#<- tagging so i can find this later! :)
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aphel1on · 1 year ago
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i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good
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kentucky-fried-thea · 2 years ago
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you call them flop posts but I call them reaching my target demographic: whichever mutuals are active rn
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hungarianmudkip69 · 3 months ago
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My dad got himself a cake for his birthday today
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arttuff · 8 months ago
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theyre chillin
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 25 days ago
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hope you feel better soon!
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I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!
#ask#non mdzs#My health journey has been: Hernia -> acid reflux -> Vocal pain due to aforementioned reflux -> chest infection.#I'm terrified to know what's about to hit me next. Please let it be something kind. PLEASE.#The consequence of living with linguists is that you'll wake up with a wacked up voice -#suddenly you're sitting you down in front of a program called something like Praat having your shimmer and jitter levels calibrated.#They gave me a GRBAS of 33012. I have a fun thing called a pitch break where a whole octave just does not exist.#My vocal pain was bad enough I ended up seeing a speech pathologist and that whole experience was super neat!#I learnt a lot about voice - to be honest I might make a little comic on it after some more research. Fascinating stuff.#For example; your mental perception of our voice modulates the muscles of the vocal folds and larynx.#meaning that when you do have changes (inflammation = more mass = lower frequency)#your brain automatically attempts to correct it to what it 'should sound like'. Leading to a lot more vocal strain and damage!#And it gets really interesting for trans voice care as well - because the mental perception of one's voice isn't based on an existing sampl#So a good chunk of trans voice training is also done with the idea of finding one's voice and retraining the brain to accept it. Neat!#Parkinsonial Voice also has this perception to musculature link! The perception is that they are talking at a loud/normal volume#but the actual voice is quite breathy and weak. So vocal training works on practicing putting more effort into the voice#and retraining the brain to accept the 'loud' voice as 'normal'.#Isn't the human body fascinating?#Anyhow; Now I have vocal exercises and strategies to reduce strain and promote healing.#Which is a lot better than my previous strategy of yelling AAAH in my car until my 'voice smoothed out'.#You can imagine the horror on the speech path's face. I am an informed creature now.#I'm my own little lab rat now. I love learning and researching. Welcome to my tag lab. Class is dismissed.#I'll be back later with a few more answered asks </3 despite everything I'm still going to work and I need the extra sleep.#Thank you for the well wishes! And if you read all of that info dump; thank you for that as well!
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curapicas · 4 months ago
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does anyone have thoughts on the focus switching to Kabru, like.
At this point we and Kabru both see Laios begin to put together a plan to take down the mad magician, and Marcille is essential in this. But perceptive as Kabru is, he's got to know that this is also for Marcille' sake.
Sure she'll be an advisor together with him in the future, but here, all he saw from her was a spell backfiring into a monster and her begging people to not hurt someone who's murdering-a-ton. He doesn't have a high opinion of her priorities, even if he doesn't wish ill on her. My first thought was that Laios defense of her would be a bit frustrating for Kabru, even. Though he has an equally low opinion of the canaries' methods, and Shuro's report would force their involvement
But honestly, his past disgust with Marcille doesn't factor in this at all. This might be the first time Kabru is seeing how seriously Laios takes both defending his plans and a friend. Against someone Laios respects, no less! Considering what Kabru's own objectives are (a mission, but not progressing enough to formulate well-thought plans), as well as his most selfish desire is (companionship), I wonder if seeing this didn't affect him, a little. Maybe as an inspiration? Or as kinship?
After all, isn't “this person is both an important part of this plan and important to ME, and I won't let you kill them” reminiscent of another dynamic? Even if in this moment, he's not there yet.
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fishing-lesbian-catgirl · 1 year ago
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Holy shit they made the cowkini print into an animal
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anastacialy · 8 months ago
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tracked down this clip just because of this post! have jokes from skizz and scar
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hoosbandewan · 3 months ago
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As many of you know, I've been keeping tabs on Aemond's screen time this season of HotD. With the finale now aired, I can share the final tally.
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Episode 1 - 158 seconds / 2.63 minutes
Episode 2 - 123 seconds / 2.05 minutes
Episode 3 - 96 seconds / 1.6 minutes
Episode 4 - 159 seconds / 2.65 minutes
Episode 5 - 168 seconds / 2.8 minutes
Episode 6 - 325 seconds / 5.42 minutes
Episode 7 - 93 seconds / 1.55 minutes
Episode 8 - 200 seconds / 3.33 minutes
1,322 seconds / 22.03 minutes
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krysmcscience · 1 month ago
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Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)
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This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)
I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)
Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!
Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!
He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!
Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.
Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:
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I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao
Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)
Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:
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He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.
To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.
Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)
A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~
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The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D
No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.
I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:
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He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)
And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:
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Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:
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Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)
whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now
I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE
#fanart#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#stanley pines#the love god#human bill cipher#human bill design#fashion design#comics#poor stan gets to find out his twin boinked a triangle when the love god shows up at the mystery shack demanding payment LMAO#cue internal panic for stan as dipper and mabel lose their collective shit over the fact that they now have a surprise new grunkle bill#the love god helps himself get paid by teaching the kids how to trap bill in his human vessel for the foreseeable future#bill is bewildered and pissed but also very much 'holy shit i have a FAMILY again??? neat but terrifying??????? what the F*CK do i do now'#he then proceeds to attempt to lovebomb his new family into being okay with the impending apocalypse#all while the three of them attempt to lovebomb HIM into giving up his plans for said impending apocalypse#then two days later ford shows up and is just like. what the ACTUAL F*CK IS HAPPENING???#cue stan immediately screaming 'I HAD TO PRETEND TO BE THAT THING'S HUSBAND FOR TWO DAYS STRAIGHT SO F*CK YOU AND YOUR BAD TASTE FOR THAT!'#stan spends those two days straight dropping very sour hints that he's being punished for someone else's terrible mistakes#bill finds this absolutely hilarious and thus plays along - but not without dropping his own hints that ford is the FAR superior twin#dipper and mabel have ZERO idea of what is actually going on because the love god did NOTHING to clarify the situation#dipper is convinced that stan and bill are speaking in some kind of bizarre code that only adults can understand#mabel is convinced that the code is flirting - which means stan and bill are going to live happily ever after and have tons of kids + pets#NEITHER of them are prepared for ford showing up. not that they were in canon. but still. now it's even MORE crazy#'what do you mean we get TWO NEW GRUNKLES???' 'two grunkles in two days - gotta be some kinda record'#ford then has to decide if he wants to remain justifiably furious at bill or join the other pines in lovebombing him into submission#he then gets to learn that lovebombing bill works surprisingly well because that triangle is just The Biggest Attention Wh*re#the entire AU would just be ridiculous antics with a splash of billford#these tags are an abomination lmao
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prismsoup · 2 months ago
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New emotes !!! Moon loading (with two gif versions, one with a transparent background (courtesy of @sunkissedspirit) and one with background) and SOS heart (main design with an eyeless puppet, plus one with an eye if people prefer that version)
Again, feel free to use them in your own servers (as long as Im credited somewhere) !!
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tswwwit · 2 months ago
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Cipher's Personal Portable Portal
'How they meet' won the poll!
So just to make things fully contextualized, as far as they're gonna be - here's the full first chunk of this stupidly long fic I'm writing.
I hope you enjoy!
Standing in the wreckage of the burnt-out building, Dipper wishes he didn’t know who did it.
Anyone else would have left some trace sign. A scrape of blood, a hint of burnt hair. A friggin’ decent eyewitness report, even.
But here, like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that - there's absolutely zero traces. No video footage, nobody around at the time of the crime. Not even footprints.
Dipper kicks one of the remaining supports, sending a puff of charcoal up from the impact. 
If he knew the bastard’s name, he’d curse it all to hell.
With a sigh of exhaustion, Dipper sits on a chunk of scorched foundation. He pulls his shoe off to tip the ashes out of it; there’s enough that the resulting cloud leaves him coughing. 
Around him, the scoured west wing of the museum is silent, still, and empty. A grey-black skeleton of its former self, filled with dust and charcoal.
This arson is yet another one in a very, very long line of crimes. They’re not just ‘unrelated incidents’, or ‘bizarre coincidences’. Dipper’s not ‘being paranoid’ or ‘coming up with some pretty weird conspiracy theories’. 
There’s only one person who could manage this. The same guy who turned a bank upside down - literally -  and the same one who impaled a mob boss on an oversized silly straw and gave tails to half of a household last week.
It’s all connected.
Each crime is marked with the same style, mostly by how remarkably weird they are. Along with a thread of magic, distinct in its composition. One so distinctive that it's almost a flavor. Though admittedly, without certain magical analysis, it’s pretty hard to detect. 
And if other freelance magicians would take the time and look at Dipper’s notes, maybe one of them would help find this asshole.
