#I mean I HAVE been using colors OUTSIDE of black/white/very dark grey *jazz hands*

[wuhuha]

Just a *gasp* non-chibi sketch dump. Maybe one day I will learn to render hair beyond 1 shadow layer + a higlight one.

Been stressing about learning how to color my art lately, so been enjoying just doing good ol' line art.

[ansheofthevalley]

In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said - Chapter 1 “Late night talks and late night calls”

Summary:  It's New Year's Eve, and ace student Sansa Stark has had a great year. She is at the top of her class in the Daeron School of Political Science; she grew closer to her big brother (and now protector) Robb; she made awesome new friends and was adjusting perfectly to the change moving from cold, icy Winterfell to the bright King's Landing. With her family in town, this holiday season was supposed to be perfect for Sansa, but life is not a song. Life, Sansa would learn, has funny ways to show us what we need; and sometimes, what we need is way better that what we ever dreamed of.

"Come on, Margaery. We're going to be late!" Sansa reminded her friend for the twelfth time in the last thirty minutes.

"Well, yeah, Sans. That's the point" her friend replied, her voice an echo finding its way to the small living-room.

"We don't want to be punctual, we want to fashionably late" added Loras, Margaery's younger brother, sitting in one of the dining chairs, scrolling down his phone. The Tyrell siblings were socially savvy as they were beautiful. And they are really beautiful. "But you are forgiven because -"

"You're from the North" screamed Margaery from her room, trying to finish her brother's sentence. Sansa could picture the bright smile in her face as she said that.

"You guys know that Winterfell is not made of ice, right? And that we don't live secluded from people?" she retorted as she rolled her eyes. The siblings would always taunt her with how different she was from southenerns. "You could totally pass for someone from the Riverlands or even the Reach, but the moment you open your mouth, well, that gives it away that you're a northener" Margaery had told her once, in the early stages of their friendship.

When she first arrived at Aegon University, she had a hard time making friends. She's naturally reserved and missed her friends back home, especially Jeyne. But she found a great friend in Margaery. She first met Margaery in her Political Theory class and has since "been under her wing" as her friend puts it. Both Loras and his sister taught her "the Southern way" to do things. Sansa realized it was not just the climate or the scenery that differentiate the North from the South. It was the people, their way of thinking, their way of doing things. And even if the lesson they taught her was really about how to deal with boys, which trends to follow and how to get invited to the coolest parties, Sansa saw a deeper meaning in it. She always did. That was the reason she was a Political Science undergrad. She knew that something as simple as a word or an action is way more than just that. An action, simple as it may be, could wield great power. Words could easily work as a veil or be what they were intended to be, and Margaery understood this. She comes from a very powerful industrial family, she knows all about words, actions and power. The Queen of Thornes is her grandmother, after all.

"OK, I just had the greatest idea for next Halloween" Margaery exclaimed, coming out of her room in her green bathrobe, barefeet and with her make-up half done. "I'm a genius. We get you a blonde wig and bam, you're Elsa. And I'll be your Anna. I tell you, I'm a gen-"

"I'm going to stop right there" Sansa interrumped her friend before she got too excited by the idea. "It's a hard pass on that one. I'll never hear the end of bad Frozen puns" she quickly added when she saw her make what Loras dubbed "the little rose" face. She'd always make that face when she wanted something, ever since she was a little girl. Since then, that face had seen fair its share of successs.

"Besides, Frozen costumes are so 2014" Loras added, winking at Sansa. Margaery's idea of a Frozen revival wouldn't see the light.

"You guys are no fun" she grumbled, slowly walking back to her room.

"And you're making us late"

*****************************************

After waiting thirty minutes in their aparment for Margaery to get ready, plus the forty five-minute ride (with various agurments in favor of an Elsa-Anna ensamble for next Halloween from Margaery) from the apartment to the house of the Harry guy that was throwing the party, it was official: they were late.

The house wasn't a house, but a post modern-style mansion. There was a fountain just in the middle of the driveway, surrounded by beautiful flowers brought from all the corners of Westeros. There were even some essosi wild flowers. The whole scenery screamed money. The three of them looked at the house, then at each other, then back at the house.

Margaery was the first to snap out of the beauty of the facade. "OK, Jeyne Westerling told me this guy, Harry Hardyng, is like the heir of Arryn Mountain Woods or something like that" she started to explain.

"But since he is new to the game" Loras continued, looking around him.

"And has lots money and space to spare" Margaery said with a grin.

"He now wants to surround himself with the best of Aegon University" Loras finished, looking completely pleased with himself.

"But have you even met him?" Sansa inquired.

"I've seen pictures of him" Margaery replied. "Those baby blue eyes..." she sighed.

"But how do we know he's not... you know..." she continued, gesticulating with her hands.

"A werido? A creep?" Loras finished the sentence for her. "Sans, I admit you got a point" said with more seriousness than what their current conversation required.

"Oh Gods, what if he is one of those who's into feet?" Margaery muttered, "I don't know if I can handle that" horror written on her face.

"Well, if he's one of those, worry not, dear sister" Loras consoled her with a melodramatic, jesting tone. "You have ugly feet" that had earned Loras a slap on the arm. Sansa couldn't help but laugh. She always loved it when the siblings jested. It reminded her of her own family, of home.

"Well, I didn't mean a foot fetish" she laughed, "but how about we go inside and see for ourselves?"

When the trio headed arrived at the double-winged door they were received by a grey-haired man in a dark suit, with a not so amicable face.

"Names, please" inquired the man

"Margaery and Loras Tyrell and Sansa Stark" as always, Margaery was the voice of the group.

The grey-haired man looked at the list in his hand, and, after letting out a little sigh, opened the door for them.

If the facade had dazzled them, the interior of the mansion was a whole other thing. White marble floors, stone-colored walls covered with various abstract and cubist paintings, a great, crystal chanderlier that hanged in the center of the room, couches and chairs in cool shades of blue and a great crystal wall that made way to a pool. The room screamed opulence from wherever you saw it. Sansa didn't like it.

There was jazz music playing in the background, and a whole group of people dressed in an elegant yet simple way, conversing and drinking wine that the Tyrell siblings and Sansa didn't know.

It was in that moment that Sansa regretted listening to Margaery and wear the purple mini dress.

Shortly after, the host approached them and introduced himself.

"Hello and welcome to my humbling home" Harry started. "You must be Margaery and Loras. I've heard a great deal of the beautiful roses of Highgarden" he said with some sweetness in his tone. "And you must be Sansa, the beautiful winter rose of Winterfell". Sansa didn't like how he make them all sound like things valuable only on beauty and influence.

"You have a charming home, Harry" Margaery was quick to respond.

"Your garden up front is beautiful. I've never seen those flowers bloom outside the Reach" Loras added.

