#Craft Projects with Pebbles

[waterbeads1993]

Unveiling Elegance: 15 Hidden Marvels of BUM BUM BHOLE 10Kg Multicolour Pebbles for Garden and Home Decor Bliss!

Learn About Water Beads

FAQs About BUM BUM BHOLE 10Kg Multicolour Pebbles

[mewguca]

Shame

this is a rather personal piece; it's primarily based on my own struggles

It probably could've been executed better (like having more of the interaction she's agonizing over), but I really wanted to focus on that visceral reaction of shame, guilt, and self-criticism

here's a long ramble I wrote while starting this ...

I realize, perhaps much of the reason certain depictions of moon trigger me so much is due to my own overwhelming shame and guilt. It's a defense mechanism crafted because I yet lack the strength to accept myself. I suppose that's why characters like Five Pebbles are so appealing to me — he is someone I've given the room to express his faults, his flaws, his hatred, his despair, his pain, and all his imperfections... For him to be mean or angry is natural and expected, so it's not as scary to express my negative feelings with him as the instrument. He's not a "good person", after all, so it's fine if he is "bad." His standards aren't as high.

Conversely, because I idealize LTTM so much and connect her to myself, I deny her the same things I deny myself. I do it without even thinking, really...

I've often thought, "but this sort of emotion doesn't really suit her... isn't this sort of projection too self-indulgent? If I made this, it'd be too obvious that my own emotions are bleeding through onto the canvas..."

So, I wonder if she's experienced that same sort of emotional repression. It'd be cathartic, in an unfortunate way. To see someone else struggle to grapple with such things, because they want to be pure and virtuous and not upset others...

It's harder when you spend so much time shaping that perfect, faultless, virtuous sort of image, especially when you do it reflexively. Unconsciously. You're making the pressure for yourself worse, but you can't stop... I'm actually not a very friendly person. I'm actually quite afraid and irritable, and I push people away when they get too close. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't want anyone to hate me... I don't want to cause suffering or strife. Sometimes, I wish I could just be a completely passive observer.

But I suppose I'm a human being instead, so I have to accept that. Thanks for reading, I guess. I'm not really looking for emotional support here... I just want to be understood.

[oldschoolfrp]

I completed the fantasy barn based on the "Modelling Workshop" article in White Dwarf 140, August 1991. The structure is foamcore covered with craft wood sticks and coffee stirrers, based on matboard with sand and pebbles, painted with inexpensive craft paints. To keep with the 1991 theme I used simple wood turned barrels from a craft store and carved some lines to suggest staves, instead of using 3D printed models. The basing includes the same types of Woodland Scenics ground foam flocking I would have used in 1991. My one concession to more modern materials was to add a variety of premade static grass tufts.

This project started as a community challenge from the Summon Lesser Maker channel, one of the YouTubers keeping Mordheim alive online.

[lilianasgrimoire]

Witches & Witchcraft: Types & Definitions

There is an abundance of types of witches, some being more common than others, for example, death witch or hedge witch. I have provided the different types of witches with a brief description/definition of what they study, believe and tools most commonly used for each.

The types of witchcraft is entirely up to the individual which they prefer to do. One person may only follow on type of magick whereas another may follow several. Listed are a handful of the many kinds, but I'm listing the most common/known types of magick/witchcraft that people fall into.

I have grouped some witches together as they fit together under the same or similar definitions.

Types of Witches

Religious witches;

Christian, Satanic (Theistic), Laveyan Satanic, Hellenic, Celtic and Wiccan, etc. are witches that follow a primary belief system and incorporate their religion into the craft.

Non-Religious witches;

Secular - doesn't work with [a] deity(ies).

Science - (also a craft type), uses metaphysical and scientific fads and theories mixed together.

Other types of witches;

Solitary - works alone and is not part of a coven. Won't typically work with other witches for spell work or any part of their practice.

Eclectic - a practice that includes multiple practises from different areas. A mixture of all practices, may practise one more than another, or all equally.

Hereditary/Generational - a witch who is born into a family whom practice the craft. The term 'Blood witch' is often a hot topic of controversy as to whether it makes one a more powerful witch.

Traditional - a type that is based on honouring the traditional ways of magick, which also ties in nicely with generational/hereditary witches.

Chaotic/Chaos - a witch who utilizes new, non-traditional and unorthodox methods. It's still relatively new and highly individualistic practice while still drawing from common forms of magick.

Types of Witchcraft/Magick

Green Witch; A witch who uses natural magick, such as creating blends of different plants, or primarily using herbs and/or crystals spells in their craft. Tools mostly consist of herbs, crystals, stones, flowers, soil or other greenery.

Hedge Witch; Also know as an astral witch, this type of magick is orientated around spiritual work such as astral projection, lucid dreaming, spirit work, healing and out-of-body magick. Tools mostly consist tarot cards, runes, pendulum, stones, crystal ball, mirrors & candles.

Dream Witch; Mindful and internal magickal practice mainly based from interpreting dreams and/or engaging in lucid dreaming. Practises used to 'de-code' symbols and messages in the dream world can be used similarly to how one would use divination techniques. Tools mostly consist of dream catchers, candles, books of glossaries of symbols.

Sea/Ocean; Derived from materials and abstract ideas involving ocean and the oceanic world. Sea or ocean magick can be worked with by using things found on or relating to a beach/lagoon. A sea witch might draw their energy from such tools. Tools commonly consist of driftwood, pebbles/stones, seashells, ocean water, bones, seaweed, candles.

Storm/Weather; magick used through combining one's energy with the weather; most commonly rain. Weather witches will collect different ingredients provided by the weather, absorb energy from storms, manipulate winnds, or perhaps predict the weather. Tools most commonly consist of rain/snow water, symbols/weather maps, crystals.

Cottage/Hearth; Magick that is weaved and worked or embedded into mundane tasks around the house or for loved ones. Cottage magick is usually worked into cleaning, hobbies or cooking. Tools commonly consist of essential oils, incense, bells, flowers, cleaning utensils, spices and herbs.

Tea Witch; Creating blends of teas for protection, remedies or even to use for tea-leaf divination. Tools commonly consist of tea, herbs, waters, spices.

Tech Witch; Use of technology in the craft, mostly based through phones or computers. Mostly used for storing of information, grimoires, spell books and Book of Shadows/diaries. Tools consist of apps on the phone, digital sigils, online blogs and pages.

