#Coaxoch

[disaster-coyotes]

Two tanks, having sex Two tanks, having sex My muscles, my muscles

Felt like drawing Coaxoch and Gunvor.

[memetrash-coyote]

TFW everyone in the polycule wants to hold hands.

Made this mainly so that the polyarmory playlist had a cover. I'm very pleased with it as it let me go into more detail on some armor pieces (even though I wasn't planning to) which is a rarity.

[h0nk]

Coa ruin my life please [Support me on Patreon]

[bommel-tabletop]

Good afternoon everyone,

I'm taking a short break from the containers since I've kinda burned out doing all that chipping, though the 3 blue/orange ones are done and hopefully the others are going faster once I return since they're all one color

Either way this is my little in between project which I censored a little since I'm not sure tumblr would be ok with this? Base colors are all on already and first layers on scales and skin are done so far

Still plenty to do, but I think I got a vision where I wanna go with it for now so that's why I thought I'd post a WIP shot :D

[brooklynislandgirl]

@kylo-wrecked {{swimming lessons}}

His words haunt. Not moreso than the look of guilty non-existence that glitters in his eyes each and every time she looks upon him. As if no single ounce of her warmth and welcome can penetrate the armour The Little One has given him in place of what was once living flesh. Ben does not yet need a rebreather. His long and thin limbs are still his own but they are all mechanical movement. If she were to close her eyes, she could imagine the hum of energy through wire, a staccato pumping of fluids rather than blood from his heart. Oh how the hate taints even her dreams. She does. Hates all of them who have done this. The younglings. Their master. How history repeats itself the same as the nature that surrounds herself and the boy. But though she sees so much of Anakin in him, she will sooner join her Za'lali in death ere she lets his fate befall Ben. She watches Coaxoch, her favourite of her her cultivated hawkwasps, test footing on the boy's sleeve. How its stamens quiver and pollen sprinkles on Ben's boots. On the ground between them. Goes dancing in the air currents to be carried back toward the cage. It is an earthy smell, a little musty and a little sweet. It is an acceptance though afterwards it returns to her shoulder, where from her pail she produces a bloody chunk of flesh that it immediately begins to devour. The sight is not pleasant. Not pretty. In time, it will become something Ben remembers. Her clean hand rises. Caught in the morning sun, it carries a faint green tinge. She wonders yet if he has discovered her people's most guarded secret and if he has not, that too will come in time. He is now and thereafter, one and the same as she. A noble scion of a great house. Destined to perhaps become the culmination of everything his grandfather would have become. Greater. Worlds will hush when his name is spoken. People will know. They will see the depth of the goodness and the justness of his heart. She feels in in her soul, in the living Force itself. Her knuckles brush the shadow beneath his chin. Follows that bone to its terminus. "And where, my child, does yours hide?"

[anthropolite]

Okay! Following this up: a starting god has: Three Skills; these describe the capabilities and characteristics of your god. They indicate what your god can do and what they might do. I can see through any drawing of an eye, blood empowers me, I know how to brew, I command the winds, or I can talk my way out of any situation are all acceptable Skills. When a Prompt indicates to create a new Skill, you should relate it to the content of the Myth you are writing for that Prompt. Some Prompts will instruct you to check or lose a Skill. To check a Skill, place a checkmark next to that Skill on your record. Mechanically, this indicates that the Skill has been used. Narratively, a checked Skill gives you something to flavor your answers to later Prompts. If unchecked Skills are what your god is capable of, checked Skills are what they have done.

Three Relics; these are items, places, structures, and even organizations related to your god. A sword whose blade seems to be made of silver, a golden tiara with three stars, an order of knights that fight in my name, or even the first shrine built to adore me, are all acceptable and engaging Relics. Relics vary drastically in origin. They could be things you crafted, things that other supernatural entities gifted you, or offerings from your faithful. Some relics may be infused with powers associated with you, but this does not always have to be the case. In the Prompts, there will be some occasional references to stationary Relics. These are things that cannot be physically moved. Examples might be a sacred mountain where people hold rituals associated with me, a colossal statue of myself, or a palace on the top of a tor, where I live.