It seemed it was her turn to say something nice, even though she wasn't feeling the whole "I shit money" vibe of the place and the host. She was about to say something about the room, but she asked about a painting in the shades of blue and purple hanging near where they were standing instead.

"Georgia O'Keeffe, the Black Iris III. Beautiful, isn't it?" he said as he moved to her side. "You can feel the raw sensuality in the way she uses the colors" Harry said, almost in a whisper.

She had a dire need to roll her eyes at the move Harry was trying to pull. Ugh, just my luck, she thought.

"I like the colors, but I'm more into Impressionism and Romanticism. Monet, Bazille, Janmot, Friedrich..."

"I see" Harry laughed "Fine Arts undergrad, I gather?"

"Political Science, actually. Me and Margaery actually-" she turned around to say something to her, only to find out that she was gone. She could see Loras with what she thought it was a TA at the Naerys School of Fine Arts.

Oh, well. It seems I'll have to do this on my own, she thought.

When she turned, she saw him, really saw him: blond hair, baby blue eyes, perfect smile. The young, handsome, sweet, attentive heir. The guy every girl on campus would and most certainly will fall for. But behind those pretty eyes and perfect smile there was a cunning young man, probably used to get what he wants. And he was sweet, too sweet.

"Politics?" he sounded surprised. "I never thought a pretty girl that knows a lot about art like you would torment her pretty head with... arguing" he said with a charming smile.

Smug wasn't enough, he's also sexist. "Oh, it's not arguing" she commented, starting to move around the room, with Harry quickly following her. "At least it isn't when it's done right" she smiled. "It's all about people. It's about everything that surrounds them" she continued as she took a look around the room "It's about being able to detect their wants, their needs, and the best way to make it all happen" she said as she moved closer to him. Harry was like a hawk, never taking his eyes off of her. "But..." she trailed off.

"But?"

"But it can also be about dangers and how to handle them, how to detect them and neutralize them, in way where nobody gets hurt. Sometimes you succeed, sometimes you don't" she continued, locking her eyes with his. He nodded and smiled. He seemed to catch what she was saying. She gave him another sweet smile. "I don't want to keep you from your hosting duty" she concluded.

He professed his wish to continue their conversation later in the evening, and left her with a very decorous, and very unnecesary kiss on the hand.

It was official: Sansa hated the guy.

She walked around the room some more, trying to find her friends, only to remain alone in a room full of strangers. But just when she was heading towards the gardens, she saw Margaery with two glasses of what were probably a couple of mojitos. "Marge, where have you been? You left me alone with that... that..." Sansa whispered, trying to calm herself. After all, it was not her friend she was angry at.

"With that hottie?" Margaery laughed.

"With that asshole!" Sansa replied as quietly as she could. "Give me that" she took the other glass and took a long sip.

"Hey, easy. We don't want another..." her friend looked around her before continuing "another Jon situation" Margaery couldn't help but giggle at the mention of Robb's best friend.

"Jon situation? Nothing happened that night" she was quick to reply, and even quicker to redden.

"If your definition of nothing is admitting through tears that you had a crush on him pretty much all of your childhood, then throw up, then pass out, then wake up the next morning in his room  while he assured you that you slept like a rock while he slept in the living-room and said he wished you were feeling better and that you two could pretend that what you said never happened..." she said, no longer holding back the laughter "OK, then, nothing happened" she took another sip of the mojito to stop laughing.

"OK, it's true that I'm not a heavy drinker and that sometimes, sometimes, I get a little... soapy" she tried to tell Margaery, but she just kept on laughing. "But he took care of me and never brought it up, unlike some people I know" she pointed out, taking little sips from her glass.

"Oh no, he would never do that. Jon Snow is the spitting image of chivalry perfection" she said in a melodramatic tone, similar to her brother's when he's teasing either of them. "You said that to me for forty minutes before you professed your love".

"Oh, shut up. It's been months since it happened and I want to forget about it. But I can't, because every time I drink something with alcohol in it you 'worry' about a Jon situation" she berated her friend.

"OK, no need to get all defensive, I'm just teasing" Margaery said while hugging her. "Besides, Jon Snow doesn't know shit if he can't see what a great, beautiful, smart young woman you are" she said, in all seriousness now. "So the veredict is final on Harry?" she asked, doing a one-eighty.

"Oh yeah. But don't get me started"

"To be honest, I truly don't know what I expected from the new guy" Margaery started, lifting one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows, "but it certainly wasn't this. I mean, who invites professors to a party? I just saw Loras flirt with that TA from one of his classes".

"Well, he's not technically a professor, you just said he's a TA. And we definetely didn't dress for the occasion" Sansa said, looking down at her attire.

"Oh, honey, no. The occasion was not for us. We look great" her friend replied. Sansa was wearing one of Margaery's dresses, a long-sleeved purple mini dress with silver high heels. Margaery was wearing one of her favorite ensambles, a shimmery gold crop top with a matching high-waisted mini skirt with white-and-gold ankle boots. Both had their hair down, in a cascade of curls.

(Continue reading on AO3)

[hobimysun-shine]

bts as billie eilish songs

I love both artist so much because they are so diverse, so driven and in love with their art, so here’s what my mind created at 2am when i actually gotta study for an exam, but anyhow, enjoy

Jeon Jungkook - Ocean eyes 

“Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind Careful creature Made friends with time”

- color scheme: Venice lavender; purple rain; valor blue 

- grey clouds, quiet ocean, salty air, cold sand, bare feet, long sweater, careful wind, watery eyes, 

- angelic, naive, trusting, incapable of stopping emotions

- a feel of uncertainty for the future, because you still have so much to experience in life, it’s hard to know who to trust, where to go and what your tears mean, who you should give them to 

- young love, pain

- it basically speaks of someone who is impressed by another human - love based on instinct and intuition, when you’re young you just feel things, even if you don’t know where these emotions come from (jungkook-namjoon relationship) ; 

- trusting someone by the feeling you get around them, without being able to trust your common sense,

- have you seen jungkook’s beautiful, ocean, doe eyes ?? (if not, then wth you doin’ with your life))

Park Jimin - idontwannabeyouanymore

“I just wish you could feel what you say Show, never tell But I know you too well Got a mood that you wish you could sell

Tell the mirror what you know she's heard before I don't wanna be you anymore”

- color scheme: pale smoke; scotch mist; apple blossom 

- cold air, morning dew, raindrops at the bottom of your window, the fabric softener your mom uses to wash your sheets, soft breathing on the side of your neck, white mirrors 

-  self-persuasion, self-critique, inner conflict, serenity, content, libra’s aesthetic approach

- if you have listened to lie and looked at the lyrics, you know why i chose this song for jimin 