Garden/Flora; Mostly (if not all) focused on herbal and botanical measures. Many garden witches have their own garden and plant flowers and herbs to draw in energy for their home and to include in rituals and spells. Tools commonly consist of flowers, soil, seeds, greenery, twigs/tree branches, leaves.

Elemental; Using all 4 (or 5) elements in an honouring or acknowledging form. A witch can choose to work with all, or singular elements. One may have a dedicated area on their alters to a particular elements. Tools consist of anything related to said element.

Faery/Fae; Magick for those who communicate with, and/or work with the Fae. Those whom work with fae may also leave offerings regularly as thanks for the assistance of a faery in their spell work. Tools commonly consist of anything sweet, sigils, offerings.

Spirit; A practice which an individual will perform spell work in conjunction with (or the help of) any manner of spirit, including Ouija, demon spirits, spiritual contact of any kind, working with ancestors. Tools commonly consist of crystals, bells, incense, Ouija boards, tarot cards, pendulums, sigils.

Draconian: The use of dragons and dragon imagery; whether it be trough astral matters or in spells and rituals. May also be connected with dragon spirits on their journey. Tools commonly consist of dragons art, statues, candles.

Seasonal; Utilizing and drawing energy from specific time periods of the year for their magick. One individual may feel more powerful at a particular time of year. It can also be spread out into the 4 seasons. Tools commonly consist of herbs related to certain seasons, stones, ruins and the weather.

Music; Can be through singing, humming, playing an instrument, creating music or having it on during spell work to add energies. Tools consist of speakers, instruments, voice, chimes, lyrics & sheet music.

Art & Craft; Anything from painting to knitting to building something. Tools consist of anything you can craft with.

Sigils; Working majorly with sigils and the intent that can be put into them to activate their power. Tools commonly used are pens, paper, makeup, candles.

Astronomy/Space/Luna; Correlates their belief in conjunction with the planets, stars and/or moon. Versed in moon phases and tend to do spell work at night rather than day time. Tools commonly used are horoscopes, calendars, charts, moonlight, moon water.

Energy; Those who prefer to do magick through energy exercises and manipulation rather than many physical tools or materials. This may also include aura work. The only tools needed for this type is yourself.

Crystal; Magick that is worked commonly with stones and crystals. The practise may include chakra balancing, crystal meditation and even spell work or rituals. Extensive knowledge of stone, including how to identify them. Tools most commonly used are crystals, books, grimoires and stones.

Literacy; Those who practise through books and literature - studying the craft after the 'beginner' phase of learning. Tools are books, poems, written work.

[mc-revived]

Okay, but isn’t it fucked up that the ancients made puppets for iterators?

There’s some oc ideas bulleted for you guys ;)

Iterators are more that their puppets, they are their cans. However as we see in the game, as Moon and Pebbles deteriorate, one of the few connections they can maintain is with their puppets.

The ancients essentially gave godlike supercomputers a form to project themselves onto, to help them form their own sense of identity.

What were their motivations for this? To create a recognizable “mascot” for ancients in the city? Considering the existence of advertisements in pebble’s city, the iterators could have been used on the face of advertisements.

But really, there is no technological reason to have given them puppets. Yet in doing so they have a proper “body.” We as humans attach a lot of our identity to our physical form, which is why we have dysphoria or dysmorphia if there is a disconnect.

So is it a blessing or a curse that iterators were given a form to project themselves onto, allowing them to more easily explore their sense of self?

It seems cruel that ancients crafted these puppets to be tethered to a chamber, a chamber hidden deep within their superstructures away from the world outside. So while they do have a body to project themselves onto, they can’t commune face to face with the outside world.

These iterators develop whole ass personalities while being reduced to their computations for eternity. They aren’t truly allowed to to be living yet have the capacity to form meaningful relationships. What were the ancients thinking??That’s some insane torment.

I want to see iterator puppets explored more. Like:

Why did the ancients create puppets?

Were iterators able to make requests to alter their puppets?

How is an iterator’s sense of self affected if they were never given a puppet to project onto?

Were newer iterators sometimes given the puppets of older (maybe discontinued) iterators? And did they consequently feel their identity tied to that iterator?

What are the iterators opinions of having puppets?

Do some iterators not use their puppets because they don’t see the point?

I’ve also seen some cool ocs where iterator puppets are designed to leave their cans! So for those with this type of oc:

What are other iterators’ opinions about this. Do they feel envy?

How strong are these iterators’ connection to their can? And are they much more “themselves” since they are given the opportunity to roam and create new experiences?

Do they visit other iterators, and if so do they visit the can or their puppets?

Do they collect scraps on their travels to modify their appearance? Do they run similar errands for other iterators?

Do these iterators ever choose to wander the empty cities atop their cans, now devoid of ancients? (angst angst angst)

Were their puppets always mobile? If so, how were their interactions with the ancients while they were alive?

And that’s all for now! I’d love to see if anyone has more ideas to spitball.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1936 Bugatti T57S Atlantic Coupe

The third of four Atlantic coupes built by Jean Bugatti, this one is famously known for having been hit by a train at a railroad crossing in the French countryside in 1955. Much has been written regarding this car's authenticity, and it is true that not every panel is original. Yet before that tragedy this car had experienced a storied and historically important life. Many a race car has been saved from the scrap heap because it had a unique provenance. This car was worth preserving for its unique beauty alone, as well as for the same reasons that any unique historical object is saved: to continue its history, to honor the craft of the original builders, and to illustrate it's story to those who may not already know it.

This car is uniquely different from the other Atlantics as it had been restyled soon after it was built. The evidence indicates that the styling changes had been commissioned by the car's original owners and completed by renowned coachbuilder Joseph Figoni, who had his own singular ideas about flowing surfaces and shape.

The first owners, Jacques and Yvonne Holtzschuch, took delivery of 57473 in 1936. In the earliest known photograph of the car, taken at the Concours d'Elegance de Juan les Pins in 1937, the body was black with a light beige pigskin interior. In the next known photograph, taken in 1951 at the Circuit International de Vitesse de Nice, the body and interior had been significantly restyled. In order to participate in the race, the body had also been repainted blue in accordance with the Code Sportif International de la F.I.A. After changing hands several times, the car was eventually purchased in 1952 by René Chatard, who had it repainted gray near the end of 1954. Chatard and a female companion were driving near Gien, France when they were struck and killed by a train on August 22, 1955.

