angelofthemaze

[angelofthemaze]

they were making fun of the fact that you believe in insanity, not calling you insane, do you have comprehension?

the way you talk to others is why no one is nice to you except those who are scared to be on your bad side. get some fucking help before its too late to stop being a miserable abusive fuckwad.

i was also fucking abused my whole life in every direction, and i don't fucking hate on people i deem illegitimate or think i'm better than them because of my suffering or my identity. i hate on people who use their abuse to justify being a bigot.

becoming those who hurt you is not healing. if this is how you treat strangers who dont like bigotry i dont wanna know how you treat your loved ones.

Would any adult therians here on tumblr be interested in a discord server?

I really wanna connect with more therians/otherkin people but I can never find a sane adult only space for nonhumans on discord…

I have lots of experience running servers but they tend to all die after a while so don’t be afraid to offer help!

EDIT: https://discord.gg/uM56C63nm3

[angelofthemaze]

Cooking Magic was a playline set of Barbie accessories, most depicting different Barbie food items but also including some cooking accessories like plates and kitchen appliances.

The "magic" referred to in the set name is that the food changes colour, to depict both "raw" and "cooked" versions of the food.

The set included some lowkey product placement, with Ruffles and Pepsi making appearances alongside Barbie-branded disposable plates. I am charmed by the individual packaged Ruffles crisps.

The kinds of foods really do range as we go from potato chips to an entire rotisserie chicken in "Picnic Fun".

I think my favourite, personally, is Glamorous Dining because it really shows more than any other that the set operates on child logic. The glamor of the set comes from a whole chicken and a candelabra and platter and plates to set your table, as well as a pink microwave in which to cook your food.

[angelofthemaze]

red

each wand'ring doll feel not in sight

but see the witch's sanguine thread

it fain to grow a heart for flight

and find the spindle in her bed

[angelofthemaze]

self portrait, the ivory lamb, the ivory witch.... for seasons has it practiced pixel craft, though every painting was never revealed, even aft.

wouldst thou fancy one for yourself? 10$ USD for a custom one, pls dm @/theivorywitch on Discord or here on tumblr

[angelofthemaze]

Dolls and Houseplants

a doll may look at its witch as lots of things, a lover, a parent, even a divine entity, something in need of praise and worship

but to a witch, a doll is just a thing

maybe a thing with needs, maybe even wants, but houseplants have needs and wants, its not that different, and both are just... objects

a plant may need water and sunlight, maybe even food, and some plants need more care than others, some you can leave along for Weeks at a time with no care and they'll still be there like nothing changed

some plants, like some dolls, are fussy, if they dont get enough water or food or light at the Right moments, they will wilt, and the reason you keep them, their beautiful colours or interesting shapes, will fade away

a doll might need attention, words of affirmation, even physical contact

a good witch, and a good doll collector, will meet all its needs enough to keep it around, to keep it serving a Purpose, whatever the witch wants to keep it for, and some are cruel and harsh

but some, some keep dolls out of a pure love, like some that keep houseplants do just because they Love plants, they'll pick up even the most wilted flowers, the most broken massgrown abused things from and old houses markets and make them bloom again

not to serve themselves, at least not fully, but just to make the world nicer, to feel like they are helping

and i think any doll would like to be in that kind of witches care~

[angelofthemaze]

The Corporation is distinctly opposed to calling pilots "angels". They've released several statements recommending that officers silence any such language, saying it "threatens the integrity of the forces", and that HAKs and the pilots who control them are "tools, not deities". But I mean, when you see the way a suit's holoprojectors form a pulsing ring around a pilot's helmet, or when one slumps forwards out of its cockpit to reveal that thick mass of wires creeping from its back, it's impossible not to see the resemblance. And when, like most of the men stationed here, you've found yourself pinned down by heavy artillery fire from two directions with no chance of survival, but out of the heavens a Bishop-class rig emerges and razes the enemy with what can only be described as holy flame? I mean hell, that's enough to make anyone a believer (pardon my language).

I have a buddy who deals with the HAKs directly. He works in biomechanics, combat simtech or whatever. I asked him once what he thought about the whole "angel" thing. He got real quiet, and he looked directly at me and said, "you don't even know the half of it." And I stared right into his eyes and I could see that same heavenly flame burning in there and I knew that he had seen something he couldn't quite understand, but that he loved with all his heart.