- you basically get the feeling that the person is speaking to himself in this song, trying to find an answer, as to why he puts himself through all these hardships, when he could break free from this vacuum of perfectionism he created for himself

- let’s be real, we all know what jimin had to go through and maybe is still going through with being too harsh on himself, with his body image and his appearance on stage, i hope he is doing well now and is content with himself, cause he is a 100/10 and we all love him so much 

Kim Taehyung - hostage; my boy 

“I wanna be alone Alone with you - does that make sense? I wanna steal your soul”

“ My boy's an ugly crier but he's such a pretty liar”

- color scheme: concord purple; red wine; aurum gold

- big windows, night sky, city view, studio apartment, dark walls, smell of acrylic paint, ripped jeans with that paint splattered on them, acoustic guitars on the walls, quiet jazz music, film paper smoke, deep laughter, strong arms around your waist

- artistic freedom, no fear of judgement, mutual understanding, chest butterflies, assurance, hope, soulmates, in tune with your emotions, who cares if the world doesn’t get us, we get us

- hostage just reminds me of two people, who connect on a soul level so much, that what happens is their love turns into mutual engagement, similar to keeping each other as hostages in their hearts, however i wanted to turn the meaning of that song less toxic for taehyung,, 

- i believe that if there’s a member that would want to connect with people in such level as the song suggests, it would be taehyung

- as for my boy, idk it just gives me a similar base line as in singularity, and i don’t know it’s just probably my fave song of billie and i feel like it is just taehyung’s vibe when i listen to it 

Jung Hoseok - bellyache

“ Everything I do the way I wear my noose Like a necklace I wanna make 'em scared like I could be anywhere Like I'm wreck-less

I lost my mind I don't mind “

- color scheme: marigold yellow; apricot orange; candy red

- summer heat, tan skin, blushed cheeks, endless roads, loose shirts, scratched knees, rich kids away from home, one backpack and a shiny red ford convertible from your bf’s dad’s garage, loud music, lips, swollen from kissing, night fireworks

- fed up with everything, escape from reality, that one summer you will never forget, vibrant love, point of no return, rhythm, gut intuition, boldness 

- i don’t know exactly either, it’s just these are the connections i make when i hear this song, and all of that screams hobi to me (aries moon) 

- also am i the only one who imagines he would make a killer dance routine to that song (but again he could probably dance to a water drops going down a pipe, so,,)

Namjoon - bury a friend; copycat 

“What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go? “

“ Perfect murder, take your aim I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name”

- color scheme: pearl river; silver fox, steel wood

- empty stage, burning projectors slowly being turned off, microphone heavy in your hand, as the words that went though it start to make sense, sweaty hair, footsteps echoing in the vast space, feeling of falling down, unexpected, but comforting hug, security, the calming scent of someone you know in this new environment, tears of fear and excitement at the same time, new life, new beginning

-  words said out loud, revenge, mixed feeling of content and fast approaching emptiness, always racing thoughts, insomnia, trying to fill a void, searching for an overall meaning, 

- so bury a friend is just has all these questions man. they remind me of rm’s mind. i feel like all of them are things he had already asked himself, or themes he implies in his songs too 

- copycat is for namjoon swiftly leading a group that got a ton of criticism in the beginning and is still getting hate, but regardless he manages to stay on top, write what he feels, be a real artist and throw everything people said about bts failing back at their faces 

Min Yoongi - lovely ; you should see me in a crown 

“Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here Even if it takes all night or a hundred years Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near Wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear”

“ You should see me in a crown I'm gonna run this nothing town Watch me make 'em bow One by one by, one”

- color scheme: marble white; smoke ember; royal silver;  

- dark room, cold hands, shaky breath, unable to look at each other’s eyes, fear of the outside and the inside, pocket money, long fingers pressing the out-of-tune piano keys, weary smiles, small steps

                                          (....)

 steady hands, marble walls, scent of freshly printed documents, looking through a box of old photo albums your mom sent, turning the pages a larger hand stops you from flipping the next page, two teenagers than look awfully like you two are staring back fearfully, low chuckles, eyes full of love  

- strong minds, growth, stability, strength, control, prosperity, hard work, passion, ambition

- lovely is in here because i feel like it portrays struggles with mental health and depression very well. you feel trapped and you feel like there is no one else who understands your personal hell and you are the only one who has to find a way for yourself to get out of that place. yoongi has been in such places before as we’ve heard from him and his lyrics, so i though lovely represents his struggles when he was younger

- you should see me in a crown. literally that’s all i can say, he worked for his success and he got it and he deserves it and he is killing it right now

- yall don’t know the amount of respect i got for this man and everything he has been through and i feel like these two songs portray his lowest and his highest in life and take account every struggle along the way and how he truly deserves everything he has right now 

Kim Seokjin - when the party’s over

“ Don't you know I'm no good for you I've learned to lose you, can't afford to

Don't you know too much already I'll only hurt you if you let me

Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that”

- color scheme: night snow, onyx black, muddy grey

- smell of liquor, messy steps, blurred vision, flood of thoughts, the darkest time of the night, dried streams of tears on your cheeks, your boyfriend’s hand quietly holding yours, but them you have to split ways, walking alone on the dead street, cold wind air hitting your face, but you find comfort in it, you reach home, but you can’t seem to go in; so you sit on the sidewalk, looking down; you hear distant steps; he sits down in the snow next to you; the sky slowly, but surely becomes lighter 

- quiet sadness, deeper understanding of the world, human relationships seem harder, yet simpler, timeless feeling, a sense of maturity

- this song is just a masterpiece. hear me out, i don’t think i would understand this song as well as i do now, if i have listened to it a few years back. I would have been like “oh yeah it’s sad”

-But like. no. It’s not just sad. It’s a song that shows so much maturity and experience with life that first of all, idk how billie is so young and is able to create music like that. Second of all i don’t think anyone else of bts would fit better to it, than jin 

- people tend to overlook his deeper emotions because he tends to distract from them, he always acts “silly” and tells jokes, but i feel like in songs like epiphany and awake we can see that jin really sees the world and his abilities from a much more mature point of view than other members. And i get the same vibe from billie’s song, so i feel like it would fit best for jin. 

So actually this was way longer than i planned, but yeah, this is just strictly my opinion and it was just an idea i had at 3am now, as i said, hope it’s fun to read :))

im off to bed, because i’m so sleep deprived i will start hearing colors soon 

[miss-m-winks]

Instead of a summary of my art from each month of 2019 I’ve compiled a summary of my art from every year of this decade! Finding some of that old art was incredibly difficult.

And making an exact image description of all this would be too long to write or read so I’m going to do my best to describe all this in a concise and interesting way.

