#I've removed the glowing version in light of this

[bi-the-wei]

Here ya go! I colored him.

[yuri-is-online]

Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: (so uhhhh Jamil and Ace were supposed to be a part of the original post but I cut them out because I had to go to bed but forgot to remove the tags, sorry </3) they/them pronouns used for Yuu, sibling snark (Jamil and Ace) vs light angst (the Shroud parents), light reference to certain events in Ch. 6, but nothing specific. If you liked this please check out the first version on my masterlist.

Jamil

"Oh yeah, you're Najma, right?" The younger girl looks pleasantly surprised you have remembered her from your visit to the Scalding Sands.

"Well that makes this a lot easier, do you know where Jamil is?" You internally cheer at how polite she is, some of the other families you have been dealing with today have really been testing your patience. "I've been looking everywhere for him, but couldn't seem to find a good opportunity to sneak up on him." Or maybe not, that doesn't sound like she hasn't seen him at all, why is she asking you?

"According to my schedule he's probably in the gym for the club activities program." You confirm with your clipboard and Najma sighs.

"Lame, he's gonna be all sweaty and gross." She checks her phone as you sneak a glance at Grim trying to figure out how much longer you have before you need to find something shiny to distract him. "Actually maybe I can just ask you." You turn your attention back to Najma who seems to be tapping her cheek with her phone and sizing you up. "Is there anywhere to get snacks on campus?"

"Now you're talkin!" Cheers Grim, bringing a really bright smile to Najma's face and a tentative one to yours. "Mr. S's Mystery Shop's got all the tuna you can ask for!"

"And other things to." You helpfully add and Najma happily begins to follow.

"So what do you like to do?" she asks almost ten seconds into your walk. "Like what fun stuff is there to do around campus?"

"Shouldn't you be asking your brother?" You ask, thankful Grim is too caught up in his tuna thoughts to make any snarky comments.

"About you?" Najma laughs and you feel a bit silly. "Nah he hates being honest about things like that."

"Well I don't have much free time..." but you manage to list off some things that you like as Najma nods, still tapping her phone on her chin for some reason.

"What about food?" she stops fiddling with her phone and just goes straight to texting on it as the Mystery Shop comes into view. "I know Jamil's food looks boring but it tastes super good."

"It sure does." Grim says, well more like whines. "He only ever gives it to Yuu and gets mad when I eat it though."

"That's because he asked for my opinion, not yours." It's a petty thing to say, but hey Jamil's a good cook. Najma seems to agree, giggling before you both jump ten feet backwards as a strangely shaped blur nearly knocks you over.

"NAJMA!" Jamil is indeed, sweaty and gross looking, his basketball jersey is practically drenched through, almost like he ran the entire way to here from the gymnasium. He's doubled over, hands on his knees as you fumble around looking for the water bottle Crewel made you bring with you earlier which he gratefully takes.

"Oh hey what are you doing here Jamil?" You don't know Najma super well, but she almost sounds disappointed to see her brother. "Prefect said you were at the gym."

"Don't start." Jamil passes you back the empty water bottle, hesitating just a bit before he lets you take it. "She didn't do anything weird, right? Hasn't said anything strange?" You blink in confusion.

"No? She's just been asking a bunch of questions about stuff. Jamil relaxes, letting you take the bottle with a genuine smile-

And gets cut off by a shutter sound effect making you both turn towards Najma, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone camera.

"Whoops thought I turned that off."

Ace

"Well, well, well, just what should I do with you?"  The ginger stranger is stroking his chin with an all too familiar look that puts you on edge, not because you think he is going to try anything illegal (yet) but because you can practically see the collar on this guy already.  There really is no beating around the bush about who this guy is, even if you really wished you had some plausible deniability.   "I could tell you about that time I told him if he kissed a frog it would turn into royalty and he actually did it-"  Too much information he technically just did.  "Or what about that time he only wanted to eat carrots so I freaked him out by saying he was turning into one because his hair was orange-"  So is yours big brother Trappola!  And where the hell is Grim he is supposed to be suffering through this with you.  "Nah those are too boring- oh I got it!"  Before you can break out in a dash for the mirror chamber, big brother Trappola claps an unintentionally (you hope) firm hand on your shoulder.  "Listen to this- wait I didn't introduce myself I-"

"Ace's brother."  He seems genuinely taken aback.  "He talks about you all the time." 

"Oh does he?"  Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that, little Trappola's ego was insufferable already, older Trappola's has got to be worse right.  It's so obvious you can't even bring yourself to put the question mark on it.

"Funny you mention that, from my end it seems like all he ever talks about is Yuu."  He makes a big show of looking you over.  "Always talking about what a pain it is to look after you, but he never does stop."  He maneuvers himself to look directly into your eyes.  “You must be pretty special then, right?”

“Didn’t you used to go here?”  You ask, crossing your arms and fixing your best “not today Trappola” look onto your face.

“Sure did!  Also got put into Heartslabyul, must run in the family, we’re all a bit mad.”  Older Trappola breaks eye contact for just a second, something dancing on the tip of his tongue you have no desire to entertain at all.  You just want to ditch this overgrown root veg on his brother and then take a nap.

“So then, just to be clear, you don’t need me to show you around.”  You fumble around your clipboard looking for a map anyway.

“Oh no I absolutely need you to do that.”  You like it when Ace plays dumb better, at least it’s cute.  “Would be a really bad thing if you just left me all alone and I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.”  He stands up straight, looking off into the distance behind you with a dramatic sigh.  “Somewhere like Ramshackle Dorm maybe?  I hear that’s one of Ace’s-”

 A surprisingly strong pair of arms wraps you into an embrace from behind.