Three Characters; these are intelligent beings with whom your god has a connection. Each Character should be named and described in a sentence fragment, such as: Coaxoch, Serpent Flower, an orphan girl that prays to me every day. Add more descriptors each time you interact with them in the course of resolving a Prompt. Coaxoch, from the previous example, might become: Coaxoch, Serpent Flower, an orphan girl that prays to me every day. Seeing that, despite the hardships of her life, she never gives up reminds me of the strength of mortals; I will answer her prayers. If it makes sense to include a Character when resolving a Prompt, do so even if the Prompt doesn’t tell you to include a Character. In addition, create a new Character if a Prompt instructs you to include one, but none are available.

And one Myth in each of their five Sagas. A Myth should be a single evocative sentence. A Myth is the distillation of an event, a single sentence that combines what happened and why it matters to your god. A good format for a Myth is “[description of the event]; [how I feel or what I did about it].” Sagas are made up of Myths. A Saga is a section of your record that contains up to three Myths. Myths are not necessarily linear or chronological. If a new Myth clearly belongs within an existing Saga, you can add it to that Saga. If not, record the Myth in a new Saga, which may require forgetting an earlier Saga. A Saga is a container for Myths related in some way. A Saga contains up to three Myths. Your god is allowed five Sagas. Older Sagas are lost when new Myths occur and you have no place to put them. If you have filled all five Sagas and need to start a new one, strike out an existing Saga and all the Myths it contains. Changing as the Myths related to your god change or are forgotten is a fundamental mechanic of the game. I'll be keeping this post as-is as a record of this starting point, and using the next as a living record, to be updated as we go. So: Skills I can turn people to stone with but a glance. I am a talented artist. I am a Haliad: water is no obstacle to me, and I can calm or whip up the seas as I see fit. Relics A statue carved by the master-sculptor Praxiteles. An ancient shrine, where I was cursed. (stationary) A pond or fountain, whose waters lead directly to the bottom of the Mediterranean (disconcertingly not stationary) Characters Medusa, my sister. Cursed and then murdered at the whims of Athena. (Immortal) Stheno, my sister. Strong, loyal, and very much cursed. I trust her with my life. (Immortal) Athena, once my patroness. I served loyally at her shrine, and she betrayed my loyalty in the most dramatic way possible. (Immortal) Saga 1 My sisters and I were cursed by Athena, giving us petrifying gaze and snaky locks. Saga 2 Medusa was murdered by a champion sent by Athena; I curse myself for having ever trusted her. Saga 3 Wherever Medusa's blood touched the earth, serpents formed. Saga 4 Athena, patroness of the arts, invented the flute in the attempt to mock my voice: she threw it away on seeing that it made her face look fat. Saga 5 Athena claims the title of guardian of cities; I know that such hubris shall be her undoing.

Hey all! So, I recently got my hands on a copy of Tales from the Gods by AxoStories, a kind of storytelling/worldbuilding game which uses semi-random prompts to chart the tale of a god over many centuries of existence. Would you be interested in seeing a play-through (with Yali in the starring role, naturally) on Tumblr? If so, give this post a like!

[ask-espe]

The spe that gave me the first push in my adventure, since its the Espeon's day i wanted to cherish the ones who have inspired me to get where I am now~

I" don't intend on stopping, not on my watch"

[disaster-coyotes]

B: (with the previous polyarmory piece) "this is how you tank for the warlock, right?"

Me: "yeah, n Coaxoch and Iolanthe are busy 'tanking' for Roxanne"

[askwitcheon]

[bommel-tabletop]

Coaxoch is finished and photos are taken, very fun mini to paint and I had a chance to try out a bunch of new things, some of which went better than others, but I like how everything turned out in the end

I read up a bit on the guidlines and I think it should be ok to post this as long as I flag it mature, so here's the spinny vid as well:

[lildinoart]

When in harmony the power of the other became theirs to control.

Is this symbolism or something else.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Who knows? will i know but that beside the point.

Bonus Picture cause i like both of them

[singingvio]

Every single time I draw this kid the details change ever so slightly.