2010: I was a sophomore in high school, so about 15 years old. These two drawings are in pencil and colored pencil, one of some random girl character wearing brightly colored clothes and a rainbow shawl thing (??) walking on clouds it seems. No idea what that was meant to be about. The other is a reference for my old oc, the very first one I ever had, based on myself. She looks human but with unicorn ears and a horn, plus wings and a tail. I hadn’t figured out animal legs yet either so she has perfectly normal human legs that just end in hooves.

2011: still mostly pencil, colored pencil, I don’t remember if I had a laptop yet. I would have been 16 years old at this time. I picked a self portrait here, a coloreddrawing of myself in black concert dress playing the trumpet because I got to do a solo in jazz band and I was very happy about it. The other art I picked for this year is digital but in the old ms paint program (you know before it tried to be fancy with a few more realistic tools and was only pixel art tools) I do believe I was still using the family computer for this, with a mouse. I was really creative with the tools. It’s my unicorn girl oc again, flying through the sky. I included a progress image, showing how I made it. I’m so glad I saved the steps and posted them it’s really cool to see my old art process for that.

2012: 17 years old, and I think I finally had a laptop with a good art program on it by this time but I still did mostly traditional art, lots of colored pencil work. I found this old experimental art I did that year, a colored pencil drawing of a girl sitting on a tree branch, but the background is all digital, a painting of a fantasy night sky with three moons. It actually looks kinda good, the edges of the colored pencil drawing are crisp and smooth and the digital background doesn’t look out of place. I mean the shading is a bit of a mess and I used white clouds on a black night sky which is a bit funny looking but it isn’t that bad. The other image is a colored pencil drawing that was really ambitious for me at the time. I had this cool idea to draw Death with sunset colored wings, all poetic and stuff. Why did I also draw death with blue skin and horns? I don’t know. Why is death sitting on an ambiguous brown cliff overlooking a cemetery? Well I guess I just was having trouble finding any other way to make a nice background and have death above a cemetery. I should redo this one, it’s a really good concept.

2013: my last year of high school, 18 years old. I was doing digital art a lot more often this year and expanding the diversity of my ocs. One of these images is a digital drawing of two of my first characters of color, two male black elves (black as in African-based) smoochin. My first black oc was also my first queer oc, jayvyn. A gay elf. There are a lot of issues with the way I originally conceptualized his story but even when I was thinking he was the only queer person in his town and there was homophobia towards him (I was only just dipping my toes outside the mindset I grew up in) I gave him a whole massive group of friends (a boys' lacrosse team he was on don’t ask me why lacrosse I have no idea I don’t even know much about lacrosse it was a weird choice) and those friends were extremely loyal and supportive of him, even to the point of going on dates with him just to make him happy. and again, he was the only gay character I had so I was writing a bunch of straight dudes taking their one gay friend on dates in a town full of people who were at least vaguely homophobic, I definitely had a lot of growing to do in my writing and my own mindset but I’m kinda proud of myself for doing that? I could have done so much worse with my first queer oc and my first real step into characters of color, but I made the whole story about this tight knit group of boys who were all such close loving friends. (Gee I wonder if this had anything to do with my being ace and not knowing it yet). Oh yeah, the other image is also there, that one is from a photoshop class I took. We had a three-way folding mirrors the bathroom at the time so I put on a hoodie, turned out the bathroom lights, folded the mirrors in and shoved my face into the gap and then took a photo with the flash while holding my mouth open in a silent scream. The result is this really cool series of screaming faces at different angles, which I then ran through a few filters and major contrast adjustment. Could be an edgy generic horror movie cover lol

2014: 19 years old, and I just finished a year of community college and then left on a church mission for 18 months. I probably should have used some of my first college art class drawings for this year's summary but I was using my old deviantart gallery to collect these old images so I forgot I had all that college art too. These two digital images are pretty dynamic in different ways. Dynamic lighting and dark skin, an experiment I was doing to figure out lighting better for my characters of color. That’s Jayvyn again I think, with lightning shooting out of his hand because I sure love making characters with lightning powers. The other is dynamic in the posing and I’m still incredibly happy with it, it’s a drawing of a grey centaur from behind, bucking in panic because a kitten pounced on its foot. Definitely still one of the best centaur drawings I have ever made.

2015: 20 years old, I was actually on my church mission for this entire year so finding art from that year was very very tricky. One is just a small pencil drawing on another oc, Ronan with his cool mechanical leg playing fiddle I guess? I was doing a lot of synesthesia doodles that year so there are lots of swirly lines coming off the fiddle. I was also surprised to find this really neat digital art I made of Ravio from link between worlds, I almost forgot I did find a way to make digital art on my mission (no access to my laptop, limited apps we were allowed to use, super limited access to normal computers except for emails and such, always busy doing important stuff) I discovered the drawing function in the iPad notes app and every time I had time I would use it until I figured out how to make it work for me, using only my fingers, the limited color palette options, and this marker tool that had one size and only multiplied (except when using white) this is definitely one of the best ones, but I don’t know where the rest went. I had a lot. I was stunned to find this because it really looks like I could have done it on a laptop, can’t believe I forgot I did that.

2016: 21 years old. Had to get used to a laptop again. Also I created my current main oc Morianten during my church mission so here I have the very first full body digital art of him! I’ve definitely changed his anatomy a lot since then, made him much more bird like. Kinda funny to look at this old one and see just how differently I draw him now, only three years later. I also have here a digital painting of some other members of morianten's adoptive family, his dad and little brother having a father son race in nice racing wheelchairs. I still struggle with proportions when I draw characters in wheelchairs.

2017: 22 years old, and back in college. I really had a focus on figure drawing that year, I was back in college art classes and I found posespace.com which is just full of professionally shot art model photos. I’ve got one digital figure drawing of my oc Talib, another practice in lighting on dark skin. The other image is a charcoal drawing of my oc Parva, I think I did that one in a 30 minute time frame where I was taking pictures at different points to show my process but I’ve lost the process images.

2018: 23 years old, and really getting into color depth with my digital art. I found a really old pencil drawing of a dynamic dancing scene and redid it as a digital painting with extreme colored lighting dynamics and new characters. I also got super into mermay so I’ve included one of my favorites, a rainbow trout gal and her elf girlfriend having a chat after a nice swim. I’m super proud of the colors and proportions here, and the shading is pretty great too.

And then it’s 2019! This year! I’m 24! For this one I used three images instead of two, all digital. My ocs Talib and Kouto as persephone and hades in a really quick painting I did but the colors and lighting are intense and fun. No outlines painting of Morianten with some pretty intense lightning lighting. That one took ages and I’m still not entirely pleased with the way I drew his face there but I’m proud of it. And I never actually posted this last one, it’s a new oc created exclusively for the DC superheroes au I dabbled in with @askmissbernadette, a young hero called Lion riding a skateboard in a dark city with a long coat on because that’s a fun way to replace the common superhero cape design.