Dipper stalks through the burned building, fists balled in his pockets. He stumbles over a fallen support column, and nearly trips before he makes a hopping retreat back. 
Though the culprit has been at his game - whatever ‘game’ that is - for a good half a year now, this is the most destructive ‘incident’ so far. Nobody was hurt, since it happened in the middle of the night. The one relief from a terrible crime, that only objects were obliterated in the process - 
But the ashes speak for themselves.
Here, there’s nothing left.
He breathes in slowly. Then regrets the attempt at calming himself as he coughs again.
Whatever the culprit’s initial motive was, it hasn’t lasted. He’s grown not only in ambition, but also in his abilities. Things are escalating at a rate Dipper doesn’t like to think about.
Someone has to get to the bottom of this. Before it’s too late. Dipper’s got his number, metaphorically speaking, so. Well, might as well be him. 
And when he proves that all of this chaos was created by the same person - 
Well. A little boost to his meager reputation couldn’t hurt. Maybe a few medals and accolades. There isn’t a trophy for best monster hunter, but he can imagine standing on a podium and -
Dipper waves that thought off, swearing under his breath. Stupid. He has better things to focus on.
He’s the only freelancer on the case. Definitely the only one taking this seriously, the only one who thinks it’s the same person to begin with -  and even he’s starting to have some doubts about ever finding the bastard. 
Six months of tracking this guy down, and what does he have to show for it? A ramshackle compilation of incidents, a vague feeling of magic, and a description that could fit any bottle-blond actor with bad fashion sense. Scraps. He might as well pin them up and connect them with red string for all the good it does him.
Another kick sends Dipper hopping back, clutching his foot with a swear. He winces at the hole in the tip, he nearly punctured his foot on a nail.
Just his luck. Wrong place, wrong time, always just barely avoiding disaster. Dipper shows up whenever there’s an event, he’s got the means to follow the guy - but he’s always just a little too late.
Even worse, lately the guy’s been picking places… not at random, exactly. More like he causes trouble wherever it’d be the most annoying to follow.
The culprit must know someone is on his trail. But he’s not making it impossible to keep up, or even majorly difficult for a determined pursuer. Just really, really irritating, like making moves at three in the morning, or pausing just long enough for someone to catch up, then heading right back where he came from. At one point Dipper had to trudge through a literal swamp, only to find that bastard had sauntered in by baking himself a neat little trail right through the damn thing. There wasn’t even footprints to follow.
It’s a repeated point in Dipper’s notes. Whoever this is, they’re a total, absolute dick.
With a sigh, Dipper runs his fingers through the ash on the museum’s floor. Not a single thing is left beyond the shattered glass of some display cases, and the charred remains of the building. Even the enchanted metal tools have been melted into slag. 
The day before yesterday, he could tell something was up. Building energy, something that felt like it was made by the culprit. Something with the twinge of a powerful curse, coiled and being wound up like a spring. 
Dipper spent that evening convincing - okay, maybe also bribing, thank you Stan for the idea - the museum to let him borrow materials. The day after that, he spent all night, morning, and most of the afternoon running around slapping up anti-curse emblems. The entire south of the city warded, in a fine careful net of spellcraft. The work was exhausting. Both in running around, and in the amount of magic he’d needed to use.
But it was worth it. That evening, in the quiet and very uncursed city, all the emblems activated. Dipper would have sworn he sensed someone in the distance, cursing his own name. That night he went to bed with a smug sense of satisfaction, floating on a cloud of triumph.
Which is probably why the bastard burned down the museum next.
With another sigh, Dipper tucks his notebook back into his knapsack. He’s gleaned all he’s going to for today; in the fading evening light, searching more is pointless.
So much for all the magical artifacts. Most of those had come in really useful in messing with the guy. 
…How the hell did the culprit know where they came from, though? He’d need a near encyclopedic knowledge of artifacts to know which ones Dipper used, then track them back to their origin. 
Or maybe he just searched on the internet. It’s hard to tell.
Dipper just wishes there were more clues. But just like every other incident, the guy up and freakin’ vanished.
No human can disappear like that without some very irresponsible use of power. That hope is one Dipper’s hanging his hat on. After six months? He has to be reaching his limits. He’ll burn himself out before he can manage too many more incidents. Maybe Dipper will find him by stumbling on his withered, dissolving corpse.
Whoever this is is pretty strong, but no power is infinite. He can’t hide forever.