Paul-André Berson recovered the remains in 1965, and started a decade-long project to rebuild the car. In the restoration he chose to work with the intact right-hand coachwork, and replaced the damaged parts. Upon completion in 1977, he sold the car to collector Nicholas Seydoux, who later had it restored again by André Lecoq. In 2006 the current owner purchased the car from Seydoux, and the unused dashboard, trim pieces, engine block, mechanical parts and original damaged body panels from Berson.

The car was then on display at the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance, the perfect environment for the world to rediscover this very special car.

[buttermander]

Buttermander's Craft Sibling Headcanon Masterpost

Goob and Scraps are two of my fav toons and now I'm going to unleash my headcanons so everyone can use them.

Goob's fur will stand on end if you startle or or scare him. It looks ridiculous to behold

When she was first made Scraps had a habit of investigating random inanimate objects around Gardenview by clawing them

If presented with cardboard boxes the craft siblings will attempt to fit themselves into them due to instincts they claim they cannot control.

Scraps enjoys all sorts of arts and crafts projects in her spare time, although having claws means she has to be extremely careful to not tear things up on accident.

Given that goob's hands seem too heavy for him and his arms are literal cables, it is likely Deliliah Keen had to get specially made artifical arms for the craft

Goob originally spent several weeks with no arms after he was made until he was considered healthy enough to get the custom set attached to his body.

Adding onto the previous Headcanon Shelly gave Goob the nickname " G. Rex " during this time.

Goob and Scraps cannot resist the call of the ALMIGHTY RED DOT ( a laser pointer )

Both of the craft siblings are capable of purring when happy and it's adorable.

Scraps has to ensure her brother doesn't ingest too much caffeine in one sitting or else he will go nuts and his arms will get caught in everything in his warpath.

Trace amounts of DNA of actual house cats were used in the creation process of the siblings. Goob lacks a tail due to the Manx breed being his genetic source. Scraps meanwhile, has the genetic material component of a Domestic Shorthair. Only around 15 percent cat DNA makes up the crafts.

Without regular maintenance the craft siblings' claws can become " deadly weapons "

Goob and Pebble actually get along pretty well since the rock dog knows he can get a lot of attention from the younger of the two siblings

Goob used to have biting related issues that got worked out with time

Shrimpo can only really mess with Goob when Scraps is occupied because if he tries it she WILL claw his face.

Goob's fur has historically been a nightmare to maintain. Its required weekly brushing and he constantly ends up getting crumbs caught on his own fluff, especially in the large tuft around his neck.

Scraps' tail will wag around at hyper speed if she's really excited about something, the paper cup will make a lot of noise if she's standing near something by while doing this.

The siblings really enjoy the taste of fish, when Gardenview was still open sometimes they were caught raiding the freezer for an entire box of fish sticks.

Scraps has an entire hidden stash of yarn balls in the siblings' shared room, even if you manage to clear out her side of the room it's going to be covered in yarn again in a matter of minutes.

If you want more headcanons tell me what toon I should do next in the replies, I got some fun ones lying around. I just started with these two because they're my favorites. Also let me know which of my headcanons are your favorites I wanna know which ones the public likes the most.

[charming-fawn]

tips

Your Space Fill your room with vintage finds, fairy lights, and plants to create a cozy, whimsical atmosphere.

Nature Walks: Spend time in nature, collecting pretty leaves, flowers, or pebbles to remind yourself of the beauty around you.

Crafting Joy: Try your hand at DIY projects! Making your own accessories or art can be a fulfilling way to express your creativity!!

Capture Moments: Keep a journal or scrapbook where you can jot down your thoughts, dreams, and memories, decorated with cute stickers and drawings.

Dress in Color: embrace soft pastels, florals, and patterns that make you feel joyful and reflect your personality

[lyss-butterscotch]

au lore facts?

Moon has good aim but can't catch batflies

Pebbles taught arti how to craft electric spears

Sig's garden project is him developing plants that can witstand the rain

Suns' territory is near an active volcano

UI's can is half dissolved because of acid

Wind is a cleanfreak

Sliver's territory is an ecological deadzone

[ariadne-mouse]

So with Mercaleb being over for a while now, I’ve felt a bit bereft as an author and found myself working on my next project pretty quickly.  I wanted to explore the wizards through a different lens, as I do, but with Caleb once again taking the form of the Other contrasted to Essek.  Mercaleb, Volcaleb — this is definitely one of my jams.  I hope you will enjoy the start of something new!

The title is from William Cullen Bryant's A Forest Hymn.

(~1400 word snippet, shadowgast, rated G for now)

.

the groves were god's first temples

The night was dark, and the windows of Essek’s office were speckled with water droplets, each pane a portrait of the rain’s ever-changing visage as it peered in at the room’s lone occupant.

Essek of Den Thelyss worked by candlelight, and by magelight, comfortable with the dark and yet preferring illumination as he bent to his studious labors: a spell theorem that could unlock a new sub-branch of dunamancy.  A fire in the hearth warmed his back.  A cup of tea steamed at his elbow, hot only due to refreshments of Prestidigitation.  Essek had not arisen from his chair in several hours.

“It’s really quite simple,” Essek said aloud, tone edged in frustration. “I don’t see why you must persist in seeking complications.”

For Essek was not truly alone, whatever it might appear to an outside observer.  He was never alone here in the study, the sanctum sanctorum of his tower.

“Let us begin again,” he continued. “Beginning with the Principle of Infinite Division, which is the concept that there are a limitless number of divergences from any given point in time, and thus the isolation of a single timeline thread in continuity carries with it the complications of having to specify infinite selections within an infinite number possibilities.”

He paused, letting the words sink in.

The potted plant on his desk listened serenely, the green faces of each leaf gleaming handsomely.  This was a being of the sunlit hours, displaced in the eternal darkness of Rosohna, requiring specialized care and constant light.  A mark of status.  But for Essek, it was someone to talk to.  

Well — something.  Of course.

Merely something.

It didn’t feel that way, though; it was the strangest phenomenon.  It felt as though his words were being heard, and understood.

He had dreams, sometimes, where it answered him.

Essek cleared his throat.  “As you can surmise, this represents a challenge if you wish to locate a specific timeline in its entirety.  Now, if I can craft a formulaic element to the incantation or inscription — a repeatable recipe, if you will — I could solve the selection process without having to account for each of these divisions individually.  Namely, by identifying a unique signature that is ascribable to multiple points within it—”  He trailed off, and sighed.  “I’ve lost you again, haven’t I.  Here, let me better illuminate you.”