Overall, it was really fun to go through my art for the entire decade and see how much it’s changed over time. And to see how much my characters have changed. Hope 2020 is a good year, hope the 20s in general are good. Here’s to another 10 years of change and progress!

[bluboothalassophile]

A Home...

Bruce might not freely admit this, but he had failed Jason. He might not own up to it, but he had perverted his son’s death to be Jason’s fault to try to make it hurt less; not that that one had worked. All that one had seemed to do was later alienate his children from him further because he didn’t want to get hurt or lose one of them ever again. Also, it seemed to have made it harder for him to express himself to them, and how much he really did love them.

And yes, he would admit that while he did not act like a helicopter parent; he was more than well aware on the ongoings for ALL his children’s civilians lives.

Dick and Barbara would be married soon, hopefully they could be mature together again. Dick was also working on making detective in the Blüdhaven Police Force, but he was also looking at a transfer to GCPD to be with Barbara.

Cass was working on her dancing, she wanted to try out for the ABT; American Ballet Theatre, and she was genuinely impressing her dance teachers. He just knew he could watch her all day and be a happy, proud man of his daughter. Cass had secured the lead as the Nutcracker Lead this Christmas in the Gotham Ballet on her own.

Timothy was working at Wayne Enterprises, and any talks about college were promptly shut down by Tim who was still working on explaining reasonably that he had dropped out of High School to the Board and why he should run WE.

Stephanie was attending Gotham Community college, on scholarship, and had been refusing the advances of Gotham Universities Star Quarterback, Steve Barnes. She was working hard on her general education and seriously looking at universities outside of New Jersey; which worried him because of what this could mean to Tim.

Duke was looking at Princeton, and after his break up with Isabella Ortiz, he was forming a tight friendship with Claire Clover. Duke was the most steady and open of his children. For which Bruce was eternally grateful to have an easy child other than Cass.

Damian was fighting school, had a serious infatuation with Raven, and only seemed to like and pursue art outside of crime fighting. Bruce was a bit concerned, but the teen was no longer this explosive ball of rage, so Bruce would watch over his child carefully.

But the son he knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, was Jason.

And Jason didn’t seem inclined to let him in any time soon.

At least he wasn’t going to until exactly six weeks, four days, and eighteen hours ago when Raven had marched into his home and stated to his face that she and Jason were in a long term, steady relationship. Which brought Bruce here.

He had glanced their apartment briefly when he had invited Raven to dinner, and since then he hadn’t been back. He just… he wanted to know that Jason was alright. Raven had said something about Jason renovating their whole apartment, and Damian had mentioned Jason having said something about restoring the apartment himself. Bruce… Bruce just wanted to see, to see his child, and to know that Jason… Jason was alive.

He broke in, knowing Raven and Jason were out, Oracle had taken the liberty of hacking into Jason’s security for him and he gently shut the door behind him as he looked around.

It was by no means a large apartment.

Rather cozy, with an open design for practicality. Bruce noticed immediately there was a bookshelf on every wall and there were bookshelves for dividers. Soundlessly he walked to the bookshelf he saw being the divider between what was the living area and an office. He smirked seeing the rolltop desk there, vintage, and so very Jason; who had always seemed to have a love of the Manor’s antiques.

He paused at a picture of Raven in Mets gear, mini-shorts, and a smile on her normally stoic features. They were at Citi Field, and it was a candid shot of Raven; obviously she had no way of knowing Jason was taking the photo; it was clear in her smile and the wild way her black hair was flying. Still Bruce smirked, Jason had it framed, and resting on his desk; he had known Jason long enough to know that if it was important Jason was going to put it somewhere accessible. Bruce was more shocked though seeing the picture of him and Jason when Jason had been Robin and so damn tiny. It broke a piece of his heart knowing that that was his boy and he had ruined his relationship with Jason. Still he left the desk though he was tempted to rifle through it.

He looked over the shelves, books in just about every language littered the shelves. He could not really distinguish who’s was who’s here, for he knew both Jason and Raven were readers. There were a few odd mementos here and there: tickets from the zoo, a jar of seashells, a baseball; signed, another jar of seashells (there was probably a story there that Bruce didn’t know if he’d ever be privy to), there was a strange flower blooming, another photo, Jason with Raven and Victor at a ballgame; all of them were smiling at the posed shot, another photo of both Raven and Jason asleep in grass, books in hand and neither looked uncomfortable as Jason used Raven for a pillow, a photo of them standing together, smiling like dorks, drenched, in wetsuits, boards in hand, obviously the photo recent and there was bold scrawl congratulating them on three years. Three years Bruce hadn’t even been aware of.

He looked away and continued inspecting the apartment. It was softer tones, grays and blues mostly, occasionally greens, but there were some creams. The sofa was cream with it’s matching chairs, and set up in front of an impressive entertainment system; complete with a  record player, and a collection of records ranging in jazz to a few rock n roll. Few photos hung on the walls, all of them of cars, planes, and motorcycles, but there were some shots of ruins and the ocean gracing the walls. A banner for the Mets was up, then there was a banner right across from it for the Gotham Knights.

There was a white board which had Bruce pausing.

Spicy Japanese Steak or Thai Mango? ~ J

Both, left overs. ~R

Kay, will have both when I see you again. ~J

Thanks. ~R

Bruce softened a bit before he looked at the kitchen and island. The entire apartment was maple floors, and very pale, but the table, and cabinets, all furniture wood, it was a deep, dark, red, and the counter top this almost white butcher block. He was a bit shocked noticing the red brick wall, and then there was a reading nook; matching the cream couch in color. There were bold red drapes, and Bruce walked to the cabinets. He looked through them, seeing the best cookware, the plates were red, and the glasses all well taken care of. Everything spoke of care.

He found a Knights mug, and then a Mets mug, both in the dishwasher.

Continuing on his look he paused at a vintage looking black and white bathroom, bold red towels and floor mats again, but other wise the room was a black and white theme. The tiles looked like the twenties and thirties, there was a cast iron tub, with a shower head, and black shower curtain. He looked at the odds and ends that were Jason and Raven and wondered how he could miss this. The paused at the only art here, it was a framed set of sticky notes:

-Clean Up The Hair; Lady!

-Yes Dear.

Bruce paused at a hamper, opening it to see it labeled, whites, colors. He chuckled then walked into the guest bedroom, it was more of a gym really. He saw a punching bag, a few case things Jason had, a make shift desk, there was a mat on the ground, and a yoga matt in the corner of the tiny spade. It seemed more like an undecided use room than a guest bedroom.