It can’t be too much longer. Won’t be. Dipper has a plan, he’s gotten really close, and - He’s good at his job, damn it. He knows he is. 
Taking a deep, slow breath, Dipper lets it out. Patience is the name of the game here. He’s just gotta keep moving.
One day, he’s going to catch up with that bastard. He’ll see the guy in the flesh. Then he’ll grab that stupid dick before he can escape, again, and wipe that presumably smug look off his probably ugly face.
Turning around one last time, Dipper surveys the destruction, stuffs his hands in his pockets - and pauses. 
A speck of light glints in the pile of ash. The last bit of evening sun, shining off a metallic surface.
Alert with surprise, Dipper scrambles over to the pile. Kneeling down, he brushes the dust carefully aside, careful not to disturb anything fragile that might shatter if handled wrong. 
One thing did survive. Thank fuck, it’s not an absolute total loss. Just, uh… Ninety-nine percent of it.
He scuffles through the still-warm ashes, cupping his palms underneath the lump and lifting it from its bed. The motion sends white puff rising up as ash slips away from the artifact.
A small black, squarish thing rests on the pile, a bit larger than both his palms put together. The material is faintly warm from residual heat, insulated by the ash it laid in - and there’s not a mark on it. Not even a scratch. 
Dipper turns the artifact over in his hands with a frown. The shining black surface reveals no obvious buttons or secrets. Just a kind of phone-ish shape, though more square and squat. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say a guest dropped it on the rush to escape. 
The fact that it’s still intact though. Nearly glowing with magic, a tremulous feeling under his palms - this is not dropped by some clumsy tourist. Not even Ford could put this together.
 Wiping at the object with his sleeve, Dipper manages to clean off most of the smooth surface. On one of the sides, dust clings to the thinnest of engravings. The very faint outline of an equilateral triangle. No runes or other magical scribing, just… a shape.
Dipper thinks back but - no, he doesn’t remember seeing this in the collection. A quick check online reveals…
Basically nothing. There are - were - a bunch of stone and metal slabs in the archives, all described so poorly as to be useless. Some are even bunched up in groups. ‘Magical slab 1-24’ and ‘Metal artifact 1-78’, no description involved.
Not surprising. Probably dug up in some mass excavation site, transported here, then never really looked at again. The bulk nature of the shipment means it was overlooked, its magical properties never discovered.
After today, he’s just glad that even one item escaped this onslaught. 
The other artifacts must not have had much to them. But some magical property in this artifact’s making must have saved it from the blaze. Fireproofing, perhaps? Against weird fire? That’s unusual. Maybe even unique.
As the only survivor, it really needs investigating. 
Dipper glances over his shoulder, then around. With everyone evacuated, it’s quiet in the rubble. Nobody here would notice if, say… a clue wandered off.
The artifact slips easily into his pocket. The shape conveniently looks just like a phone, even if the shape’s a bit off. Not something that would attract any attention.
Whistling nonchalantly, ducking out of the way of local law enforcement and any onlookers - Dipper makes his escape. 
Another day of pursuit. Another scene of disaster, the culprit there and gone in the blink of an eye. 
He’ll be up to something new, next. Never the same thing twice, never in the same place. 
Dipper will follow in his evil tracks, of course. But for tonight - his fate is another crappy hotel room. 
He ditches his backpack by the door, slumping against the wall and its chipped paint. He could start going through his notes, and the pictures of the arson. Put in more work, find further connections - 
But it’s been a long day, and he’s tired. He might be magical, but he’s only got so much to work with. A reasonable night’s sleep, if he can manage, will make the task loom less horribly over his tired brain.
With a sigh, he drops back on the mattress. There’s some bounce to it, springs squeaking like they’re full of mice. Hell, maybe they are. The type of room he can afford isn’t exactly decadent.
That, though, should be temporary. Dipper’s career is only just starting; freelancers in the ‘solving magical problems’ scene don’t get great rates. Especially as a beginner. Definitely without a partner; it makes him look super young. Like he’s just starting out, fresh-faced and not having any inroads.
Because this field is really stupid, and doesn’t pay attention to results. Dipper’s been fine on his own for years, and he’s done really cool things without that ‘networking’ crap. 
All by himself. Totally cool with that, because Dipper’s a cool guy, sometimes. If Mabel hypes him up enough on one of their phone calls, he almost believes it too.