He beckoned several magelights — amber-colored, as the last afternoon sun — to hover closer to it, lips quirking wryly at his own joke.  

Was it his imagination, or did the leaves turn to seek the light?

“You are very patient with me,” Essek said.  “I have been preaching to you all day, and still you endure it.  I know what I mean, but when I say it aloud, I hear all the faults of each idea.”  

The tree rustled, as if to reassure him.  

It was probably just his sleeve brushing the branches — almost assuredly — almost — but he nodded in acknowledgement, feeling touched and a little chagrined.  “I know, I know.  It takes time.  You are constantly teaching me this.”

Carefully he tested the top of the plant’s pebbled soil with his fingertips, and then lifted the container from its dish to see its base, and found no chill of moisture in the sturdy clay. 

“Ah!  I am neglecting you, as well.  I am sorry.”

The remnant of his tea, made cold with the wave of a hand, went into the pot.

Essek leaned on his palm, maudlin.  “My theorem is a bit like you.  It started small and unrestrained, and over time has grown and been pruned and trained and refined until it is something worth looking at.  An elegant echo in miniature of a larger concept.  Or at least, that is what it is supposed to become.  I wonder, is there a Dwendalian tree somewhere in the Empire that looks like you, but as tall as a tower?”

It truly was a beautiful thing, a tree tricked by skilled gardeners into staying absurdly small, and yet lasting centuries, turning colors or bearing fruit as a full-sized tree might.  It was currently fashionable for Kryn nobility to own at least one.  His mother had a garden full.

“Maybe I’m wasting my time,” Essek sighed, rotating the pot with restless fingers, a centimeter at a time.  The tree was lovely from every angle.  “Maybe I am all tangled up in my own ideas, roots snarled together, strangling my own progression.  Maybe I’m not a prodigy after all, and my critics are right about me.  Maybe— oh!”

A bright crimson-orange flower had interrupted his vision of greenery.  Diminutive but striking, its petals were ruffled in an imitation of flame.  Had it been there before?  

Essek dared to touch the bloom and found it whisper-soft.  “Is this for me?”  He smiled and looked down at the desk. “Thank you.”

He didn’t let himself be vulnerable in public, especially not with his peers at the Marble Tomes.  Encouragement was usually concealing condescension, and praise, envy, and Essek had no appetite for these poisoned gifts.

Here, though, speaking to his quiet listener, he could be imperfect.  He could make mistakes, and be treated with grace.  Free of judgment. 

He traced the edge of the flower one more time, then took a breath, emboldened.

“Alright.  Starting once again, from the beginning.  Once we accept the Principle of Infinite Division, a challenge in identifying a single timeline occurs when—”

The rain pitter-patted on the windows, as though the night was curious too about how Essek’s research was progressing and wished to listen in.  The low murmur of Essek’s voice mingled with the crackle of the hearth, the space warm, and though Essek was alone, he was not lonely.

Hours passed.  The fire grew low, and the candles short. 

Essek was slumped on the desk, head pillowed on one arm, and the other loosely circling the base of the potted tree, knuckles resting against cool ceramic.  His magelights had gone out a while ago and he had not recast them.  A few fresh pages of scribblings were scattered around him.  A few had fallen to the floor among a modest graveyard of crumpled rejects.

His eyes were closed, neither fully trancing nor true-sleeping, but a hazy mixture of both in which reality felt surreal and soft-edged.  A well-earned doze after his academic fugue: he had made progress.

He was not alarmed when there was the muted susurrus of a throw blanket unfolding, nor the weight of it coming to rest on his shoulders.  He accepted these things each as they happened, feeling content.

“It’s me,” came a low voice, pitched soft as a midnight breeze through new leaves.  

“I know,” Essek said sleepily, eyes still closed.  “I always know when it’s you.”  

Fingers carded through his hair.  “Resting at your desk again?  I hope it is because things are going well.”

“It is,” Essek answered. “I have been using the method you suggested.”

“Oh?”

With a yawn, he straightened up and opened his eyes.

Caleb was there, leaned against the desk, looking down at Essek with fondness crimping his expression, his red hair turned bronze by the glowing embers in the hearth.  He looked travel-weary and wonderful.

Essek took up Caleb’s hand and held it to his cheek, just because he could. “Yes, I have been explaining the concepts aloud, as if to an ignorant audience.”  He indicated the potted miniature tree next to Caleb’s hip.

Caleb nodded sagely, eyes twinkling.  “Ah, and is our green friend here now fully educated in the Principle of Infinite Division?”

“He’s getting there,” Essek replied.  Then he tugged gently on the hand he held captive, turning his face up to Caleb as a morning flower does the sun.  “Now, come here.”

Caleb smiled, and went.

.

(Happy April Fools! 😁💜🌳)

(also the bonsai is a dwarf pomegranate and would not be "as tall as a tower" in the Empire. Essek knows nothing about botany except where it crosses into alchemy.)

[rare-agere-reverie]

I have a fanfic request for welcome home (if your don’t mind!)

Caregiver(s): Eddie Dear

Regressor(s): Wally Darling

Plot: Eddie is going back to his home after he finished his mail route and spots an overstimulated, regressed Wally trying to hide his regression. Eddie decides to help Wally.

Please and thank you! 👋😅

Woo my first fic for the blog and it’s my hyperfixation! Hope I did your idea justice anon 📬

Something to Hold

CG!Eddie Dear + Little!Wally Darling

“Here’s your mail, Julie!” cheerfully proclaimed Eddie. He pulled a primary-colored letter with a pawprint stamp from his bag. The rainbow monster joyfully took it from him.

“Thanks for the letter, Eddie,” she replied, “Can you play Magic Bakery with me?” The mailman froze a little, remembering the last time Julie played that game. Poppy’s kitchen needed an entire week of cleaning after her sugar potion erupted in a splash of batter.

“I’d like to, but I don’t think I’m up for it,” Eddie excused, his right hand scratching at the back of his neck.

“That’s okay, I bet Frank would love to play Magic Bakery,” reassured Julie confidently. “Bye Eddie! Hope your day’s fun!”

“I’ll see you later!” He tipped his hat as he strolled away. Feeling his hand around inside his mailbag, Eddie sighed freely when he didn’t touch a single letter. Now that his day’s work is done, his schedule is free. Maybe I should fold some paper butterflies; Frank would love that. How about I cut a ribbon of stars? I could even deliver it to Sally. 

