kind of degenerate rich bathroom. This is a tasteful, just-the-right-amount-of-class, pleasantly fancy normal bathroom, with just the bare necessities! Well fuck, bare necessities was right. I forgot to put a mirror in here. It's alright though because if I polish the marble walls right, I'll be able to see my face above the sink anyway.
This is the shower and towel corner.
And THIS is the Toilet Zone. Now, I know, it's kind of a weird sight. But I'll be sure to put an appropriate mirror over the sink later. Nothing all that weird about this image otherwise
Of course I also keep the scoped AR15 rifle here for easy access while I'm shitting. As is my right. Mizal made the helpful comment that it'll be useful to protect myself if Wibn should ever find a way to seep his way up through my plumbing, but I may need to keep an additional pistol here for such close-quarters encounters. My REAL thinking here with the rifle was this:
If I'm ever out making pizza in my yard and I get an attack of the mad shits, (no doubt because I've been poisoned by some kind of dastardly degenerate pizza burglar) I can make a show of being like, "Oh no, I have to shit, I better go inside my house and leave my pizza unguarded"
And then BANG! RIGHT IN THE ACT!
I told you the positioning of my oven was extremely tactical, though you might not have believed me at the time.
This was supposed to be a picture of the door to the kitchen, but it was at this point that I took another picture of the alcoholic pokemon. I think it moved when I wasn't looking, so I had to make sure.
This is my Frank Frazetta-themed kitchen, featuring another priceless artwork. Well, actually, I guess the lighting would be way darker, warmer, and more moody if this were a Frank Frazetta kitchen. So it might have been a different orange-loving barbarian painter. Like, uhh... Maybe Earl Norem? I think he had a painting of Conan fighting a sandstorm that looked like these walls. Or maybe it was the guy who did the original cover of Heroquest. Actually, shit, this is my Heroquest kitchen.
THE BEST THING ABOUT HEROQUEST KITCHEN IS THE TEA AND CHINA SET.
The goblins first stole the tureen for me last christmas, and through their looting and pillaging have been bringing me a complete set since then, piece by piece. I have an illogical love of tureens. When a young lad saw a tureen for the first time, you know what he said? He said "What the hell purpose does this object serve?" and he was wrong to even wonder.
THE BEST THING ABOUT HEROQUEST KITCHEN IS THE SECRET INGREDIENTS.
At least two of these jars are mislabeled. That's how you keep the ingredients secret.
THE BEST THING ABOUT HEROQUEST KITCHEN IS THE PRICELESS BLEMMYE WOODCUT. IT IS THE FINEST WOODCUT OF A BLEMMYE IN ALL THE LAND.
THE BEST THING ABOUT HEROQUEST KITCHEN IS... Still the blemmye woodcut. I can't even pretend for the sake of the heroquest gag. That was objectively the best part of this kitchen. Some might be persuaded by the serene painting of a lobster in a shirt, but it's half the size of the Pointing Blemmye and by far the cheaper item on the illicitly obtained art market.
This is my bedroom, it's still a work in progress. I know the first time I redecorated this house on my old save, it had a lot more cool stuff on the walls. Also the first time I redecorated this house, I wasn't single. But now that I am, I only have to be concerned with one side of this bed being used, and can occupy the other side with this elliptical machine shaped like a guy with his arms in the air going, "AAAAA!" When the raiders come after this house, I'll be able to put clothes on this elliptical and a picture of my face to distract them.
You see, this would be a good angle to jumpscare anybody opening the door.
This is my corner of the bed, where I ponder the secrets of the purple trianguloid every evening. And yes, that is indeed the famous shotgun I grab every time I think I've detected WIBN.
In another example of my brilliant forethought, it also has a sightline on my pizza oven. This is the window directly beneath the bat houses, too. So if I'm cooking pizza at night and I have to go to my room to get something, I can command them from this window like the monkeys in wizard of oz.
And this is my office, which did magically appear as I was taking pictures. This room is magical like that.
The wall next to it looks inappropriately bare. Well, more inappropriately bare than most of the other portions of wall in here.