Though it would be nice to have some backup, it’s hard to find someone who really gets the job. Or does it in the way that Dipper goes about it. The number of people who are willing to take long treks in hyper-magical territory to search for an obscure clue, or set up really complicated traps for  dangerous monsters, or talk over high-level magical theory while sitting in the rain all night just to get one body-snatcher are…
Well, besides Ford, who recently retired, there aren’t any. Only Dipper himself.
One day, things are going to change for him. All his effort will pay off. If he keeps solving mysteries, and fighting monsters, he’ll forge a reputation as someone who always gets the job done. No matter how hard it is, he can handle it. The work is picking up, too. The last six months have shown the biggest series of magical incidents in decades. 
And he’s gonna be the one to get to the bottom of it.
Dipper Pines, the guy who proved it’s all connected. He’ll have it laid out in facts and math, all the evidence. They’re all gonna see that he was totally right.
Once he finally gets this guy, everything’s going to start looking up. 
The sheets rustle as Dipper settles back, holding the artifact up over himself. He stares into the black surface, and a slightly distorted reflection narrows its eyes back at him. 
A good mystery always intrigues him. This one should take his mind off the other, irritating one for a while.
The only remaining object from the fire is clean and smooth. A mysterious creation, of unknown purpose. Clearly riddled with magic, too; Dipper feels it running just under the surface like a rapid current. It gives the artifact a weight that has nothing to do with mass. 
Power.
Did the criminal see this artifact, still intact after all the other magical objects were gone? Did he try to destroy it too, and fail? Or simply not notice he’d missed one out of thousands?
Whatever it is, it’s got a lot more going on than meets the eye.
Dipper casts a quick identifier, which comes back with nothing. He’s not surprised. That’s the first thing anyone would try. If it was that simple, he’d already have the full description off the site. 
With a shrug, he traces another set of runes, his own version, adding a little more oomph behind it - 
And the magic leaps back instantly, with the bizarre sensation of a bouncy ball hitting concrete.
“Huh,” Dipper says, thoughtfully. He sits up, hunching over the slab in his hands. “Now that’s new.”
A more subtle approach, then. Tracing the lines of energy with the barest brush of magic upon magic reveals something deeply complex. Thin layers twist together deep under the surface, building an entire circulatory system. Dipper has to put it down for a moment, suddenly worried that it is organic. 
When a cautious prod doesn’t get a response, he relaxes. Not fleshy, just complicated. Which also proves he was right earlier - the artifact’s just as powerful as he’d thought. The spellcraft is unlike anything he’s ever seen. 
Dipper rubs his hands together, starting to smile. 
Even if he doesn’t find the guy he’s after, figuring this out could be a heck of a win.
Several attempts later, he’s beginning to get why this bastard brick got tossed in with all the other junk. 
Nothing here is working. It simply deflects. Standard spells poing off of it like rubber, while giving his magical senses an odd, back-of-the brain afterimage of a circle with a slash through it; a firm ‘nah’. 
Dipper nearly chucks the thing across the room in frustration, before shutting his eyes and taking several, calming breaths. 
Okay, weird thing, weird enchantment. The ordinary stuff won’t work. The magical logic is… twisted in a way that leaves it incompatible with most everything. He’ll have to find a different approach. 
“What are you?” Dipper says, low and frustrated. He gives the artifact a shake, as if he can knock the secrets out like a rock from a shoe. “What secrets are you hiding in there?” 
No response, not that he expected one. With a wry smile, he taps the sleek surface with a finger, twice. “C’mon, man. Talk to me.” 
Huge yellow letters flash onto the black surface. 
HEY
Dipper throws the artifact, a bit awkwardly since he’s lying on his back. It sails in the air in a high thin arc, landing with a thump between his legs. He scoots rapidly backward, sheets pulling up behind him. 
The artifact lies where it landed, an unmoving brick.  There’s magic in the air now, but no sense of any spell building, ready to unleash power to blow his face off. The latent spellcraft of the artifact has just been activated.
More text displays on the surface, bare except for the glowing letters. 
To the jerk that’s swiped my private stuff: You got some nerve! I expect this back by interdimensional mail in a week, or trust me - there will be consequences.
Dipper waits a full minute before he lets go of the headboard. Tentatively, he kneels near the…
 Is this a phone? 
Clearly it’s a communication device of some sort, with the freaking text messages. A phone is the obvious equivalent, only - he thought it looked far older than that, something way before mobile phones. Possible ancient. Is that a coincidence, maybe, or is it secretly modern?
Dipper taps the ‘screen’, just below the glowing words. To his surprise, there’s actually a keyboard, what the hell. This thing keeps getting weirder.