Caught up in his thoughts, Eddie tripped over a pebble. Slight pain flared a bit as he landed face first on the grass. He propped himself up, only to spot something small behind the post office.

Huh, did someone leave a package? 

Eddie kept walking, then realized the figure was one of his neighbors. His steps slowed stealthily, as if worried about scaring the person off. Hiding around a corner of the building, the mailman realized it was actually Wally.

The small darling seemed quiet and tense, unlike his usual content self. His ascot hung loose around his neck, his cardigan unbuttoned and nearly falling from his shoulders, and his chest heaving unsteadily. In Eddie’s favor, Wally’s eyes are too trained on the apple in his hands to notice someone spying on him. A self-soothing behavior taking virtually no effect.

The taller friend’s worry only grew at the sight. What could’ve scared him so badly? …I finished my route; it wouldn’t hurt to take a break. A sporadic yet subdued burst of footsteps carried Eddie closer, alerting Wally of his presence.

“Hey Darlin’,” the concerned man sat beside the shorter, “do you need any help?” With a slight turn of the head towards his friend, Wally’s shaking pupils dragged themselves to meet Eddie’s gaze. 

“No,” he decided, his voice soaked in anxiety. A blatant lie, unfit for a usually happy friend and neighbor.

“Oh, Wally, it’s okay to ask for help,” Eddie soothed, reaching a hand out for the frazzled artist. The painter hesitated, glancing wearily between his apple and his friend’s palm. Said friend never stopped displaying such genuine affection, effectively winning Wally over. Wordlessly, one hand held the red fruit while the other hovered over Eddie’s hand. The mail carrier kept a loose yet secure grip, propped Wally up, and led him inside the post office.

For the most part, the inside sparkled with cleanliness; only a side table was littered with scrap paper from a previous crafts project. Eddie placed his hat and work bag on the wall hooks behind the reception desk, and let go of Wally in the process. Free to explore, Wally felt drawn to the table of leftover materials, eyeing every individual paper. When the off-duty mailman returned his attention to his friend in need, his confusion grew a little. After all, Wally’s tantalized by spare pieces of the paper crowns he made for Sally’s last play.

“What is it, Darlin’?” Eddie asked, joining Wally at the cluttered table.

“Red,” mumbled the yellow puppet, pointing at a pile of paper triangles with the same color. He thoughtlessly placed his apple on the table, and admired the differing shades between the maroon scraps and the scarlet fruit.

“That’s right; they’re both red,” awkwardly added Eddie. Despite his quiet exhale unknowingly releasing itself, he couldn’t stop thinking about the unfamiliar behavior unfolding next to him. I’m glad he’s feeling better, but something ain’t right.

“Gween,” Wally muttered, now pointing towards a couple of poorly-cut ovals. That certainly snapped the distracted mailman out of his thoughts.

“Green?” repeated Eddie, mental wheels finding enough courage to turn. Maybe he wants to distract himself with colors, he rationalized. At this apparent correction of pronunciation, the secretly-regressed little darted his eyes down to his fingers, which gently tapped on the table.

“Yeah, that,” spoke Wally, voice shy and small. It melted Eddie’s heart with melancholy, yearning for the artist’s happiness to return. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad, Darlin’,” affirmed Eddie, his words sweeter than any apples Wally had seen. “Just know I want to help you find your smile again, okay?” The regressor nodded confidently, his clear gaze fixed onto Eddie’s while his hands made a grabby motion towards the mail carrier.

“Oh! You want a hug?” Words escaped Wally; he could only repeat his grabby hands. “Aww, of course I will, Darlin’!” Protecting arms wrapped snugly around the little’s limp body.

Smiles on their faces, they stayed like that until Wally’s eyes slowly closed. Naturally, Eddie pulled out his Murphy bed and tucked the sleepy darling underneath soft blankets. As one of them napped, the other lovingly watched over them.

[ask-the-splitmind-au]

Meet the Spearmaster! (Splitmind AU)

Reblogs > Likes (Reblogging helps out a lot, even if it doesn't seem like much!)

The fucked-up science fair project

Some more lore on the designing of Spearmaster is that I wanted my iterator-made sluggies to learn a lot harder into the 'slug' part of slugcat. As such, Spearmaster (and Hunter) have the little feelers on their face, as well as feeling a lot slimier and lacking a lot of fur. Plus, the little ruffle thing around their sides looks really cute to me.

Tagging Station

@doodlebug091

@keeper-of-magic

@angeliteonfridgeduty

@stupidscav

@batnip

@riverripplespeaks

@cherry-b0mber

@luxdraconia

@voldkat

@lunas-sketchbook

(I was also gonna ping every follower, but 1) they'll see this anyway probably and 2) THERE'S ALREADY 20 OF YOU WHAT??)

Pre - Suns

Well, as 'Pre-Suns' as it gets, considering they made them.

Spears was initially created by Suns as a way to deliver the gold pearl to Pebbles. Suns carefully made their organism, placed the pearl inside it's body, and sent it on it's merry little way. Spearmaster did it's duty, delivering the pearl, but on it's way back, was viciously attacked and the pearl was ripped from it's body. Not sure if Suns wanted a pearl like this floating around, Spearmaster decided to lay the pearl to rest somewhere far, where (hopefully) nobody else could find it.

When Spears got back, Suns mostly just told it to do fuck-all until they needed a messenger again. It was always to give sensitive information, usually to Five Pebbles, regarding the process of self-ascension. Overall, Spears grew used to this routine and Suns never really saw Spears as a living creature, rather, an object.

That changed upon the latest, deep red pearl, once Pebbles began rejecting normal communications. After seeing the pearl so violently ripped out, and realizing just how diligent the messenger was in their journeys, Suns' opinion of the little fellow changed and they treated it more like a pet cat when it returned.

Post - Suns

Similar to Ruffles and Moon, Suns was visited by a small dark slugcat that spoke perfectly with no clear indication as to how. After it explained how it was an iterator living within the creature's mind, Suns became intrigued at the idea that this could be the answer. It gave Suns the unique pearl with the information on how to do such, and told it that should the process be a success, pass the pearl on to others nearby when it was no longer of use to them. The creature also advised Suns to craft the ideal body for this, and Suns simply held up Spearmaster, believing their organism to be a perfect host.