There. Now I can keep track of all the hidden mysteries of CYS while I'm on the internet. I know the computer looks like a dinosaur, but it's the only way I can still use the site on the top secret unfinished Fancy Mode from the times before the big site update.
Truly something, isn't it? It was the product of an age undreamed of. The liminal times, back when Mizal's name was un-capitalized, the world was young, and death was but a dream.
I also installed this TV sideways so that it's easier to watch while I'm laying down, and it'll give the elliptical thing some ominous backlighting to boot.
And now, at long last, we're ready to enter the bunker. You may have noticed some helvetica signs in the background. This is important if the apocalypse strikes while Cystians are visitting, because I know not all of us read things. there might not be time to explain. And also, it's important that visitors know that there's security cameras watching the outside, and especially important that certain members, *ahem*CORGI*ahem* know where the bathroom is.
But yes, let us finally go into The Bunker. It might be difficult to see because the room-by-room lighting system of this game is fucked, and these lights will not actually turn on because, since you're on a staircase as soon as you enter the room, you're never actually on the floor that the engine considers part of the "room" that the stairwell is on, so these lights will never actually turn on. But rest assured, the paneling I used is meant to expose the layered segments of solid steel alloy insulated with heat-resistant rubber, to ensure that more than just unreliable things like the ground are protecting it from nukes and ballistic weapons. This bunker is like a submarine that can sail through dirt. It will survive any natural disaster!... Even if it's no longer in the same county by the time it's over.
Don't let the concrete and industrial panelling color your expectations though, it's much more homey downstairs.
This is the "real" front door of the house. Or, it would be, assuming the top part manages to get really fucked up during the apocalypse. I built it to be easy to clean, as it is the designated laundry and supplies area, but also to uphold the general appearance and values of civilized living to all visitors, as this waiting room may well be one of the last public bastions of such things come the great SHTF'ing. As you can see, I couldn't afford (nor did I have the space for) full renaissance paintings, so I settled for hanging souvenir dinner plates over the door. They may become the last surviving copies of the works one day.
Normally that drying rack is folded up and put somewhere else, but there's no option to hang a folded drying rack anywhere, so right now it just serves as a deathtrap to get somebody coming down here unawares to trip and fall off concrete stairs. I made sure to put an extra beautiful painting there so that it can be looked at and pondered. Imagery of what the outside world once was and could look like is a key factor of not going insane after years of subterranean living. And also if people get past the first blast door, they might stop and get distracted by the beauty of the painting, and the security camera can put them down with its built-in 9mm.
This is where the laundry stuff would normally be kept, it's the general supply area full of crates and jerry cans and other useful stuff. The space behind the stairs is also empty, leaving room for probably months' worth of food and shit. Potentially years, if I'm willing to hoarder-house this particular space with crates and barrels and gradually throw out the empty containers, but I'm not quite there yet, because it just doesn't look natural to fully stack and stock up the entire cubby in this game.
Maybe the rest of my supplies will be under the totally hidden trapdoor area that leads to the rest of my power generator. because clearly this little easily attackable greenie thing wouldn't actually cut it. This is probably just the small emergency generator.
The door itself is virtually everything-proof, and of course the motion-detecting camera also has that gun in it. So you have to ring the doorbell politely if you intend to be let inside by the occupants. In the meantime we've set out some tea and communist literature for those waiting for their evaluation. Their response to Mao's Little Red Book will be carefully measured by an expert me.
Of course, a primary fixture of the living room is our Siege Gun, in case anyone tries forcing us to open the door by holding our lobby supplies hostage.