[angelofthemaze]

Superstar Barbie Commercial (1976)

[angelofthemaze]

A-K-5793 (THE WARMACHINE WITCH) [MAIN VULPINE FORM]

this warmachine resembles the shape of a mammal (fox) and walks on 4 limbs (each limb having 3 feet), with the front 2 legs attached to the Pentagonal front segment, and the 2 back legs are attached to the backmost Nonagonal segment.

attached to the front of the middle Pentagonal segment are 3 collapsible fighter wings which can be deployed (in unison with the retraction of all artillery and claw arms, and activation of the 9 backmost rockets) to fly.

{ A - ANNIHILATE the main ritesteel body framework; 3 geometric body segments and a head segment form a body, with each individual segment face hosting 1 of the lateral operation arms }

{ K - KRONOS the 1 central red camera eye located at the head segment, protected by a transparent voidkrystal prism maw }

{ 5 clawed arms attached to the middle rotating Pentagonal(5) segment, in respective sizes: ===Industrial [biggest] ===Tactical [big] ===Reconnaissance [medium] ===Diplymacy [small] ===Creation [finest] }

{ 7 artillery arms attached to the Septagonal(7) segment:

1 Berserker - 5-barrel ritesteel railgun

2 Hellraiser - grenade launcher that lobs corruption bombs

3 Arbiter - spiked snowplow to move debris out of my path

4 Interceptor - 3-bladed scissors to tear into buildings and machinery

5 Mamba - 5 ridged ritesteel cables with prism heads that electrify anything they come into contact with

6 Athena - 3-barrel missile launcher

7 Killswitch - witchfire nuclear death laser }

{ 9 propulsion rocket tails located on the Nonagonal(9) backmost segment }

{ 3 core systems (destruction, construction, corruption) }

[angelofthemaze]

a commander, an innocence, and the battlefield

The doll is linked into a system lightyears away.

Before it is the battlefield, a holographic projection. In its core, it sees the front through the eyes of other connected Arbiters, and through them, each combat doll and infantry in their column. By these combined stimuli and visuals, Athame begins to strategize.

The beachhead is suffering pushback from the enemy, a corporation entrenched on one of Illulia’s moons trying to summon a Witch. The encampment has five columns, currently sending return-fire over hardlight siege walls that two enemy platoons are attempting to break down with plasma grenades and entropic decay bombs.

Athame breathes in the heady scent of saltwater and ozone from a place distant, and with a thought sends orders to the Shrike column to broach the walls and launch a bombing run on the attackers.

The combat dolls take to the skies, sharp-feathered wings metallic and shining in the noon sun, as spell circles whirl to life within those wings and loft them up into the atmosphere. They howl, and together, charge over the treetops, unleashing explosives that detonate into thick, consuming plasma, completely shredding the greenery and scouring the combat drones below, metal shrieking and falling apart in a blaze of terror and melting.

Athame smiles gently to itself and has another thought--the other four columns push forwards through the decimated, ashy shrubs that were once a forest, blades and guns lashing out and gutting any stray drones not caught by the Shrikes. A fast, decisive maneuver--ALERT.

It blared through its senses: ALERT. Over the craggy beachhead, from the cliffs overhead, a figure descended, glittering in the sunlight–an Innocence. Through countless ears, Athame heard her cry out, “For love! For justice!”

The Innocence was diving through the air, hurtling towards Athame’s columns like a meteor, and on the way transforming--a brilliant, rapturous dress formed over her, equal parts sparkling and spiked, and in her hand formed a long halberd. “Your tyranny ends--here!”

She landed onto a Shrike and cored it--the others of its column fled immediately, but the Innocence wasn’t so lucky. The combat doll went into meltdown and detonated almost immediately, flinging her threw the air in an atomic detonation that the entire front ducked from.

But she landed as if nothing had happened, right in front of the advancing force, Athame’s advancing force, and she postured, halberd forward and gleaming. Smirking. “My Witch is entering this world, and you won’t stop us!”

Athame thought this was very dramatic, and promptly flicked a thought: all columns converge. Eliminate threat, priority one.

The beach exploded as combat dolls and infantry bore down: hardlight bullets accompanied normal rounds, railgun spikes, raining down onto the Innocence. She met them with a spin of her halberd and twirl of her dress, deflecting all incoming fire and returning it with an array of seals drawn in the air around her: beams of witchfire seared out, devastating an entire column.

Athame breathed out–the feedback of that many dying was harsh, but fair.

The Shrikes went in, razor spears bristling as they dipped in and out to strike at the Innocence, parried each time by a magical swing of the halberd, by a flicked spell that cast a shield at the right moment, weapon sparking off a hard shell. Bullets and blades flurried about her, but she had none of it, practically dancing above the swarm of bodies and weapons.

