Alright, so here’s what went down last week. It was all about hitting that rugged path in “Days Gone Remastered” — you know, zombies and survival with a pinch of gritty charm. We tossed out the challenge to capture some epic survival moments and slap on those #PSshare #PSBlog tags. And you folks… well, you delivered. Here’s some of the gold we found:
First off, calisarah1998 caught Deacon just chilling smack in the middle of a street that feels like the world forgot about it. No cars, no people — just Deacon doing his lone wolf thing. Why it made me think of my walk to grab milk the other day, I have no clue. But there it is.
Then, itsRyanUnicomb gave us this cool angle of Deacon’s motorcycle with the night sky spread out like a cozy blanket. Stargazing in a post-apocalyptic world? Sure, why not. I got distracted by the bike’s reflection — I swear it winked at me.
We’ve also got tulippooh3’s snapshot of Deacon striding through a field that’s bathed in that golden hour glow. The kind that makes everything look poetic, even though you know the world’s kinda screwed. It’s like one of those moments where you think, “Man, I’m hungry. But wow, look at that view.”
EmperorHal zeroed in on Boozer, giving us a close-up of his head tattoo. I’ll admit, I’ve spent too long wondering what it would be like to get a tat. But hey, Boozer pulls it off.
Oh, and let’s not forget Holden88805, who shared the back of Deacon’s vest, decked with weapons. Sort of like a moving armory. Makes you think twice about approaching from behind, huh?
Lastly, r0gues_fr0ntier offered a glimpse of a Freaker through the busted glass of a car window. Creepy? Absolutely, but I couldn’t help but notice how the rain smeared on the glass kinda looked like abstract art. Weirdly beautiful in a “please don’t eat me” way.
So, curious to see others’ takes? Just search #PSshare #PSBlog on Twitter or Instagram to dive into more entries. If you’re itching to get in on next week’s action, stick with Deacon and snap some portraits. Get them in by 11:59 PM PT on May 7, 2025.
There you go — raw, unfiltered, and probably just as messy as my thoughts usually are.