Shutting that door Bruce walked to what was obviously Jason and Raven’s bedroom, he paused at the door. Breaking into their apartment was a violation as it was, but their room, it seemed off limits; even to him. Still he steeled himself before he walked in. There were more books here. Two dressers, a small closet; equally divided. Raven did not seem to be a clothes hoarder like the other girls. The bed was again, a combination of blue red and grey; it actually looked very tasteful. The bed was neatly made all throw pillows were up and on it. The books on the nightstand were drastically different; helping him decipher who slept where. Raven slept near the wall, Jason slept nearest the window and door. There was a bamboo plant on the dresser, and a few other knickknacks. There were three tires making up Jason’s nightstand, Bruce chuckled when he recognized the tires Jason had stolen. Raven’s night stand was a shelf, and littered with her school books and notebooks. He left it be.

Walking back into the main living area he was shocked to open a door and see a dryer and washer, with a tiny ironing board on the door. Shutting the closet he looked around the space. It was packed full of everything that made Jason and Raven, and yet it did not feel cluttered. But rather homey. He made a note that he’d have to come around again when things between him and Jason were better. Bruce walked out the front; bold red, door and walked down the street as he pondered what this meant for his family and Jason.

He hadn’t learned anything new about Jason, persay, but that was definitely Jason’s home, and it was his safe zone. Bruce would have to learn to accept that his second son might never come home. That apartment had been a home. And he was impressed as neither Jason nor Raven seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

He was greatly relieved seeing that as he knew Raven was not the happiest creature and Jason was proned to anger and violence. He had rightfully worried they would bring out the worst in each other, but instead was pleasantly surprised to see they brought out the best in each other.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason dropped his keys in his basket for the keys, by the door below the message board, and walked to his kitchen, dropping his bags there and then he pulled a beer from the fridge before he sighed. He would start on dinner now, have it ready when Rae got home from class, and then they would have a nice long chat about his next job. Sighing he pulled off his coat and decided that February sucked; epically, and then he paused.

He stared at the minute shift in the picture of him and Raven sleeping in the park, which had him frowning.

He hoped to God Bruce stayed the fuck away! Jason dropped his jacket on the bed before he got to cooking.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Raven walked into her apartment, dropped her bag by the front entrance, kicked off her boots; decided she hated the cold before she was skipping to her bedroom to steal one of her boyfriend’s hoodies and wool socks! Oh she was cold! She skittered into the bedroom, sliding onto the bed to stop before she snagged what she wanted, shimmied out of jeans and into leggings before yanking on wool socks then walking out to face her boyfriend as she tried vainly to warm her nose.

“Cold little bird?” he smiled.

She glowered at her human heater. “What’s for dinner?” she asked instead as she clambered up the bar.

“So now you’re home and demand I feed you?”

“Yes, I want food!” she declared in a monotone before he leaned over with a smirk and kissed her lightly.

“Welcome home little bird.”

“Welcome home handsome, now food, I am starved.”

[antics-pedantic]

RALLY CO. #1 - RALLYING CRY

          The Fine Foxhole was a popular jazz lounge, tucked away into the art deco styled urban jungle of Arcadia, Maryland. But one had to hear about it via word-of-mouth to get in. And that was how Dannik Djannik knew of it.

          Dannik Djannik was a pale Polish man, with a mustache connecting to mutton-chop sideburns. He wore two fancy watches and jeweled rings on left and right index and middle fingers. But never chains: In his time as one of the city’s go-to people for getting highly sought-after items, he learned that being the best fence in the city was dangerous work. To that end, he’d also hired a bodyguard who didn’t talk much, and wore sunglasses at all hours, even at night.

          Going to the Fine Foxhole meant Djannik would get his entertainment for the night. But it was also a means of meeting with potential clients. As the slow piano number gave way to a lively swing band, his client appeared: A tall figure in a trenchcoat, with russet brown dark skin, and black hair in a ponytail, wearing lipstick of a similar shade to her hair, but it gleamed under the light hanging over Djannik’s booth. Seated, the newcomer removed their hat.

          “And who do I have the pleasure of addressing tonight?”

          “Miss Felix Basra.” said the woman. She was of Pakistani descent, and was in her early twenties. She kept on her coat and leather gloves, features stern.

          “Well Miss Basra. I’m more than excited to personally give you this piece, after the generous purchases you’ve made for me in the last few weeks.”

          “But of course, Djannik. From what you’ve told me, it is of some considerable interest. I understand a notable crime lord uses it?”

          Dannik Djannik gave a big grin. His bodyguard glanced over momentarily, looking at Felix, before the dealings resumed. From his jacket, Dannik took out a small case and slid it across the table to Felix, who caught it. When she opened it, her eyes widened in astonishment: It was a set of three darts. Each pointed tip glossy from some sort of secretion carefully applied to it. On the other end, colored “feathers” distinguished each type of dart, likely to whoever they were utilized by. And Felix recognized them immediately.

          “Familiar to you?”

          “You could say I’ve had a prior encounter.” Felix muttered. “Are you certain these are from the source I specified?”

          “Of course! Our promise was that I would give you the tools of the Golden Shadow’s assassins.”

          Just then, the bodyguard nudged Djannik, gesturing for him to keep it down.

          “Wait.” said Felix. “You also said you’d provide me with one of their trademark daggers.”

          Djannik gulped.

          “Well, frankly that’s even more high value than a few darts. The reward must match the risk…”

          “I have, every time. Haven’t I?”

          “The deal has changed. They don’t give those daggers out to just anyone.”

          “Oh, I know. Because I saw one of such rank go after someone I know.”

          With that, Djannik tugged on his shirt collar, and had to get up.

          “C’mon, shades. We are doing some serious leaving now. Bring more money next time, Miss Basra.”

          But as Djannik sauntered off, Felix could see that the man was clutching something in his jacket. Djannik and his bodyguard were headed for the backdoor out of the establishment. For a moment, the bodyguard glanced back and spotted Felix, but he made no effort to stop her. Though it confused Felix, she endeavored to follow them anyway. But when she got outside, what she saw astounded her.

          “My word!”

          Djannik was under attack. Several masked thugs had set upon him, his bodyguard fighting them off alone with his fists. At the flash of a long knife, Felix produced a weapon of her own: A short baton with a hook like fixture, known in martial arts as a jutte. And with it, she expertly caught the knife and disarmed one of Djannik’s attackers. Felix and the bodyguard charged forward, fighting off every one of them.

          “Enough! Return the sacred dagger, or perish!”

          One of the thugs brandished a saber, and caught Felix by surprise. She was able to catch the sword’s blade by the hook of her jutte, but the sword slinger only pressed the attack. But just as quickly, the attacker fell suddenly. And by the gleam of a silver blade and round-framed glasses, Felix had been saved.

          “Mr. Callahan?...”

          Felix couldn’t believe it. Her mentor, occult detective Solomon Callahan had appeared. He looked to be in his forties or fifties, his hair steel grey from age and countless adventures. He was clad in a swamp green three-piece suit, and he held a silver blade that he was sliding back into its sheath, which doubled as his cane. She had known the man for years: Her aunt Malika was Solomon’s police liaison, and doubly Felix’s caretaker.