Since it hasn’t already thrown a horrible curse at him, or burst into flames - it’s reasonably safe to assume that it’s simply ‘on’. Not ‘explosive’. 
With hands that are definitely not shaking, he picks it up, and types,
Who is this? 
His own text pops up in blue. A strange contrast to the yellow, but he’s guessing it’s for convenience - there’s no bubbles to tell who’s said what otherwise.
A few seconds of nervous waiting later, there’s a response. 
Oh hey, you answered! Well, human - You’re talking to the one and only Bill Cipher, Dream Demon, all-powerful master of the Mindscape! I’d say it’s nice to meet ya but you’re not supposed to have a direct line to me!
Dipper raises an eyebrow. 
Now that’s one hell of an introduction. It might even have been interesting, if it didn’t smell of complete bullshit. 
Complicated spellwork, sure. Incomprehensible architecture? Maybe. Dipper can admit it; he’s never seen anything with a web of spells on it this complex, in such small of a package.
But the idea that Dipper just stumbled onto a demonic artifact of all things. One that wasn’t instantly detected, recorded, then ritually destroyed is…
Someone’s fucking with him. 
Dipper rolls his eyes as he types back,
Really? Demon? You can’t expect me to believe that. 
What, you calling me a liar? ‘Cause I am, but not about this! I got better things to mislead mortals about. This is my property, not something for your grubby mortal mitts.
Dipper snorts. Guess this person’s sticking with the bit. Obviously whoever created this would want it back - but too bad. Whether they’re delusional, stupid, or just a flat-out liar, they’re really good at enchanting. It’d be a waste not to study their work. 
He lies back on the bed as he replies.
Sure, have fun roleplaying, or whatever, it doesn’t make a difference. Finders keepers, losers weepers.
ARE YOU CALLING ME A LOSER. MORTAL.
Hmm, I’m detecting a certain amount of ‘crying about it’, so. Yeah. Suck it, loser.
Smirking, Dipper settles back - then his half-smile drops, as he holds the ‘phone’ a little further away from himself. 
Though the blue fire building up in the screen looks like a bad sticker effect, the artifact’s also getting a alarmingly warm. It vibrates in his hands - then suddenly stops, cooling down. 
Ha! Alright, alright, I admit - you got some balls.
Maybe you’ll change your tune once you REALLY know what you’re dealing with! Might wanna check the connection, if you’re even capable of it! Mortal magic doesn’t reach across dimensions!
With a grimace, Dipper taps his fingers on the phone. It’s slightly cooler now, but still worryingly reactive to… whatever happened on the other end. 
Damn. Whoever this is, they’re not only really really good at enchanting, they’re also pretty confident that tracking them down won’t spoil their game. The confidence exuding from this ‘Bill’s’ words feels genuine.
Honestly, though, the suggestion is a good one. Dipper should have tried to trace the call the second he knew someone else was on the line. 
Maybe ‘Bill’ thinks he won’t manage to find him. Joke’s on him, though; Dipper’s amazing at finding stuff. He’s the best tracker of magical anything in years. Maybe decades. With a solid, stable connection right in front of him? Hell, he could do this one in his sleep. 
Time to call the bluff.
He casts the tracing spell, though it takes longer than usual. A few gestures and muttered ritual aren’t gonna cut it; he has to improvise around the strange construction of the enchantment. Even trailing along the magic seems harder than usual, like it resists mixing with his own, and it takes him a few attempts to match the signal. 
Once he finds the right way to tune it… the lead snaps along the already-existing connection, and zips away to find its source.
The line extends out from the shabby hotel room, a plucked string in Dipper’s senses. It twists around the phone, rising slowly. Invisibly passing through the walls and the - 
Ceiling? Dipper looks up on instinct, even though nothing is visible.
From there it swirls around in the air like a silly straw on steroids, and then - out, very far, in a way that isn’t up or down or left or right, just  
Away.
Dipper has to cut off the tracing spell before vertigo has him reeling. The swirling sense of standing on top of a skyscraper is followed by a flip in his stomach. That he’s using a device he barely understands that reaches out into something even more incomprehensible.
He drops the phone-artifact, trying to clear his head by shaking it rapidly. 
That’s not nearby. Not on this planet. Possibly, genuinely, not even in this dimension. 
Shit. Bill wasn’t bluffing.
Dipper wipes sweating palms on the sheets. To pick up the phone again takes an effort, willing himself to grasp it in unsteady hands.