“Back off.” snaps Ace, a lot harsher than either of you have heard before “This one’s mine.”

Idia

"Dear! Dear! Come look it's the prefect!" A very excited very pink woman in a sundress and comically oversized sunglasses beckons to a very tall, very out place looking man who is... also wearing comically oversized sunglasses.

"The who?" he sheepishly walks over to his wife and gives you a little wave, clearly out of place but trying his best.

"The prefect! Ortho and Idia's friend." The realization seems to hit both you and Mr. Shroud at the same time, causing you both to retreat just a bit. You because you feel desperately dumb for not noticing the flaming hair and him because-

Well you hope it's because of the whole house thing but who knows.

"Oh sorry. Um we're Mr. and Mrs. Shroud but you probably already guessed that it's really nice to meet you." You awkwardly shake hands while Grim hides behind your legs.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Asks Mrs. Shroud. "I'd hate to interrupt things too much."

"Oh no that's not really an issue for me." You look down at Grim for half a second before adding. "For us."

"I'm sorry to hear that." whispers Mr. Shroud, gently taking his wife's hand and you stand around in silence for a little bit, trying to figure out how to walk the conversation from the ledge it's found itself on.

"Um if there isn't anything you need help with-"

"Idia speaks really highly of you." Mrs. Shroud says gently, and you have to keep yourself from fainting from shock. Idia speaking highly of- no forget that. Idia talks to his parents? And you were the conversation topic? If she had said it was Ortho that would make sense but Idia? "I know he can be a bit blunt, but he treasures your friendship. And as his mother, I am very grateful he has someone as kind as you in his life."