But the living room is much more inviting when that's folded up and put away next to the arcade machine (unfortunately also not doable in-engine.) I carefully agonized over the color of the room. Because while I generally find dark and cold colors more comforting and nice to look at when I have the freedom to go outside, I knew I needed an alternative when inside was the only option and I may not experience sunlight for years on end. So I went for bright orange walls so that it would feel warm and homely, and also added the yellow corners so that the room would look brighter and more open, but the main part of the wall itself could feel a cozy amount of dark and not have to be oppressively bright. Using my extremely rudimentary knowledge of interior design theory, that's the best recipe I know to keep this space from getting too claustrophobic, which is good because I might be spending a really long time here. Of course there's also all the amenities of home, like TV, and a kitchen, and two mini-fridges that can be deactivated individually, because I might not always have the power to maintain one full-sized refrigerator.
There's also the prized bourbon and three tumblers (and three gas masks) down here, because I figure from a bedding standpoint, the maximum occupancy here would be me, someone in a fucked up enough situation to wind up on the other side of the bed, and a couch-sleeping Cystian lucky enough to find this place shortly before the apocalypse. More Cystians might be able to stay depending on who's okay using a sleeping bag or something- Or if the nature of the apocalypse means the upper part of the house is still intact. But just in case this bunker is really all we have, there's also the filing cabinet full of supplies like clothes and miscellaneous outside things.
And also the Second Peacock. (Very important.)
The surveillance cameras are all routed to the TVs on the shelves there, so that we can watch for outside movements and intruders while we watch movies and wait for news stations to come back on.
And of course, all the supplies we need if we're for some reason (lord forbid) going to go... Outside... during the Dark Times. A gas mask, a crowbar, a deagle, and the remains of a 6-pack of BANG may be all I have for the journey to Wal-Mart. I've built my survival strategy around that.
And of course all the necessary things for a kitchen. I'm not actually sure all the coffee would do me any good in the sanity department, but I am cognizant of the fact that many people will go insane without coffee. So, if I intend to survive the apocalypse with other people, it's a wise investment.
Also this fabulous still-life painting from the Dutch Golden Age, to keep us reminded of the delicious fruit that potentially awaits on the surface. And also to provide lots of detailed little things to ponder, which is important. People will have to do a lot of painting-pondering to pass the time sometimes.
There's also a nice painting next to the arcade machine. Particularly more Outside Imagery to keep stir-craziness down, but also, importantly, Naval imagery, to remind people of the nobility, courage, and adventurous nature of living on or in confinement. If such a thing were an option, it would be a framed image of a Napoleonic battle, or the deck of a mighty galleon, but no such paintings are available in House Flipper.
Of course, in addition to the auspicious imagery of my black market art collection, there's also the cultural imagery to remind us of our loyalties and heritage. History will remember Cystia by their artifacts, and they will know we stood strong against the tyrannical Cogite tribes when the dark times came.
And of course, if all else fails, there is but one image we have left to maintain or perhaps restore our sanity in a potentially challenging environment. No one could go insane looking at this. It is psychologically impossible. The door to the right of the puppy is the bathroom. I figured that was a good feng-shui move, as it may be critically important to restore one's sanity before or after using the bathroom. Long have I had emotionally devastating rage-shits when I eat too much beef chili and then remember Wibn breathes the same air that these cows, beans, and tomatoes once did.
The door to the left of the puppy leads to my bedroom, which bears the only acceptable pride flag of ahrm, 'my people'. Which I had to partially hide behind the bedframe because the game did something really fucked to the transparent png I uploaded, but otherwise it would hang much higher. Also, yes, that is the original 'Sentinel The Conqueror'. Valued at $500, it is the top 185th most valuable and coveted full-size Frazetta painting. Truly the jewel of my collection.
This is my sick Secret PC Setup, which I can use to play games with all the settings. And the Fez I wear for the totally-not-a-secret-fraternity that I'm definitely not in, that doesn't discuss pictures of dog turds and do hermetic rituals.
There's also radio and communication equipment I can use to get in contact with any cystians around the country (or, unfortunate souls they may be, the land that was once Canada) who may have survived the apocalypse, and from that point, coordinate future survival and political schemes to further the Cystian Agenda as our people rise from the ashes of this world.