Suns attempted to explain everything to Spears, but (in typical cat fashion) they weren't particularly listening. Suns went ahead with the procedure, and bound their mind to Spears'. When the pair came to, Spears was terrified at the sudden loss of life in Suns' puppet until they explained everything from within their head. Suns wanted to take the pearl to Pebbles first, hoping he was still in good enough health to make use of it, but Spears refused to set paw near his can again. Suns decided to let Spears keep doing their thing, but wanted to explore the world a little before they'd think about trying ascension.

Despite this, Spearmaster never really met any other slugcats, even though they were a fast traveler. Suns kept encouraging them to visit other iterators, but each one they went to already seemed to have gotten the message. Interestingly, Spearmaster did meet a green pup with the same eye, and he was quick to spill that Unparalleled Innocence was in his head. Spears found the fellow charming, but had no interest in keeping a young child alive and left shortly after.

Spearmaster travels afar, guided by Suns to find any remaining iterators and share the message with those it has not reached. Secretly, Spearmaster hopes to find the first slugcat who shared the idea with them, since they found themselves quite fond of the creature, despite only seeing them.

[hydrasquadd]

Cosmo the baby dark feywing

New feathers, plants, and accessories

It was a week after the official gathering that made the Hearts for a New Hope official. The feywings were bustling about the base as usual, when Alpine and Sab began a new project. Alpine's brother, Aither, had spent the last few days gathering many colorful stones from the earth, and had deposited them in a pile. Alpine worked to weave threads into a tight rope, as she had done many times before. She and Sab sat together in front of the rocks to assemble their craft.

One by one, the girls tied loops into the rope, then slipped a unique stone into each. Tightening the strings to create a necklace.

Each one was given to a specific member of the group. Every stone had a meaning, it signified their roles. The heads had the biggest stones of them all, showing their leadership. A shiny white quartz for Sab, the medic, and her future team. Soft pink toned rose quartz for Alpine and the nesters. A rough, red tinted stone for Savannah and the hunters. Long blue lapis for the future guardians. Intricate layered sedimentary rock for Alpine and the foragers. Smaller rounded river pebbles for the trainees, soon to be switched out when they graduate. The most beautiful of them all, was the bold purple amethyst presented to Sugar being the leader.

Summer jolted awake with a start. Their little ears twitched. Had they heard something? There it was again. A small jostle. Perhaps just a critter in the darkness. That was Summer's theory, until something moved. Something big. It took them a minute to realize that it was the peculiar egg that had been placed in the nursery.

Summer leaped out of their nest. With not-so-quiet steps they ran over to Alpine, still asleep in a blue heap.

"Hey, hey! Look!" They shook Alpine with their paws, "You have to look!"

She was soon up and alert, head turned to the subject of the trouble. Alpine's dark eyes perfect for night vision. The green egg, sure enough, was moving. Small cracks crept across its surface. She quietly directed Summer to move closer with a flick of her tail. The two watched in captivated silence as the egg began to hatch.

The sun began to show, light sparkling through the trees, by the time the new cub emerged. The baby was small, but not as small as Summer once was. Their fur was wet with residue from the egg, and shone with a dark green and blue hue. Their face and belly a striking pure white. But they didn't look quite like a common feywing, with the complete lack of wings and pitch black eyes. As the group had expected, they were a feyvolx.

Summer leaned forward, and with a caring paw, began to pick pieces of the leftover shell from the cub's wet fur. Alpine found herself impressed with their gentleness.

As feywing cubs begin to grow, so do their special traits. Two stiff pins appear in Summer and Sorrel's heads. Fascinated, Stormy waits for her own. However, the feathers that emerge from these protective sheets are exclusive to male sexed feywings. Chatter begins on what colors they will turn out to be.

In a week's time, the answer is revealed. Their father, Savannah, teaches the two how to remove the sheath. Sorrel's new feathers show to be a striking orange, little white edges to complete the look. Summer sports a sky blue with yellow tips like a sunny day.

But feathers aren't the only things the cubs can now sprout. Sab tests the siblings' magic ability to grow plants from their fur. Sure enough, all three of them jump with excitement when little round plants appear. Their mother explains that they can grow any kind of succulents they please, but the cubs decide they want ones just like Mom's.

[melishade]

Prompt # 94

This ask game

Moblit admiring the intricacies of Optimus Prime.

Moblit was afraid when the Metal Titan known as Optimus Prime showed up in Trost and helped protect both soldier and civilian. This titan took out at least 100 titans. At least according to the official report. The titan could have killed way more. However, he grew more fearful when Optimus Prime was given to the Survey Corps. It wasn't because he feared the titan at that point. The altruism it displayed in the courtroom was a marvel. No, he feared what Hanji was going to do to it when they had the chance.

But Optimus Prime was putting effort to have them exhibit restraint and patience. It helped, but not that much in his opinion. He still had to help out Hanji with experimentations, so he kept a close eye on the both of them. Now he sat in another one of Hanji's many experiments with this titan. Thankfully, it seemed that Optimus was keeping them in line, so Moblit continued to study the titan in his own way.

Moblit wanted to be an artist when he was younger. He practiced and took lessons, but being an artist was competitive, and he needed to find a way to make a living. The Survey Corps were enrolling people, so he joined. His sharp mind and desire to learn caused him to be placed under Hanji. The squad leader's heart was in the right place, but they stressed him out so much to the point where he would have to get alcohol poisoning in order to get drunk. Still, Moblit was able to cover some of Hanji's weaknesses, and create diagrams of perfection for Hanji to further analyze and speculate.

His art allowed him to capture the beauty and the details that many with a normal eye would miss. The shine in the eyes of a living human and the lack of warmth in a dead one, the dead yet manic expressions of a titan, the strands of someone's hair, the wrinkles in the fabric of someone's clothing, he used his artistic ability to capture the life that someone had once lived.

Drawing humans and titans was one thing; however. Drawing a titan, or Cybertronian, like Optimus was another. The titan...was a marvel in terms of art. Humans and titans are detailed in their own way, but many vital organs and details of the human body are covered with a layer of skin. The titan's body had metal parts sticking out of him that wasn't covered by his skin, or armor. Metal protruded out of his joints, he could physically see the muscle lining of his abdomen, the wheels attached to his feet had groves and indents, and he could see rocks and pebbles stuck in between it. His armor had scratches and indents, he could see his reflection in the silver of the Prime's gun and sword. The way his eyes rotated and shined was so fascinating.