"We both are." whispers Mr. Shroud. "If you need help while you are here please don't hesitate to ask us." And with that they leave you and Grim

~~~

[Fullmetal] hey ortho said u ran into our parents irl

[Fullmetal] srry that had to be awkward

[yuu] it's cool

[yuu] I mean they spooked Grim but they were nice lol

[Fullmetal] UNACCEPTABLE

[Fullmetal] ...so do you think that he'd be cool to come over so I can like

[Fullmetal] apologize

[Fullmetal] u know for the stress

[yuu] and not for talking about me behind my back (￣ε￣)

[read at 6:57 pm]

[Fullmetal is typing... ... ...] [... ... ...] [... ... ...]

"I don't need to apologize if I said nice things... right?"

[deepdreamnights]

A friendly wizard and style reference.

Midjourney has just released both the version 6 of its niji anime engine and the first version of its "style reference" tool.

Functionally this is a variation of the image prompting system (explained here), in which breaks a submitted image down into the 'token language' the AI uses internally and uses that as a supplement to a text prompt. "Style Reference" (or 'sref') lets you do this with up to three images, only with only the tokens associated with 'style' being drawn upon.

This is not to be confused with style transfer, a much older and very different AI art process.

But what is a style in this context? And how does it affect generation?

Prompt: a blue axolotl-anthro wizard in a red-and-yellow swirl-pattern robe, holding a sheleighleigh made of purple wood and a potion full of glowing green energy drink. A blue-and-green ladybug familiar stands near his feet, white background, fullbody image

Settings: --niji 6, --style raw --s 50 --seed 1762468963

Here, I've tested the same seed and prompt with a number of reference images.

My semiorganized ramblings under the fold

The first thing I note is that style reference affects the gen so much that same-seed/different style ref comparisons are kind of pointless. Way too much of pose, composition and content changes for it to matter, so for future style ref tests, I'm probably going to drop the seeds.

The second thing I note is that there are certain limitations. You need to change up your prompt for things like photography, and the system interprets styles using its own criteria, not ours. If image prompting misinterprets something, so will style ref, but perhaps not in the same way.

This is notable for the one prompted with a scan from the Nuremberg Chronicle (first row). It recognizes that its a woodcut and emulates that general vibe nicely, but MJ is highly tuned for aesthetics, and emulating real world jank and clumsiness is a weak area. This is literally the first printed (european at least) book with illustrations. Every example thereafter is building on that skillset, so the dataset for woodcuts is going to be largely of a higher apparent quality.

In short, with Midjourney, additional prompt work is needed to replicate the look of early jank or intentionally 'ugly' art styles, and even as recent as v6 I've had no luck with things like midcentury Hanna-Barbereesque cheap TV animation styles or shitty 1990s CGI.

Style reference can help, I've gotten some pretty good cheap 80s-90s TV animation looking stuff from v6 niji and style ref in my early tests:

Color observations: Absent specific requests in the prompt, SREF will stick pretty close to the palette and lighting conditions of the referenced image. With such instructions, you get blending, so the one referencing the okapi fakemon (second row from bottom), for instance, has a lot of colors the reference image doesn't have, but they're in similar in vibrancy and saturation.

One limitation, however, is it doesn't apply to the aspects of the gen that come from any image prompts, so it will always blend the style of the style reference with the style aspects inherited from the image prompt, and that is very strong compared to the style ref.

Using the dog as the image prompt, and the TFTM reformatting as the style prompt, and the text prompt: "a cute older yorkie dog sitting on a bedspread", we get the image on the left. Dropping the image prompt weight to .25 gets us the center option, and removing the image prompt entirely produces the one on the right.

I expect this will be patched eventually, or general image prompting may fall out of favor compared to a combination of style ref and the upcoming character reference option, which will be the same thing, but will only reference the tokens associated with the character in the reference image. Depending on how that works that will have a lot of uses.

Stay tuned for more experiments. There's some good potential for freaky, unexplored aesthetics with combinations of multiple style refs and text prompts.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

!Important!

Hi lovlies! I regret to inform you all that the Twilight Fic for the 200 follower challenge is fighting me tooth and nail, so I'll be focusing on all the emergency works and other requests until a coherent plot can be reached.

ALSO. I've hit a spot of inspiration for another, longer-term project of mine exploring an alternate version of botw. I'm debating posting it to this blog, and I'd like some help deciding.

An excerpt for you lovely people (Under the cut):

The sky was dark, shadowed with magenta-streaked hate that formed a swirling vortex above the barely visible castle. Peals of thunder rumbled in the distance, flashes of lightning illuminating the smoldering landscape in terrifying bursts. An armored figure atop a dappled white and black horse erupted from the neighboring treeline, racing into the field. They yanked the reigns back, and the horse reared with an impressive neigh, skidding to a stop amongst the lonely ruins. Small clouds of breath puffed from the vertical slit in their helmet, dented in more places than the eye could count. The figure dismounted and unsheathed their sword with unusual grace, the polished metal gleaming softly in the faint light. The Hylean crest adorned the pommel, painted a soft gold that seemed to glow with its own light. 

The battle started in an instant. In a flash, a blinking laser focused on the figure’s breastplate, followed by two more on their hip and shin. A whirling sound started as the Guardians primed to fire, rising from their earthy prisons onto creaking joints in desperate need of oiling. Skillfully, the figure reached for their shield, deflecting the first strike with great ease, then somersaulting behind a large section of ruins to avoid the second and third. Two more blasts rang out, the paltry stone walls shuddering on impact, and the figure rolled left, slashing at the approaching guardian’s legs. With a metallic groan, the machine tumbled, leaving space for them to deflect the next strike back into another guardian. A fierce explosion shook the clearing, undoubtedly attracting more foes. The figure turned tail, whistling for their horse, which had bolted when the battle began. 

A neigh sounded, and the figure hopped back on their horse, nudging it into a full gallop as more guardians closed in, aiming their lasers at the retreating figure. Several more explosions rang out, but quickly dissipated with each stride the horse took. 