          “Your girlfriend Georgia told me you might be here.” said Solomon. “What in god’s name were you thinking?!”

          “I was thinking this.”

          Felix crouched down, taking something from the felled swordsman. The sight of it made Solomon gasp.

          “I’ve been following leads for a while.” said Felix. “These are the Golden Shadow’s men. Dannik Djannik has one of their sacred daggers.”

          “I see it, but I can’t believe it...” said Solomon, taking the object in question from Felix: It was a kind of medallion. These street hoodlums were initiates of the crime lord known only as “The Golden Shadow.” And Solomon knew him well.

          “I’m just in this to find the assassin that hurt Auntie Malika. But people seem to be wary about discussing the Golden Shadow.”

          “I’ve feared this day for some time…” admitted Solomon. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

          “Wait. The dagger!”

          But when Felix turned, Djannik was out cold. The dagger was missing, along with two of the Golden Shadow’s men, and Djannik’s own bodyguard.

          “They’ve vanished!”

          “Trust me, Felix. The trail is not yet cold. And you won’t have to seek it alone.”

          The two took to Solomon’s roadster. The car went speeding through the city streets, and eventually to Solomon’s sizable upstate estate. As far as anyone knew, he lived there alone, and a chunk of it was dedicated to his library of fringe studies. One did not become an occult detective without sufficient familiarity with the paranormal.

          “My last clash with the Golden Shadow was quite some time ago. I haven’t heard much about him since. But if those were his minions, then he was the one who masterminded tonight’s attack.”

          “But who is the Golden Shadow really, Mr. Callahan?”

          “The alias has circulated for decades. Centuries. It’s nearly as old as time. Synonymous with the vices of mankind, and how one might profit upon them. In my encounters with him, I believe he is denizen of long sunken Atlantis. A necromancer at that in search of ultimate power.”

          Now that was a far cry from what Felix had been dealing with so far. Mostly street level crimes and mysteries on her own. Occasionally someone might have dabbled in the paranormal, but not so consistently as a nemesis. Not like what Solomon Callahan dealt with. The two entered the building. When they arrived, there was another young lady there about Felix’s age, perhaps younger by at least a year or so. She had silver hair accentuated by a red hairband, with pearl grey eyes that looked weary, and wary. She had on a loose long-sleeved shirt, and a long skirt, carrying bracelets and necklaces in her hands. When Solomon reappeared, she beamed. But at the sight of Felix, the poor girl could not help but shrink behind Solomon once he was close. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, or was one herself.

          “It’s alright, Katrina. Felix is one of my other students. She studied under me as an investigator.”

          The girl named Katrina remained behind Solomon. It was then that Felix relaxed her stern features. Felix hung up her coat, and took off her gloves. Now she had on a dress shirt and pants, along with a cozy black, white and purple sweater vest.

          “My name is Felix Basra. Any friend of Mr. Callahan’s is one of mine too.”

          Katrina gave a little nod, and shuffled from behind Solomon.

          “Bonsoir. My name is Katrina Kafka… I study the mind with Monsieur Callahan.”

          “Katrina is a psychic, like myself.” explained Callahan. “Do you feel comfortable demonstrating, Katrina?”

          Katrina nodded more quickly now. Her enthusiasm grew, and she began to levitate the various pieces of jewelry she carried. They floated out of her palms, before gliding onto her wrists and around her neck.

          “Katrina’s specialty is telekinesis. We can also perform telepathy and observe spirits as mediums. And if we feel daring, we practice other abilities!”

          “Oh, he is too kind.” Giggled Katrina. “He found me at home… back in France. I struggled to control my abilities, but he has offered me a place here while I figure them out.”

          “It’s not quite a mansion, bit cramped for that… I didn’t expect very many overnight, let alone long-term guests, so I dedicated it more to work.” admitted Solomon. “But Felix my dear: As one of my past students, I would like to extend my assistance, as well as that of Katrina’s to your cause.”

          “As always, I thank you for your insights.” said Felix. “But outside of information, I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

          “And I know you’re too stubborn not to run towards the danger. Your aunt and I were the same way.” said Solomon. “What I’m offering you is help. Perhaps I might be getting older—all the stress I’ve put myself through over the years hasn’t helped… But as I said: You are not my only student. And I don’t simply refer to Katrina: Three of my pupils, who each sought out my knowledge each in different areas, live in the city! Adventurers at heart. I want to begin training you all together as a group.”

          “Like you and your old friends in the Rally Company?”

          Solomon nodded.

          “It’s been too long since explorers, investigators, any and all manner of adventurers have come together for common causes. Individually you are all formidable individuals in the making. But I believe that in order to address new challenges, and difficult problems such as thwarting the Golden Shadow, you must band together. Form a new Rally Co., as we did in our day.”

          Felix nodded.

          “Where do we start?”

          “You will find your new allies at Century University. Take my roadster. Katrina will accompany you. I will stay here and set about finding your next lead.”

          Solomon tossed Felix his car keys. Katrina set forth outside to take to the car. But before Felix left, Solomon addressed her one more time.

          “She is powerful. But she struggles with her confidence and needs… support. Give her that, and I know there is nothing you two cannot accomplish.”

          “And if these allies you’ve got for us are as remarkable as you make them out to be, we’ll achieve damn near the impossible.” said Felix. “We’ll be back right away.”

          Felix hurried out to join Katrina and they were back to the city towards the university where their mysterious new companions were at work on their next adventure. And as promised, Solomon took to his study to begin seeking out a means of learning more about the Golden Shadow: Perhaps an incantation of scrying, or remote viewing using his psychic powers. But once more he found himself unable to locate his foe, or any of his sinister machinations, working at it for a time.

          “Detective… Psychic… Warlock… you are atrocious at all of these things!”

          The voice sounded as clear as day. Hard to believe it was telepathy.

          “Damn you. Couldn’t stay dead, could you?!” thought Solomon. There was venom in his veins. Or rather, in his thoughts.

          “Death is a fate even you will eventually succumb to, if not in battle against me, then perhaps in the quiet of your bed. Few of your former adventuring party are around, and no amount of meddling kids will change that.”

          The Golden Shadow’s psychic impression was so strong, he almost seemed to appear in the room. Solomon scowled, but knew he could not attack him. His estate had sufficient magic safeguards in place, all seen to by Solomon himself.

          “Astral project here to haunt me or my charges and you’ll find yourself in the throes of rightful doom, you fiend.”

          “Bah! I need not bother.” sneered the Golden Shadow. “As we speak, I loose upon your ilk my men and a monster. One you are acquainted with.”

          Solomon’s eyes widened.