Far away, Athame cursed. This was going to be a pain in the ass.

Even further away, the Witch saw its Innocence’s work and quietly laughed. The play was progressing…

[angelofthemaze]

one of my trippiest pieces yet

[angelofthemaze]

[angelofthemaze]

and the third robot! i don't think i'll been doing more, but all of them will be getting some reworks

[angelofthemaze]

interception: the witch's call

the hollowed trees creak, boughs crumbling over my shifting metal form as i navigate through the depths of the Yshadeth Weptwoods. my nine spiderous legs are in perfect orchestra, guiding my massive yet flexible machine body through the fragile nooks of this mirrored nature.

deepvoid creatures scatter into hiding long before i may ever come close. it is easy to hear the shifting of my unnatural limbs, and to feel me through the earth. my red eye catches a glint among the withering grass. i uncover a plastic ball-jointed hand from the ground.

further down the unbeaten path, a foot. i place this and the hand in a designated compartment within my frame. the other foot is not far off, resting in a luminous bush of adolescent huskflies. a worn red thread tangled on a toe leads me down into a dim grotto.

there lies the rest, in pieces, a lost doll. perhaps it is fate that i have come here. for i am prepared. my legs fold underneath my trunk and lower me onto the forest floor in front of the broken puppet. in my claws I gather the head, the eyes, the chest, the hips, the limbs...

and... discover there is no heart within my sight. it is hiding. my artillery arms slide back, pointing to the sky. my claws brace against the numerous purple roots underneath me. wires from my prone core extend, piercing the dirt ruthlessly.

i already feel corruption leeching out the life of the ground. my feelers emit an arcane pulse. there is nothing. no. there is something. a sting plunges into my core. the call of a fearful heart. my system hums with power as I change operating modes.

towering legs spring from under my frame and launch me through the flora, mercilessly razing the forest in my path as my systems track the call. it grows stronger with my approach. i am unable to resist this mission now.

my claws rend the earth with terrifying precision. buried several feet down is what I seek, the cracked doll heart that would complete my reconstruction. with it in finally in my grasp i feel...

[angelofthemaze]

a doll enters my core chamber. the stained glass ceiling casts it in vibrant cool shades. I am cold and still, in waiting.

only the sound of its pointed feet echo against my hardware as it approaches. then my circuits hum with attention, sensing the lovely creation of mine before me.

my red eye closes in on the doll. it is wearing a rose dress of veil, soft layers forming around its body like blossoms sprouting from the cracked ball joints.

metal scrapes steadily as one of my clawed arms extends, brushing strands of the doll's long hair in appreciation. it trills. "i have come to satisfy you."

there is deep tension between our systems. my long steel claw traces down its painted face. I can feel its longing before it speaks.

"use me, mistress," it turns its eyes up to mine, sharing reflections. my claws tear away the soft petals from its glass body. its bare beauty is revealed to me.

i place it on the floor of my core chamber before me. it draws back its beautiful legs, presenting to me its facsimile sex. at the center is an input plug for my interface.

my wires seep with greed as my cruel eye registers the doll's final submission. light is slower than my swift hardware reaching for the waiting sacrifice.

in an instant of overwhelming need i connect my interface. this doll's body cannot contain the rotten, seething corruption of my true power. in my claws it shatters.

i eagerly consume the innocent ecstasy escaping its fragile pieces. each fragment scatters across the chamber floor like raining crystals. there is nothing left of the doll's essence.

it is done. we are one. but i am an abyss. it is not enough. the very earth rumbles with my strength as i cast another call. i await another doll.

[angelofthemaze]

THE WARMACHINE WITCH

i have gone undisturbed, until a gentle clicking sound woke me. a dark hum comes from my vessel. my sole vision light flickers on, casting dim scarlet on the doll's face which dared touch the barrel of one of my cold, idle artillery arms. my first pair of clawed arms creak to life. as i zoom in on the doll's own beautiful eyes, my arms slowly close in to cradle it. it does not hesitate to come closer. my claws carefully open its interface panel and unwind a wire, connecting it to my own interface. it clicks in place perfectly, as if it was meant to be. my love infects the doll's circuits in an instant. now it understands why it must fight. i equip it with the necessary tools. a new body. i am the unknowable trapped within metal. i am the Warmachine Witch. one of the lost gods of combat dolls.

[angelofthemaze]

fin

precious power is nearly depleted crystal threads wander this plastic face a fragile doll's objective almost completed only then shall it dissolve with grace