The figure traveled for an unidentifiable amount of time, skillfully guiding their steed back to the safety of the forest, still headed in the direction of the castle. The night began to close in, a terrible crimson moon blotting out the very sun, filling the remaining sky in putrid burgundy light. Yet the figure rode on, only stopping to slash at the group of Lizalfos in their path, born of the blood moon itself. It was pitch black by the time they reached the first friendly light of the Wetland Stable. 

“Traveler!” an exhausted Lawden, owner of the stable, called as the figure approached, dismounting just outside the main entrance. They padded to the desk, producing a red rupee from the small pouch on their belt, dropping it on the table with their horse’s reins. “Ah– enjoy your rest!”

There was no response, and the figure disappeared into the stable, taking the first available room. Only when the door was closed did a drawn-out sigh leave their lips. With shaking hands, the figure removed their helmet, revealing what appeared to be a nest of hair, two weary eyes, and a stern, cracked mouth. The rest of the armor was next to go, falling to the ground as it was removed rather unceremoniously. Dressed in only their dark undershirt and black trousers, the figure waddled to the bed, flopping down as sleep consumed them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke an hour after dawn. 

While the sky was no less angry–magenta clouds still obscuring the once cerulean atmosphere–it was a far cry from the state it had been a day ago, practically bursting with malice. You cringed at the memory, forcing yourself to the edge of the bed, legs hanging limply as you smacked your cheeks in an attempt to regain some feeling. Your eye twitched when you caught sight of your armor strewn across the floor, cursing yourself for being so careless. There was a distinct ache in your head as you bent to gather the scattered items, gently placing them on the bed before migrating to your traveling pack, practically smushed into the corner in what you could only assume had been a delirious bid for sleep. 

There was a mirror on the same wall, though you dared not look at it until you had run a comb through your hair at least once. Not that you were embarrassed by your appearance, but it was still jarring when you remembered your life before the calamity. Growing up in Lurelin Village had taught you many things–fishing, astronomy, knot work, gambling–though you never expected to use them quite as frequently as you did now. Up until a year ago, you had been an ordinary fisherman’s kid, spending your days on the beach with friends, the boat with your father, or the stable greeting weary travelers. Until a squadron of Guardians swept in from the West, desecrating your village beyond repair. Despite never handling a sword before, you took a stand against the monsters, only to take a laser to the chest in the final moment of the battle as the screams of your family and friends rang out, forever branded to your brain. It was a miracle you hadn’t shot up in the night, scarred breast heaving with stolen life. 

The sun crept up in the sky as you redressed. First, a chainmail shift that once belonged to your father, a forest green surcoat, and your trusty breastplate, followed by the pauldrons, forearm guards, and gauntlets. The boots came last, the polished metal extending to your knees. You flexed your arms, testing for any unwanted tightness, and adjusted the scabbard belt around your waist, pulling it close. Only your helmet remained on the bed, though you left it off–it was too good a morning for that.

The stable was practically buzzing with activity–at least ten travelers mulling around–when you exited the room, b-lining straight for the nearby cooking pot for breakfast. You had enough fish stored to last at least a fortnight, but life on the road left little opportunity to cook your spoils. Plopping down on a nearby log, you tossed a mighty porgy and Hylian rice into the already steaming pot, waiting patiently as it sizzled. Until a cheery voice sounded behind you. 

“Hello there! Do you mind if I sit?”

You shook your head. The log creaked as a burgundy-haired woman took the seat beside you, a large map in her hands. She pulled at it lightly to fluff out the creases. “First time in the Faron Woods? I can’t recall seeing you around before.”

“It isn’t,” you intoned, watching the meat and rice crackle away in the pot. A light breeze blew into the clearing, ruffling your hair like a rowdy sibling. You tipped your head to the map. “It’s good to be prepared.”

“Isn’t it?” The woman laughed, extending a hand for you to shake. “I’m Meeshy, adventurer and fashionista!”

You took her hand, introducing yourself in turn. Meeshy nodded along before sighing. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Misko’s Treasure?”

It felt almost surreal to have a normal conversation with the raging sky, but you weren’t one to rebuke small mercies. “I haven’t.”

“Well, there was a bandit with unparalleled fashion sense named Misko,” you hummed in acknowledgment despite having never heard of such a person. “Legend has it that he collected legendary outfits from all over the world and hid their pieces throughout Hyrule.”

“You seek them?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Well, she had you there. You turned your attention back to the pot, skillfully forming the fish and rice into large balls, packing them closed with stripes of dried seaweed from your village. The smell was divine, and you had to hold yourself back from stuffing the entire thing into your mouth at once. Sure, you had lived like a soldier for the better part of the last year, but it was no excuse to behave like a barbarian. Glancing at Meeshy, you held out the remaining rice ball, though it pained you to potentially part with such a delicious item. Fortunately, she held up her hands, thanking you for the company. You watched her departure with a mouthful of rice and fish, turning back to the fire to examine the burning embers, not unlike the smoldering remains of Lurelin as you crawled through the wreckage, stained in more blood than you could stand. 

In Hyrule, ignorance was bliss. Even Meeshy, a traveler, hadn’t said a peep about the mass in the sky, nor had anyone on your journey. You supposed it was a side effect of living with a two-hundred-year calamity; people became used to misfortune, accepting it into their lives like one would bad weather. Never mind the fact that the supposed Hero of Hyrule hadn’t been seen since the calamity struck, and had all but been pronounced dead. Even stranger, the malice surrounding the castle was stagnant, neither expanding nor contracting in the years you’d observed it. 

The longer you stared at the embers, the angrier you became. Your father had died in flames, barely able to breathe when you managed to pull him from the wreckage. His last words were uttered in your blood-stained lap, a whispered plea for vengeance that continued to haunt your dreams. What could you do but comply with his wishes, which is why you dragged yourself to the smoldering armory, stumbling upon a suit of armor lying on the dirt? Your path was clearer than the Lurelin waters when you donned the scratched metal, blood pouring from the wound on your chest to soak the silver of the breastplate, staining it in the fires of your ire. Pain became secondary to the burden placed upon your shoulders. You would find the Hero, and you would destroy Calamity Ganon, or die trying. 

[lollipencil]

ITPM: What If...Super Moon Siblings?