Of course, at the time I built this place I was unexpectely single, but I figured that the apocalypse is definitely something to plan ahead for. So while my side of the bed has all the stuff I think I'll need at my bedside, (Including an assault rifle. Because if Wibn STILL manages to come for us in the end times, then I'm DONE FUCKING AROUND) the other side of the bed has all the stuff I think a malnourished wastelander woman might need.
Well, shit, that's kind of a weird joke to end on. How about we take a tour of the bathroom, since that's really the crown jewel of this bunker.
So this is the bathroom. It's another one of those open-shower type deals, partially because those smooth slabs of marble and these linoleum sheets made to look like tile are especially easy to clean. And it's of hyperbolic importance that the bathroom is clean and does not become gross in any way during my stay here, because, in a truly nuclear apocalypse, I will be trapped down here with it. And also it's good to have entirely waterproof surfaces lining the whole inside of the bathroom, so that people can have therapeutic steamy showers and not shorten the life of the only bathroom we might have for a long time.
Some extra medical supplies and a safe full of treasure are also kept here because, whether you're coming in from that vault entrance out in the yard, or you're coming in through the big door attached to the rest of the house, this place requires you get through the most blast doors to get to, and is effectively the final panic room if the worst should occur.
I hadn't yet fully kitted out the medicine cabinet, but it has some of the bare essentials. And an hourglass so you can time yourself to save water/brush your teeth and shit.
There's also the Toilet Corner, next to the shower, in the unfortunate case that we either run out of toilet paper or you really really fuck up using the bathroom. I may be down here for decades, and accidents happen to the best of us. Don't pretend that they never do!
Of course, the shower is extremely cool and one of my finer achievements in designing a space. I think this may be one of the places that saves my mind during long protracted periods underground.
What you see here is a waterproof vinyl replica of the Great Wave Off Kanagawa. I put it here specifically so that while I'm taking a shower early in the morning, I can pretend I'm looking out the window of some kind of futuristic ship on a stormy sea. There's also a cup so I can drink my morning drink of choice, and a bowl so I can eat Shower Fruit. An experience I dubiously recommend.
I can also turn on the shower and be like, "WE'VE BEEN HIT! MAN THE CANNONS!" making myself the alarm clock for everyone in the bunker, so nobody goes insane by losing their sense of time and place. There's no way that could have dubious effects on anybody for any reason.
As far as who I'd take with me to this place in the event of dire circumstances- I think this place would house 5 people relatively comfortably in the event of a non-nuclear apocalypse, so I will be able to pick the people I think would make the strongest team from this base.
Tim and Chris are a package deal, you can't pick one without the other. Tim's commitment to wholesomeness and friendship is critical for the morale of the Cystian cause, and Chris's raw fortitude (he's seen and been through some shit) will be critical in finding and rescuing other survivors. I think both of them have guns, so this will be helpful. I think it might also be possible to power the generators with Infinite Dew, if it comes to such a thing.
Cricket would probably be the best person for abstract logistics and stock-taking of supplies as a mostly-trained accountant and math-doer. She may or may not have access to a gun, I don't remember, but she can pierce people with misused farming tools as well as anyone, and also pierce souls with her glare, so she can still help us through a dire and violent situation. She also has a boyfriend who could also prove a helpful +1 if he stays outside in the goblin village where he fucking belongs.
Mizal's stalwart level-headedness and sense of humor in the face of the worst news will carry our sanity through the worst of it.
Endmaster has the highest streetwise stat out of all of us as a Detroit Survivor, and his knowledge might be more conducive to our safety in a decaying neighborhood than a fortified compound alone.
Dark and Malk I wouldn't bring with. Not because they didn't make the cut, but because it's critical to my plan. Most of the Cystians on the North American continent are between them, and it would be immensely valuable to the survival of our people to have two bowmen out there coordinating, reporting back to us from the downstairs communications center on the state of the outside world, and bringing together the remaining Cystians in the latitudes between when borders fall to shit. Malk's task when the apocalypse comes is critical, but also perhaps the most dangerous, as he will have to Jihad Fury-Road-Style through the accursed French Lands in order to reach the far northwest and usher Anthony to safety, to ensure the survival of CYS itself.