A demon. 
All the monsters he’s fought, curses he’s broken, years of work tucked into his belt, and he’s never seen one of those. 
Demons are dangerous, evil, and very, very powerful. Consorting with them is by all accounts a terrible idea. He should never have picked this up. He should hang up, and throw the damn artifact out the window, hoping that nobody else makes as dumb a mistake as he just did. 
On the screen, there’s a long long scroll of yellow letters, filling the entire surface. ‘HA HA HA HA’ over and over and over again. 
Before he can think better of it, Dipper starts a response. He’s halfway through a sentence - what the fuck, that’s not funny- before he pauses.
Terrible evil monster. Stupid powerful. Probably Bill sensed the tracing of the connection, like he did with Dipper’s other testing. Bill wanted the result startle him. Because he thinks it’s funny.
Dipper grits his teeth, and glares at the screen. 
Actually, screw this guy. Dipper’s keeping the stupid phone. If for no other reason than spite. This ‘Bill’ guy seems pretty full of himself, like he’s totally above some human. He’s in for a bad time, then, because Dipper’s not going to let one little surprise scare him off.
Besides.  The average guy would get into horrible, even deadly trouble, whereas Dipper… sort of knows what he’s doing.  No, he is good at his job. Finding secrets, solving mysteries, thwarting evil jerks who think they’re oh-so-hilarious, the whole shebang. He does it all.
Taking another breath, hissing through clenched teeth - Dipper lets it out. Losing his temper isn’t going to help deal with an extradimensional being. He has to be careful.
He thinks for a long moment before he responds. 
Okay. Let’s say I believe you. Maybe. Then you should know I didn’t steal your… whatever this is. I found it lying around, and I just. Got kind of curious. 
HA HA HA! Of course you were! Careful with that impulse, kid, it kills more than just cats!
A jerk who definitely thinks he’s hilarious. Dipper rolls his eyes, then, rather pettily, decides to ignore that statement. 
More pressing questions take the lead. Like what the fuck he’s holding right now, and if there are any other nasty tricks in store. A little bit of him, bubbling under the surface, wonders what being a demon is like. What they get up to, common habits. Ways they could be tracked down and, y’know, defeated, maybe. 
Theoretically, he’s got a line to a bunch of innocent, totally not-thwarting-related information that could be super useful to someone trying to, maybe, be a super cool monster-fighter.
Dipper backspaces a bunch over some poorly thought out questions. First things first. Like what the hell he’s holding right now.
So. What is this?
Good question! The gadget you’re poking at with your sweaty meat-paws is paired to the one I have here at my place. A little one-on-one communication assistant, if you will. Once you started groping around with your magic, it wasn’t hard to tell someone had picked it up!
Dipper raises an eyebrow. Though he already has an idea… a little confirmation never hurts. 
Like, you got a notification? Or literally felt?
The latter! Kinda like smell, but by touching things with your eyeballs. And with all your prodding around you might as well have been stinking up the place! Your spells aren’t real subtle!
Hey, they’re subtle! Having weird extra senses is just cheating.
Sucks to be human, then! In that you suck at everything! What’s a LOSER like you gonna do about it?
Dipper nearly throws the stupid artifact again - but he holds back, gripping it tight. Instead he sits up, leaning down and hauling his backpack up from the side of the bed. 
Maybe Bill thinks he can’t do anything. That he’s some ignorant nobody, who doesn’t have any real skills or talent or doesn’t have any friends - but he’s got that wrong. Dipper’s not a loser. Bill’s not getting away with that bullshit.
One quick unzip and a bit of rifling around later, he finds what he was looking for. Carefully, Dipper bounces the heft of a flashlight battery in his hand. Shutting his eyes, he focuses on crafting a quick working.
Magic is all about energy, and its direction. Focusing power, conveying it from one place to another. Pushing anything across dimensions would take impossible amounts of energy, stuff Dipper doesn’t have. If it weren’t for a very convenient connection, already in his hand.
Dipper has nothing on hand to actually exorcise the guy - he’s not sure that’s even possible when Bill’s where he should be - but retribution is in order.
More text lines appear on the artifact. He ignores them. Changing this up to work with the demon device is a challenge, but after figuring out how to alter the tracking spell changing this one up isn’t hard. He adjusts the flow of magic this way, into the tangle of not-veins in the device that way, finishes the chant-
Then touches his tongue to the battery.
The jolt passes through him painlessly, following the spell. It zips along his nerves, down into his hand and from there - into the artifact itself. 