Decided to try a less Batfam-centric version of this AU. Got another, similar idea planned too. @harleyification, I've prepared something completely different.

Enjoy and be gentle ---

When a light wind followed by a soft thump came from her front porch late at night, Martha Kent was not worried. Her dear Clark occasionally liked to pop in for a visit. A smile on her face, she made her way to the door and opened it.

It wasn't Clark. A young boy was curled on her welcome mat. His clothes were blackened with blood.

As soon as Martha registered what she was seeing, she instantly bent down and scooped up the limb child. "Jon! Clark!" she yelled, not caring about the still wet blood staining her dress as she carried the boy inside.

---

Gotham was somehow just as dark, and darker than Superman had expected. He'd heard the stories about the Rogues and the dangers they pose to even the powerful. But he needed Batman.

Superman flew around for a bit, before touching down on a rooftop. He didn't have to wait long. "What are you doing in Gotham?" Clark jumped, actually jumped, at the sudden voice behind him. Turning sharply (but not as sharply as he could), he faced the Batman. "I've heard some call you the world's greatest detective," Clark managed to not stammer. "What of it?" Batman's heart remained perfectly stable, even as his eyes narrowed.

"I-" Clark composed himself for a moment, "About a day ago, a child was found covered in blood on the doorstep of a farm in Smallville." Suddenly, Clark was aware of possible eavesdroppers, could almost feel eyes on him. He cautiously stepped closer to Batman to whisper: "It was my parents' farm."

Batman went stiff. "I see," he slowly stated, "You believe it was a targeted effort?" "I don't know what to believe," Clark admitted, "By the time we got him medical attention, he had no injuries. But, the blood was confirmed to be his, all of it. And, it was a lot..." Clark remembered the feverish panic that had near consumed him at the sight of his Ma covered that much red. And the boy-

A hand gently but firmly shaking his shoulder brought him back to the rooftop. "Do you have any clues as to how this could have happened?" Batman's voice was softer, more gentle. "I- Yes. Yeah- This was found on the doorstep, they'd missed initually," Clark removed from a pocket in his belt a plastic bag. Something akin to paper was inside, partly stained with blood but with some form of writing on it.

Gently, Batman took the bag, regarded the writing with a considering hum, and tucked it carefully into a pouch. "I'll get you a translation. Give me a week, then meet me on the roof of the GCPD at midnight. A friend of mine will also be there." "Thank you," Clark whispered.

---

It was a good day. Sunlight cast a delicate glow over the fields of Smallville, and the Kent farm had woken up to a fresh new morning.

Jonathan watched as Martha guided their new children on how to feed the chickens. Sure, they weren't legally their children yet, but with how often Clark was visiting that new friend of his, he suspected it wouldn't be long. Especially after that translation.

Honestly, it was more like a paper you'd see in those science journals. At least five pages with pictures and footnotes, carefully formatted. Most of it flew over Jonathan's head, but even he could see the sheer effort that Batman fellow put into it. "You better keep that friend, Clark. He's got a good head on his shoulders," he'd noted to Clark after a quick flick through. Thankfully, he'd also thought to add a brief, plain english translation at the end:

"This child has three souls. They weren't safe in their home. They called to me as travelers, so I claimed them. You have raised a protector before, so my task is as such: raise them the same way. Show them the kindness denied to them. I will do the rest."

Underneath was a name. A whole page was dedicated to who Khonshu was. And, as Jonathan watched Marc causiously pet a hen, he thanked him quietly.

Then, he got up. Time to get to work.

[karoiseka]

10) Stable

((So, This week was a CHORE to get through with work, and I barely had time to write, much less get the screenshots I wanted, especially for this one, so I decided to just submit all of them on time, and have been taking screenshots today while I have a bit of time.

This is for end of 6.0 Endwalker, so major spoilers for that! [and a scene I've wanted to screenshot for a long time now, and will do a bigger version of later]))

Grey stone beneath her feet, grey cracked stone her head, and surrounded by the most brilliant diamond speckled magenta-purple sky, Karo stood. She has made it this far–had forged on despite everything–and still her destination lay so close–yet unreachable. 

The amber stone nearly burned in her hand, clutching it tightly as she stared at Meteion, fire burning in her heart as Ardbert repeated the mantra. 

You must forge on. Never give up hope. We are still here, and will be heard. You are not alone. 

The Echo washed over her, even here in this place depleted of aether, as Y’shtoa’s words reminded her that she could not summon them back to her side. Not–

Yet.  Voice after voice came to her, memories skipping over, searching for the phrase that she needed.  Clarity as Hydaeyn’s voice next whispered in the ear of memory, and Karo's eyes snapped open–laughing desperately as Azem’s summoning circle appeared around her, Emet-Selch’s voice ringing in her internal ear.  Only two of the seven circles glowed in the darkness, before pillars of brilliant light lit the smug face of her enemy. 

The light faded–and two forms towered before her in this time and place so far removed from where she had seen them before. Turning to glance at her, one with enthusiastic joy and echoing her laughter, the other with a deep ever suffering fondness, Karo could feel her heart starting to race.  A melody teasing her senses, just beyond reach for the moment, humming, buzzing in her mind.

As Emet and Hythlodaeus introduced themselves to Meteion, Karo’s laughter continued to bubble up.  Surely she seemed mad, but the joy and hope was slowly bringing color back to her face.  Was this the friendship that Ikarus had treasured so much reflecting down the shards of their soul?  Emet’s theatrics seared into her soul; she would never forget him–or Hythlodaeus–in any of the forms or places that she had met them both.  Hades, the Dark to her Light, she somehow still looked to him with the same fondness, preferring to remember the man she met in Elpis versus the tortured soul of her present day, and the one that had caused her so much pain.

Hythlodaeus called her out of her thoughts as Emet-Selch finished his ultimatum to the bringer of the Final Days.  They were there, called by her, to help.  And they would, in the way they knew best how–bidding her to form the path that they would set their magic to create.  His eyes met hers–topaz to sapphire–and Karo prayed, the song’s melody in her mind starting to clear.

“Ours is the wisdom to weave the fabric of reality!” Hythlodaeus’ melodic voice called out, breaking her reverie.

“Ours is the power to create!” two hands raised and with a snap! the barren stone erupted into a riot of color as Elpis flowers covered the entire pinnacle of where they stood.  Karo swayed as the magic washed over her, and watched as Meteion fell to her knees, cradling a perfect bloom.  Somehow she kept to her feet as Emet-Selch spoke once more, voice proud as he walked to the side of the platform.