[kylo-wrecked]

The boy watches her leave, watches her sylphic wrist lift from her pooling shroud. He watches blood lapped away by fount and feels its kiss. She doesn't truly turn her back or withdraw her hand. She still travels with him, a vital awareness even at this trivial distance. He watches, and he listens. Coaxoch sounds no different behind the cage. His... grandmother's... heart is no different behind its own. And so different from his. Yet, his stills. At last, it stills.

"A dream," he remarks simply upon the stage of Melakeni's avowal. Quietly and lucidly. He is all eyes, and at this age, he has already abandoned dreams, as he has few other things.

He would not go back to Luke. Of that certainty, this leaning willow is rooted. Lifts neither brow nor shoulder, no ranged limb to acknowledge his decision. Melakeni will know when she takes his hand. 

Ben's gaze falls at the touch. Skin, sliver to sliver. Then, the soft, still cavity. A cloud crosses his face, deeper and darker than his air of discomposure at the hawkwasp's meal. 

Was he to be raised properly, then? As close as one could get? Was he to be loved? Would that love snuff him out? Would it make him suffer? Would it make him empty?

"You imply something would be different..." He hesitates again, and how grave his hesitance is. How grave his softly hewn face, grave as his eyes are large. "If I belonged to you, blood to blood. What would that mean?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Closes his eyes so that he may remain open. 

"What is Za'lali?" 

He registers an impression of this sliver and that he must know it as if it were a cut in his palm, a long scar on its supple face.

@brooklynislandgirl

Wisdom blooms between the thin lines of his face. Dismay or at least worry also lodges in his gaze, turned inward as it does so often, she has come to notice. Malaise of spirit wounds her for she has no way to lift him up from that inner unhappiness. It will take time for him to adjust. To realise she is no enemy at his gate but rather a boon companion, perhaps the staunchest he will accrue. Her nails draw no blood from slitted skin, the only outward sign left behind in the caress of his cheek bone with her thumb before she drops away. Returns her pet to its nesting hutch and closing the cage before dredging blood hand in a trough of water mounted on the outer slats of wood. Crimson spirals out into the water and he cannot see the look of careworn grief that clouds across her features. The sweet child need not know the heavy burdens she carries between slender shoulders. The litany of names and memories from her own childhood, all lost now. All become legend and myth rather than living beings. Their stories twisted to fit the current narrative. She blinks once, twice. Calcifies in her own skin. His tongue hesitates, as if it were more customarily savage himself than admit that he sees any quality in himself that she might consider him valuable beyond simply existing. And it is with that same gentle brutality that she chooses to answer him in full honesty. "In some other life, beyond the stars you have studied and know the way you know ground beneath your feet, air that you breath, fire that warms you and cooks your food, water that quenches your thirst and cleanses you…in some other universe…another time and place, you might have belonged to me, blood to blood. Your mother, your uncle might have been my children, raised properly the way my fathers both raised me. And that this is an impossible thing…a dream that dances only when my eyes close when my body seeks rest, the love and care I bear you is still as ardent. I could hear your spirit in the Force, shrieking into a void, Ben. You haunted my solitude until I could think of nothing but finding you. Sparing the grief, the pain I taste in the back of my throat." She does not tell him of that bitter otherness that chokes her more surely than Ben could. An echo of acrimony for all life that taints even the brilliant memories she possesses. "You are the last of my Za'lali," she does not bother to translate the word. She turns and crouches, her robes pooling around her and looks up into his face. She takes hold of one of his hands and flattens it out before she holds it to a sliver of skin. Beneath his palm is soft flesh. Harder bone or close enough. What lacks is the tell-tale trace of a living heart. "Here you have always lived. It simply took time to find you, and I hope, in the fullness of time, you will know my regret for that, and forgive me." A moment passes. "Are you...unhappy...here? Would you wish that I return you to Luke?"

[ninjakitten1699]

24. Chasing that red laser dot everyone likes

It took me a moment to remember who she was. This is Coaxoch, Halcyon’s granddaughter and one of Tezca’s and Karma’s snakelets.

[ask-espe]

@askwitcheon and their precious witch spe named Coaxoch, give them some love they deserve!

[disaster-coyotes]

What if I just draw the entire polyarmory and add little ties to each other