His first time drawing the Prime was...lop-sided. Uneven. Ugly. It was the first time in a long time that he's been stumped with a new project like this, since this was his first time encountering a titan like this. But time passed. Pages upon pages of his sketchbook filled with the titan in order to study him. To understand him. Hanji understands the world through science. He understands the world through art.

And Optimus Prime was...magnificent. Beautiful. A marvel to behold. Wherever he had come from, and whoever created him, took time love, and care into making someone as mighty and powerful as him, but ensured that despite all of his power, he would still have a kind heart.

Moblit's pencil continued scratching along the paper as he finished up another sketch of Optimus' face. This time he did put more detail into crafting his facial features instead of a contour pose. He did draw him with the mask because without it made him feel weird. It was so weird seeing someone without a nose.

"Moblit, how's the work coming along?!" Hanji called out to him.

"Fine, Hanji!" Moblit reassured, "Just doing another study of Optimus."

"Oooo, that means he's drawing you!" Hanji grinned to Optimus as they walked up to him.

"Drawing me?" Optimus questioned in surprise.

"No! He doesn't need to see!" Moblit tried to hide his drawing, but Hanji grabbed the sketchbook and showed it to the Prime. Moblit grew nervous at the thought of the Prime judging his art as he examined it, but...the Prime's expression morphed into something of amazement.

"You are very talented, Moblit," Optimus complimented.

"It's nothing," Moblit proclaimed as he snatched the notebook back from Hanji.

"I do mean it," Optimus reassured, "You have an amazing gift."

"Oh...thank you." Moblit rubbed the back of his head.

"Although that was still rude to take his belongings without proper permission," Optimus scolded Hanji.

"Moblit is a great artist, but he sells himself short," Hanji retorted.

"That is still quite rude," Optimus insisted.

"Fair enough," Hanji sighed before turning to Moblit. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Moblit reassured.

(I did Moblit dirty in AOP so I thought I'd show him a little love. 32 has been asked but everything else is free game.)

[resolutepath]

⛄: for our muses to build a snowman together (tartag and vautrin bc the image popped into my head and i simply had to)

Snezhnaya had been an inevitability with the nations left unvisited dwindling on their worldwide traversal of Teyvat, and though there was still much left unexplored, the holiday season had ended up being the perfect segway into taking the once captain home to the tundras and plains of glistening white. He had been uncertain at first, but fortune had meant the local festivities had left them far from Fatui operations bar his odd meeting that he disappeared for and left Vautrin in the care of his family, and the buffer of his company meant that his mother and father had been more cordial than usual in his presence.

The most joyous event, however, had been seeing the captain interact with Teucer, Tonia and Anthon. The three youngest loved the captain; Tonia convinced him to dance, Teucer asked to learn swordplay and Anthon quizzed him every question under the sun about Fontaine. It had been enough to warm his heart, giving him a chance to step back and smile softly, glad that they approved of his companion.

At least until Teucer had noticed his inactivity, and demanded they all square off in a snowball fight.

The fight itself had been a majestic display of both chaos and skill. There had been delighted laughter and fierce chuckles filling the space, and for once there had been a sense of peace that had surrounded the homestead. It had come at the penalty of a well-aimed snowball to his left cheek, and the shuddering sense of sleet slipping down his back as Vautrin organised the three into a surprise attack, but it had been worth it to see them all looking so very happy. To see Vautrin with flushed cheeks and a joyous expression of his own, fitting in with the antics that he often left in his wake.

Eventually the three had been bundled inside, though Childe did not follow, waving off the offer of hot cocoa to instead remain in the cold that he could no longer feel so starkly and begin rolling the snow methodically. It does not take him long to see that the Fontainian has not followed into the homestead and he looks to him with a smile.

"You don't have to stay out here if you don't want to. The fire's inviting..." Lips curl into an accommodating smile, but it does not reach his eyes, less so than his usual expressions. He already knows what awaits him should he wander inside, the furtive glances from his mother as if waiting for the monster that wanders in her son's skin to bear its fangs, his father's coarse words that mean little to him as he continues to reach new heights. No it is easier to stay away.

But Vautrin shows no signs of moving, stubborn man that he is. Instead he offers but a simple enquiry as to what the plan is next, so Childe sighs and rises to his full height, readjusting the red scarf at his throat. "Snowmen, a whole army of them. To immortalise our fight until they melt or the animals get them. Just something for them to enjoy." Something to keep me out the house.

He does not expect anything else, it is a juvenile project that will leave his hands stinging red and his body exhausted, yet Vautrin surprises him again. It is not long before they are rolling the snow together, pushing and sculpting, crafting a beautifully intentioned scene of snow blobs. He wraps his scarf around the tall one in the centre and plucks the hat from Vautrin's head for the other commanding the small snow troops. Lopsided smiles are added in pebbles found from the perimeter of the house and shining eyes in larger stones. The quick snap of sticks and and a makeshift duel as they were wrestled from branches provided arms and soon the two men could step back and view their well-intentioned work. It is a little clunky, Teucer's leaning heavily to the left, Tonia's head is a little too big and Anthon's looking precariously close to collapse, but all the same it exists.

A hand slings around Vautrin's shoulders as Childe leans into him with a smile, laughing heartily even as he shivers, finally feeling the cold trickle in. "I'd say we did a good job, what do you think? Time for something to warm us through?" A wink follows and a nudge of the hip, before Childe disentangles himself and leads the way back to the house where they might gather themselves.

He stops on the threshold and surveys their work, a smile sitting on his lips as he replays their actions through his mind. Chatter begins to slip from his lips, asking preferences for drinks - warm or cold, fireside or blankets or both, stories or songs or silence - and something peaceful settles in his chest. And just for a moment, those oceanic hues glint with the warmth of life that hasn't been present since he fell into the depths of The Abyss.

[kaceyunderfell]

Fuck it, Pinned post time

(Alt of @eclipse-kitsune)

Hello anyone who sees this, I am Kacey, also known as Eclipse or Timber

Note to mutuals: Do not trust that "online indicator", I keep my Chromebook open and Tumblr tabs open so it may say I'm "online" when I'm not

- Passage Scugs project main post here -

Self-appointed ruler of LagSpike

The official CEO of Familial Ties [NOT A SHIP!]