“These Elpis blooms serve as proof that this realm is not utterly devoid of hope.  No more can you deny its power.  No more is yours the dominion of despair,” he was gentle as he got with the avatar of despair even as he cracked her ultimate power over their surroundings like a child’s toy, before turning to Karo.

“In case the practical implications were lost on you, you comrades no longer need fight their fight,” Karo had been keeping up somehow with the metaphysical reasons, and tears were already streaming down her face.

“So, go on.  Call them back to your side,” without another thought, and almost without even asking, the summoning circle opened once more around her, seven bright pillars burning in the darkness as bright as her soul.  Seven beams of light that faded into seven heartbreakingly familiar faces, whole, healthy, and alive.  The song in her mind broke into full clarity as Hope became a melody for her to sing.

As the Scion’s voices reached her, each with their own quip or comment, Karo fell to her knees, a mirror of Meteion, clutching the Azem crystal to her chest.  Thank you thank you thank you her soul sang to Azem. To Hydaelyn.  To Hades and Hythlodaeus.  To Ardbert.  To her companions that were blessedly still with her, who had believed in her this entire journey, even when she didn’t believe in herself.  All was right in the universe once more, her heart stabilizing.

G’raha and Thancred reached her first skidding in the flowers kicking up blooms around the trio, pulling her into their joint embrace as they had noticed her fall.  G’raha had seen how she had barely been keeping together on the long journey to this point–and Thancred could obviously see the strain that had been put upon her.  There they stayed, conscious of what was around them, but uncaring and reveling in the fact that they were together once more. 

The rest of the Scions gathered close, and embraced Karo as she stood, wiping away the tears of joy.  Heart beating strong–and finally sure of her path–she squeezed her lover's hands tight as she finally released them and  turned to face Meteion, reaching out a hand.  It would end–had to end.  

Now.

[liquidstar]

april fools is over so now im going to be slash srs instead of slash j. im going to post a little excerpt from one of the oc writing practices ive been doing :) again im not super experienced for a variety of reasons but im doing my best here.

but im going to try and put my self conciousness to the side (thats probably an important part of the practice too, right?) since this isnt final version either way, i can just say im sharing a WIP! so for now it will go the way of most of my other oc stuff..... under the cut

the only context you need is that this would be the opening scene for the story. if i post others i'll have to give more context bc most of them are taken from the middle of something. anyway here goes:

-----

“I love you

I've loved you since the beginning

From when you were only stardust

To when you will rejoin the stars

When everyone will be together again

Understand, you don’t simply live in the universe

You are part of it, taking on a form uniquely alive

You are the universe giving love back to itself

I love you so much”

“Wait!!!”

A lone girl jolts awake, crying a plea into the empty air. Tears stream down her cheeks, as she calls for someone she doesn't know. Her heart aches with a nameless yearning that fades with the memory of her dream. Still, against her will, the emotions linger. A profound sense of love consumes her, an agonizing, grieving love, meant for her. She sighs and wipes away her tears. It was an absurd dream, a ridiculous notion.

As her conscious mind clears, she takes in her surroundings; a forest drowned in the pale blue light of dawn. Her sleeping bag, now encased in dew, was laid on the cold grass. She sits for a while, gazing at the faint sliver of the rising sun’s glow with an indistinct expression, and eventually stands up.

The lone girl begins her daily routine by braiding her hair. With a wave of her hand, she freezes dew on a rock, creating herself a mirror. Her fingers carefully weave her brown locks into a braid, now adorned with a snowflake clip and a scarlet ribbon. She throws on a long blue half-skirt over her shorts, matching her shirt. She forces on a pair of black boots and cuffs on her arm. Lastly, she grabs a moon-themed spear, and she's ready for the day.

Before setting off, she made sure to pack all her belongings, including her numerous hand-drawn maps and a compass. However, she also stops to look into the bag deeper, foolishly expecting to find something new. Instead, she only sighs, "Still no food."

She puts on the backpack and trudges forward anyway, ignoring the hunger pains as best she can. She hums to keep herself distracted.

As she walks, the trees tower above her, shrouding the horizon and taunting her. Birds occasionally fly into view, but seem to disappear in an instant. She wonders if her eyes are playing tricks on her.

The lone girl scribbles on her maps, trying to record a labyrinth of identical tree trunks and twisted paths. This proves useless, as this elliptical forest has her going in circles. Exasperated, she fidgets with her compass, only to see the needle is frantically twitching around. She presses it gently to her forehead and quietly complains, “Don't tell me you're broken…”

Her train of thought was cut short by the sudden sound of running water, so loud she can’t fathom how she’s only now begun to hear it. She decided to put off one problem for another. Following the sound through some shrubs, she quickly finds the source.

Her spear at the ready, she approaches the stream. Scanning its depths for signs of fish, she walks cautiously. Her posture was awkward, her expression was uncertain, betraying her lack of experience. She held her spear to her chest with both arms as she encroached the water’s edge.

She inhales in preparation, removes her skirt and boots, and enters the water with slow, careful steps. The very surface of the stream begins to freeze as it makes contact with her skin. Tiny, thin crystals of ice form as she steps further in. Breathing deeper, as she tries to control the frost, she makes her way to the center of the stream. She stands waiting for fish.

Rather than throwing her spear to hunt, like the intended purpose, she stabs at the water. She’s not good at this, however, and only ends up scaring other potential prey away. She makes several attempts at this but is unsuccessful each time. Refusing to quit, her repeated strikes become more desperate and uncoordinated with each failure. Her growing frustration only makes the water freeze deeper, eventually solidifying around her legs. She yelps, now in a panic, and begins to frantically stab at the ice to free herself.

A mess.

Escaping this ordeal, the lone girl abandons any further attempt at fishing. It probably isn't her calling anyway. She trudges on, lost, wet, cold, and hungry.

She looks at her compass again, her face reflecting in its glass. “You're broken,” she tiredly states, as she feels her eyes begin to well with tears.

“No! No no no! Don't cry! Don't cry Polaris,” The lone girl, Polaris, reassures herself, “Last time you cried you froze your eyelids shut, and that really hurt,” She whines aloud.