          “What manner of cryptid?...”

          “Perhaps you might recall them from before you met the girl during your jaunt to France. The countryside was littered with them!”

          Without thinking, Solomon extended a hand and let loose a green streak of lightning from his palm—a powerful mystic bolt. But the Golden Shadow merely laughed, and the sound of his wretched, raspy voice gradually fading. The occult detective pressed his index and middle fingers to the temple of his head, trying desperately to offer a telepathic message to Katrina.

          “Katrina… Katrina, please! Let this find you in time!”

[eydisian]

Motivation behind the setting

i hate the stock standard “medieval fantasy” british/west europe castles n forests garbage. it’s fine, and i can tolerate it i guess, but it just fails to excite my imagination as much as i’d like. maybe it’s a side effect of boring DMs and bad authors, but traditional medieval settings are just not interesting enough, to me. plus i know them like the back of my hand already, there’s nothing new about the setting that could jump out at me in a game.

so Eydís, and the surrounding countryside, are heavily based on turkish islamic and hindu architecture & culture. as a white person, much of my understanding is incredibly limited but by choosing a culture i’m unfamiliar with, i’m forced to research and learn! this has honestly been the most exciting part of it for me, looking up culturally and historically accurate fashions, learning more about monuments and historical buildings, figuring out what the core social values and etiquette are, and so on.

adapting that to a homebrew setting with particular adjustments to account for the really white-centric bullshit that D&D itself was built upon has been... interesting. because a lot of the adjustments i’ve made to eliminate racist and sexist allegories (back in 2e and again in 5e), such as removing drow as a “race” entirely and adapting them as a strange mythology, have been easy enough of a call to make, but others are not. a lot of the more “monstrous” races like hobgoblins and orcs have always carried a lot of physical traits that are undeniably there because of anti-black racism.

drow had the “black skin” and “violent feminist matriarchy” two-for-one whammy, hence removing them from my setting entirely, because there’s no easy way to adapt them to a more modern, less sexist, less racist interpretation. (if, in the future, i come up with a decent answer, i already have a plot that will allow for their future inclusion... just not right now). either they’re literally dark-skinned “black” elves and thus its a “the black people are evil” trope, or they’re black-colored white-people elves which is blackface, and in either case they’ve got that “kill all men” and “women are above all others” thing which, in a trans-inclusive setting, gets messy real quick even without the obvious anti-feminist bullshit going on.

orcs and hobgoblins, of course, have the broad-face, broad-nose, kinky hair texture thing which is clearly description of black americans and others of african descent. so what do you do with the “all hobgoblins are evil green/grey people” thing? i don’t know. make them more inhumanly monstrous, i suppose, to remove any traces of connection to a human race? i’m tentatively trying that out. but orcs, and specifically half-orcs, are a playable race with a negative intelligence stat adjustment. what that says is “black people are less intelligent than the other races, that is to say, white people.”

so i’m going to impress upon my players that intelligence is not IQ or education. a low-intelligence character is not stupid, but possibly had less access to certain kinds of education compared to more intelligent characters. by shifting intelligence from a raw, born-into-being ability, (and by extension all stats being earned rather than given), it says more about the character’s history and upbringing than about the entire race. so perhaps those of orcish descent are not simply less intelligent by nature, but have trouble being accommodated in primarily human-sized classrooms.

maybe they just really hate math and science but are still competent readers who enjoy a good piece of literature. maybe it’s the reverse. maybe they have poor memory skills, despite a wonderful and enriching education. maybe its a reflection of a cognitive difficulty not related to knowledge, but more like trouble focusing or studying. all of these things would absolutely explain why a “low-intelligence” character would have done poorly trying to be a wizard (which requires extensive study) or has a spell-casting penalty (you need to focus and remember proper order of steps).

i really, really enjoy the incorporation of ability statistics into character backstory, because people often take for granted the numbers as “my character was born naturally talented this way.” none of us were born with an intelligence score of 18. but the people who went on to grad school have an 18 (or higher!). body builders and the olympic strongmen (and women) weren’t born with an 18 in their strength score. they had to work hard for it, and keep training to maintain that strength. think about that.

and now we come to gender and sexuality and all that jazz.

so, clearly if i’m having everyone randomize their skin color (all races have the full spectrum of human skin tones... so a dark-skinned blonde elf might be colloquially called a drow elf), gender itself should be open to interpretation as well. in Eydís, gender and sex have a roughly three-way equal split. 33% of the population is cis male, 33% of the population is cis female, and 33% is everything else: intersex, transgender, nonbinary, etc. while yeah, that does mean there’s a 2/3rds majority to cis people, a 2/3rds majority seems to fit a lot better than the very vast (apparent) majority of the real world. that said, other countries may have varying amounts of gender diversity just like they may have varying amounts of racial diversity. Eydís itself is a cultural megahub, and it makes more sense to have a larger and more equally distributed mix of people (including those we consider minorities irl).

enough about the people of Eydís at large. let’s get into the technical crap.

Eydís is the capital city of the country of Adylae, an arid to semi-arid south-eastern country. Eydís itself resides on the eastern coast, settled on top of a cliffside peninsula. the city is the seat of the royal family, though most of the workings of the city itself are run by a parliament of council members elected by their respective guilds. these guilds in turn are run and populated by the tradesfolk of the city. the royal family and their advisory table take care of national and international concerns, entrusting the capital to the parliament. the division of rule in this way allows for ease of function for both parties, and it is only during times of great duress that either group involves themselves with the business of the other.

the largest monument in Eydís is the Hall of All Gods, a multi-theistic centre that predates the city by a good 100 years. it was built with the intent to end a centuries-long religious war that shook the continent by providing a place where all gods were represented equally. in truth, “evil” religions are not allowed a space of worship within the Hall because it contradicts the doctrines of all the others (those considered “good” or “neutral” by mechanical standards). anyone of faith who is not currently represented in the hall may approach and request an altar space to set up. many religions share rooms, as their significant natural symbols are the same (sunlight, trees, water, moonlight, fire, etc) and while it is meant to be a place of peace and equality, there is often tension and dissent, particularly where religion spills over into the realm of politics.

Eydís itself is surrounded by a thick wall with three western gates allowing entrance into the city. the wall itself is approximately 150m high and between 50 and 100 ft thick. the city proper is actually elevated above two previous levels of construction, as space within the walls is limited. most middle-class residents live in the central residential district, though there are also apartments and homes outside of that. the eastern district is where the estates of noble and notable families reside, along with the palace itself. the main entrance to this district is through the Hall square, and other entrances are gated and guarded.

below the main level is the undercity, where most of the poor live and work. very little sunlight reaches this level except through wells and skylights. some of this level, and the sublevel below it, are flooded to provide a sewer and waterway system to the city at large.