Best ship(s) in my personal opinion: LagSpike, Error 404, KarmaFlower, FishStick, Murder Moms

They/them with a sprinkle of any pronouns :D

I am an artist, yes. Though right now I am stuck on this Chromebook with limited options on where to draw. I enjoy traditional art-ing, though am currently not able to show any of that due to not having a functioning phone at the moment. <- (will update when I find my phone or get a new one)

Current interest(s): Rain World, CoTL, Cats are Liquid, and more!

If you think I'm gonna add an online status indicator, you are INCORRECT!! HAHA INCONSISTENCY GO BRRR!! I COULD NEVER KEEP THAT UP!!!

Tag stuff ig:

#Kaceyposts - Me posting something, seems obvious don't you think?

#Kaceypinnedpost - The pinned post of my blog :D

#Kaceyreblogs - I rebloged something, doesn't that seem obvious?

#Kaceyanswers - I answered an ask :0

#Kaceypolls - Polls that I set up

#Kaceyunderfell's art - My "#My art" tag replacement

#Kaceyunderfell's ocs - My wonderful ocs have been mentioned :0

#rw passage scugs project - Rain World fans create slugcats based on the 14 passages in Rain World: Downpour

#Kacey shares Fight Rising Stuff - Pretty self-explanatory don't you think? I share Flight Rising stuff with y'all because I have officially started posting about that

Ocs, because I wanna list them (this is not all of them) + a short description:

The Mimic - Voidborn creature able to shift forms, appears similar to an echo (mainly with colors), very silly personality, very pure-hearted, goes by It/its pronouns, curious about the world around it, able to eat non-edible objects without much harm, void fluid blood

The Copycat - Small slugcat, cyan in color with a lil music note on their forehead, iterator creation (but not a messenger), kills creatures and uses their bodies for their own benefit, goes by They/them pronouns, not very pure at all, very violent, gremlin vibes

The Midnight - Tall slugcat, long prehensile tail that has a spiral on the tip, this spiral emits electricity passively, annoyed easily, believed that she was perfect, goes by She/her/he pronouns (transfem), violent at first, enemies with Copycat

The Evader - Tall slugcat, long prehensile tail, Gourmand's crafting ability, Artificer's explosive abilities, lives primarily in OE (Outer Expanse), knows little about iterators but wants to learn more, goes by He/they pronouns, smart, knows a lot about the ecosystem

Ever-Moving Shadows (EMS) - Stranded iterator build (probably gen 3 or 4), Darker color palate, white eyes, wears a sweater, antennae are like Pebbles' but move back at the top (imagine like.. a music note?), goes by He/him pronouns, annoyed easily, thinks he's perfect and therefore everything he makes is perfect as well

Puppets Enter Nature (PEN) - Mobile iterator, leaf emblem on head, brown-ish color palate, white eyes, mint scarf around neck, white cloak, slugcat-like "tail" which is grey, goes by He/they pronouns, silly personality, adopted slugpup: Saint, besties with LoL, NSH and SRS

Lack/Loss of Leadership (LoL) - Mobile iterator, crown emblem on head, white eyes, golden(?) color palate, fluffy cloak (like my headcanon SRS has), slugcat-like "tail" but has a charger built into it, goes by They/them pronouns, silly personality, besties with PEN

Keys of Enlightenment - Collapsed iterator, gold and black color palate, black eyes, created the scugzards, goes by She/her pronouns, obsessed with lizards

The Hybrid - Strawberry scugzard (slugcat + lizard), created by KoE, made last in the chronological timeline due to strawberries only appearing in Saint's campaign, goes by She/any pronouns, friendly personality, siblings with Alpha, Zippy, Camy, Fuchsia, Noir, and Slayer (Camy belongs to Nsp, Fuchsia belongs to Cherry and Noir and Slayer belong to Harper)

The Alpha - Red scugzard (slugcat + lizard), created by KoE, made second in the chronological timeline, goes by They/any pronouns, the "alpha" of the group of scugzards, more lizard than slugcat (genetically), quite smart, second longest scugzard, siblings with Alpha, Zippy, Camy, Fuchsia, Noir, and Slayer (Camy belongs to Nsp, Fuchsia belongs to Cherry and Noir and Slayer belong to Harper)

The Zippy - Cyan scugzard (slugcat + lizard), created by KoE, middle sibling, energetic, very social, goes by Any/all pronouns, silly, traumatized easily, siblings with Alpha, Zippy, Camy, Fuchsia, Noir, and Slayer (Camy belongs to Nsp, Fuchsia belongs to Cherry and Noir and Slayer belong to Harper)

Seven Oceans of Acid (SOoA) - 4th gen iterator, not much personality (but I do remember I made him sadistic), I cant remember what design I gave him lol, goes by He/him pronouns

The Famine - Walking famine slugcat, created by SOoA, anything that can decay will decay when near him, same with things that can rust, spears are practically useless to him, predators like lizards stay away from him, goes by He/him pronouns, very depressed

The Withered - Slugcat with the ability to change states of matter at will, created by SOoA, very loyal, goes by They/them pronouns, sadistic at times, doesn't give up easily

Kacey - Wolf monster from Undertale, twins with Kiara (Kiara belongs to KiaraUnderfell), silly personality, goes by She/her pronouns, basically me, one of my many sonas

Eclipse - Kitsune, title of "bleach queen" <- (made it up on scratch lol), goes by She/her pronouns, basically me, one of my many sonas

Zillah - Cat(?), from Nsp's cool world thing that I cant remember the name of right now, abilities inspired by some elements of Feral Pride, goes by Any/all pronouns

The Static - Slugpup(?), black color palate, white eyes, static-y sound emits passively around it, goes by It/its pronouns, doesn't speak much, creatures around it always feel a sense of dread (which does not go away), slugpup(?) of Distortion

The Distortion - Code dweller (same as my headcanon Nightcat), able to speak without moving its mouth, distorted speech, goes by It/its pronouns, able to sense fear, parental figure of Static

The Fuze - Slugcat/Centipede hybrid, created by an unnamed iterator, immune to centipede shocks, Carnivore-based diet, goes by He/they pronouns, smart, has a tamed centipede named "Zappy", can be silly at times

Onyx - Four armed slugcat, brown color palate, four eyes, no personality given, goes by He/they pronouns

The Raptor - Vulture/slugcat hybrid, values their kin (other slugcat hybrids), won't attack without reason, goes by He/they pronouns, created by an iterator with the acronym "FEATHER"