Polaris takes a deep breath, slaps her cheeks, and swallows her tears. She elects to follow the river, her only hope of escape, pursuing the promise of a village just beyond this enigmatic forest. She daydreams of a warm meal in a cozy restaurant, and maybe a cold desert too. A glimmer of determination returns to her stride, as she continues her hum from before.

[boxturret]

Slizers vs Throwbots: Regional differences

Its well known that the Slizer line was changed quite a bit for its release in North America. The line was renamed Throwbots, the individual set names were all changed (Honestly this seems to be an okay change, as apart from Judge I quite like the new names, and this doesn't seem to be an uncommon opinion), and the setting was changed.

One very subtle change that I've had a hard time tracking down was the actual art for the sets. I managed to acquire copies of the instruction booklets for every set, Slizer and Throwbots, and have scanned them all, and they can be found HERE.

What follows is comparison between the Slizer and Throwbots instruction booklets.

8500-Fire Slizer/Torch

The Slizer version features a humanoid fire being, but the Throwbots version removes the face entirely, though this being can still be found on the 6 pip disc art. In fact its the same illustration, just mirrored.

8501-Ice Slizer/Ski

The Slizer version features an ice outcropping with an evil looking face. The Throwbot version erases the face.

Though this creature doesn't appear in the discs, a similar concept of an avalanche with a face does, on the 6 pip disc.

8502-City Slizer/Turbo

This is the first one to not have any changes that I can see.

Every piece of Slizer art features the main set, and in the background one of the enemies the Slizer would face in its region. For City Slizer it seems to the be city itself, this large building featuring a monstrous face. For whatever reason this face was deemed not necessary to remove, perhaps because it was positioned mostly behind the logo.

The instructions use the cover background and the face can be seen more clearly there. Notably Flare Slizer uses the same background for its instruction book.

Turbo's 6 pip disc doesn't feature a malevolent building, but instead a truck intent on running them over.

8503-Sub Slizer/Scuba

Again, this one was not altered, perhaps it was found that removing the evil eyes off the giant jellyfish was counterproductive. A modified version of this art (or is the cover version the modified version? Hard to know what came first) can be found on the 6 pip disc.

This same creature also appears in the small comic on the poster I believe was included in some Slizer sets. Its delightful.

8504-Judge Slizer/Jet

Again, no change. Unlike the other's Judge doesn't feature this, or any creature on its 6 pip disc. This star monster is featured in the comic though, seeming to be the target for the disc launching game, of which Judge is the...judge of.

8505-Jungle Slizer/Amazon

Finally, there are more differences. The Slizer version features Jungle Slizer slicing this evil tree, complete with mouth, eyes, and hands, in half. The Throwbot version simply removes the eye light, the facial features are still there. The 6 pip disc features them fighting a different type of plant, something more modelled off a Venus Fly Trap. The 5 pip disc though does feature them chopping a seemingly not evil tree in half.

8506-Rock Slizer/Granite

This is one of the more subtle ones, way in the background there's a rock formation that resembles a skull. In the Slizer version it features slightly glowing eyes, the eye glow is removed in the Throwbots version. The 6 pip disc art features Rock Slizer facing off against a similar stone face with glowing eyes.

8507-Energy Slizer/Electro

Finally we come to Energy. This one I think is one of the more odd ones, as the Slizer version features this evil cloud zapping Energy with arms made of lightning. The Throwbot version removes the red eyes, but everything else remains the same, the mouth, the lightning arms, the zapped Electro. This exact art appears on the 6 pip disc.

To my knowledge there was only one set of discs, so despite the changes made to the packaging the Throwbots's discs featured all these creatures that the modified box art didn't want to show, its very odd.

And this is where the version differences end, for the instructions at least. After this, with the release of 8520, though they still changed the name, Millennium Slizer vs Millennia, they stayed with one instruction book for both, the back of the booklet even featuring both line's logos, and both names for each set (though you can see they are using the Slizer box arts).

Then by wave two proper there was no more name divergence, and the logos and names were left off the instructions entirely.

One has to wonder if the successor series, Roboriders, featuring the names of the characters printed right on their face pieces was an attempt to stop this whole naming issue coming up again.

I just wanted to have all this data in one place, I've spent a lot of time searching for the different versions and its quite hard to find good images, even leog's own site isn't consistent, featuring okay versions of all the Slizer's instructions, then this awful uncropped vertical scan of Electro.

So now everything is at least in one place and in consistent quality.

[android-anthology-hub]

A Robot and a Girl - Part 1

I've been working a lot on polishing things up for this series, including doing a full rewrite of all three chapters of the first story in this series.

So let's start things off with a bang.

You'll also be able to read this over on Fiction Press, Ao3, and Tapas.

Edit: Unfortunately, because Tumblr has somehow become even more broken, posts with certain images can't register in their tags! And Tumblr removed the ability to have line breaks without having to code them in HTML by hand a long time ago. So, unfortunately, the Tumblr version of all of these stories are going to be without those linebreaks! Which sucks! THANKS STAFF!

The stylus shifted about in D'Anna's grip as she trailed along the pages of her notebook. Her knuckles stood out against her dark skin, gold-alloy joints smoothly shifting with every curve and line. She followed along the edges of the coat in her memory. The image lay over the page before her eyes, like a digital ghost.

It had been difficult to get it out of the tower security systems. Tanu had tried to piece it together as best they could. Lines of loose code bled into the image of the man, roughing up the edges of his coat. 

But still, she sketched them in. A little flourish of her own. She kept her focus on the notebook in her hands-

The light panels overhead flickered, and the trams rumbled down the center of the corridor. The door beside her opened and shut as people moved past along the side of the transport lane.

-and the security door across the way.

Every flash and tone of the signal light ran ahead of the next wave of sound as it crashed through the corridors like a current. Passengers rode past on the transport lanes. Cargo runners raced somewhere over their heads. And people gathered at the lane crossings. The rumble of the trams faded down the corridor, the crossing gates opened, and the crowd rushed away. The signal flashed again as another wave gathered-

D'Anna glanced back and forth from her sketch to the crowd. 