Where it should, theoretically end up right at that bastard.
Dipper tosses the battery back into his backpack. Picking up the ‘phone’, hunching over to stare at the screen. 
That worked. He felt the energy move… unless he got the math wrong. Or a detail of his spell. Or maybe demons are immune to electricity, and he just did something totally pointless. 
God. It might even prove Bill right, and wouldn’t that be the worst - 
The next line of text comes in. 
What the hell? A joy buzzer? That’s some real petty prank stuff! You seriously pulled that bullshit? And across dimensions?
A tense pause. Dipper taps the phone, checking for it heating up again - but another line pops up after a few seconds.
Y’know what, kid? I think I might actually like you! You’re FEISTY.
Dipper nearly does a double-take. 
But no, that - what? Aren’t demons supposed to be vengeful? He was half-sure he’d have to chuck the phone out the window before it exploded in his hands. 
In fact, you’re in luck! ‘Cause I’m pretty bored, and I can totally show you how to improve that jinx of yours! If you can keep up with a little theory, that is.
Because that’s not suspicious or anything. Conversation with a demon can only lead to ruin and disaster. He should absolutely, definitely stop this right in its tracks.
Still, Dipper shrugs, and types, 
Try me.
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signanothername · 2 months ago
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Environment practice
Kinda just how i think Killer’s room would look like (a lil bit hdfhfjfj) but also just me messing around
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raven · 10 months ago
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red-moon-at-night · 27 days ago
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okay the whole vase is great but something about Helen sitting on Aphrodite's lap as she wraps one arm around her shoulder and brushes her leg with her hand, staring into her eyes like that... as she is persuading Helen to go with Paris (while Peitho aka persuasion stands behind them) is so incredibly iconic.
and gay. toxic yuri, if you will.
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sevenines · 2 months ago
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i saw this tweet and found it interesting for two reasons. one is that some people base how good cartoon network would be to toh by how it treated su, and despite the fact that su’s treatment by the network was considered poor at the time, now its thought to be exceptionally good in comparison to modern shows.
two is how exactly su got impacted by a limited budget. a common criticism is how characters like connie, peridot, and lapis are left out of missions. but balancing a lot of characters is not only hard but also costly (extra animation, extra voices—it’s been revealed that the show is limited to a set number of characters per episode otherwise they’re over budget). animation mistakes are not uncommon since retakes cost extra. the entire reason the original show got cut short was due to loss of funding!
#i don’t know if pay rates differ per networks#but a.ivi and s.urrashu have said that they needed to work outside of su in order to make sufficient funds#it only makes me wonder what other ways su suffered from a lower budget#that we as the audience never got to see#in the vein of the too-little characters complaint#another part of that is that low-stakes episodes should’ve been abt the main cast instead of the townies#like last one out of beach city and too short to ride vs restaurant wars and kiki’s pizza delivery service#i definitely see that especially since that isn’t budget related#nor would it seem to be network related (even if cn had an ‘episodic episodes’ quota it could still be abt the gems#(another side note: /would/ cn even have a requirement that the show make episodes that can be watched standalone?#this is a question for the people who were around when su was airing#what episodes often got rerun?#was it the townie eps or the lore eps?#for example i heard that su once did a ‘peridot event’ where they just reran peridot episodes#which had eps that skip around in the show#did they even care about airing the story so that it made sense anyways?#id get it if the low stakes townie episodes were the ones getting rerun))#but i have such a boring view on that which is i think it’s simply because the creators like townie eps#like in interviews r.ebecca s.ugar has said she’s the type to be really invested in background characters#answers in interviews have been crafted in ways to hide what’s really going on though tbf#prime example of this is rebecca and ian saying the wedding being interrupted was meant to follow the common trope#when later in the art book they said that it was bc cn rejected the ep bc it ‘wasn’t interesting enough’#both could simultaneously be true! it’s a psychology thing though where people make up nice-sounding explanations behind what they create#in retrospect because they want it to be thought out in such a nice way they believe in it#the bigger problem is that not matter how many episodes there are of them#it can be hard for ppl to be invested in the townies the same way they are invested in the main cast#i’m sure that a million writers have made surefire advice on how to get an audience to care about characters#but off the top of my head i think it’s because 1. most don’t have strong motivations to get truly invested in#(exception is ronaldo but people find him too annoying to care about him)#okay i had more points and explanations but i hit the tag limit and idk if anyone is actually reading this so bye
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