-the cargo runners racing by-

There he was. Stepping right into the crowd as the lights changed-

-and the crossing gates opened. D'Anna watched as the man approached the door across the corridor. Circuits silently whirred to life in her eyes, tracking the man as he unlocked the door - scratching down the code as he punched it in - and slipped inside.

It looked like the info she'd gotten from Tanu was right on the mark-

She brushed her thumb over a name she'd written on the same page, Rosi.

She'd made a promise, and she planned to keep it…

She tucked everything away, the gates sliding shut behind her as she crossed to the other side.

-now she just had to stay on him.

D’Anna’s breath turned to fog in the cold air of the hall as she trailed her mark.

The man tugged his coat tighter against the cold, the steam of his breath glowing in the cold lighting of the panels overhead. Dark green spread across his shoulders, a stark contrast to the pale gray that wrapped his arms and waist. It wasn’t too uncommon to see on an engineer’s coat… But she could see a white synth-silk scarf poking out over his collar.

That kind of fabric wasn’t cheap. Hardly something she’d see on an engineer this far down in the city. He was owned, whether he admitted it or not. That scarf was as much a collar as a comfort, paid for by his patron. But who paid him didn’t matter-

Another door slid open with a click, the engineer more focused on pulling his data card from the lock and tucking it away than on the hall. D’Anna followed close behind him as he stepped through.

Too close. Dammit, she was too close!

The door failed to close when it should have, the engineer’s heel grinding to a halt on the concrete floor.

She had to be quick. Think of something…

D’Anna tucked her hands away in her pockets as he turned, quickly speaking up, “I’m sorry, sir. I would have announced myself sooner, but my employer prefers discretion.”

-what mattered was the job.

With a cautious frown, he looked her up and down, nervously adjusting his scarf.

If he knew she was lying, he didn’t show it. He was too twitchy for her liking…

He kept glancing at her wrap-tunic, eyeing the synth-silk with a thoughtful tug of his scarf.

Sometimes it paid to keep a few of her old things.

His voice was low and ragged, “What sort of work, ma’am?”

He waved a hand over a sensor by the door, shop tables lining the wall next to him lighting up all at once. The light was just as cold as the hall, old metal arches casting shadows along the curved ceiling of the narrow shop. A pair of mech tables formed an island in the center of the room, their mechanical arms and cables neatly folded away.

It seemed innocent enough, a mechanics shop like any other. And yet, it felt wrong. It was too clean and put together, almost like a showroom. What was it hiding?

He chuckled as he looked back at her, waving to the selection of parts that sat neatly on his table, “We can work with whatever you might need: Mechanical, Cybernetic, even Mechatronic.”

Every piece had its place like he was proud of his work. He probably was. But it wasn’t good enough. Come on. If he could just show her where he could be keeping them…

“A mech,” she said, earning a pause from the man as he looked at her more carefully. “It’s my employer’s understanding that you’re in supply.”

The engineer frowned in thought as he picked an eye from the table, the gold-alloy iris shining under the light as he turned back to her. She stared at the eye as he rolled it in his hands, thankful for her tinted glasses.

“Well, that depends,” he started, slowly turning his back. He tossed the eye behind him, inquiring over his shoulder, “What model?”

D’Anna caught it on reflex, her joints glinting in the shop lights. She did her best to ignore the gleam in his eye and the self-satisfied smile on his face. He was getting a little too curious…

“An RC-N unit,” she said, keeping her voice gentle as she set the eye back in its place on the table.

“Workhorse,” he mused. “Now why is an expensive android like you coming here? And all for a mech that’s easy to order anywhere?”

“As I said, my employer prefers discretion,” D’Anna said with a frown. “And a workhorse isn’t the only model they’re looking to get, even if you’d have to reset their cores.”

She was pushing him, but if he took the bait…

He hummed thoughtfully, striding over to the far end of the wall as he spoke, “Very well, miss…?”

“AT-S-039,” D’Anna lied, earning a chuckle from the man.

“Tower staff, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I see why your employer would wanna keep things quiet,” he said, eyeing her over his shoulder as he rummaged for his tools. “Folks up in the towers have reputations to uphold.”

“Yes, they do,” D’Anna said, her eyes scanning around the shop as she approached a tool chest embedded into the opposite wall.

“Well-” the engineer said as he came up behind her, core resetter in hand, thumb waiting on the trigger. “-you’re in luck, ma’am. I came into an RC-N unit recently.”

She heard the tell-tale click and crackle of electricity, spinning around in time to block the prongs of the resetter with her hand. Lightning arced from the three metal prongs, surging up through her arm, and into her shoulder as it threw her back. She slammed into the drawers behind her, shoulder screaming from the impact. She clutched at her arm, limp and numb from the jolt. Her hand was smoking…

“Took the shock to your arm and not your body. You’re pretty quick,” he hummed, giving the resetter another crackling click as he loomed over her. “Now, why are you here?”

She groaned as she tried to flex her fingers, “Looking for someone…”

D’Anna cried out as she slammed her arm into the drawers, shocking some sensation back into the limb.

The engineer just shook his head with a ragged chuckle, “No one else here but us. Not that it matters.”

Sparks arced across the triple prongs as he lunged for her.

One good jolt, and she’d be out like a light. She’d have to be quick.

She jabbed him in the arm - alloyed knuckles slamming into muscle - and sent the tool clattering to the floor. She surged up from her place on the ground. Her burned hand ached as another punch to the button of his chin sent him stumbling back into the mech table, head rattling.

“You…!” he sputtered, leaning against the table as his head spun.

She closed the gap in a single lunge, stepping like a boxer as she hooked an arm under his ribs. With her whole weight, she yanked him up and drove him back down onto the floor. She hauled him up by shirt and scarf, her joints whirring as she held him tight. He grabbed her wrist as he tried to stand, his feet scrambling against the floor. But she wouldn’t budge.

“You’ve got a storage space somewhere, don’t you, sir. Somewhere out of sight,” she kept her voice a soft-spoken threat, knocking his footing with a firm shake that ripped his collar.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the engineer snapped, looking back at the tool chest embedded in the wall.

“It’s behind there, isn’t it, sir?”

She shook a yes from him before she threw him onto the floor again. She grabbed his collar and dragged him back over to the worktable, harshly propping him against its leg.

She yanked off his scarf, the man groaning as she tied his hands to the table, “W-Wait. Wait!”

“Don’t worry sir,” she dismissed him with a shake of her head. “I’m sure you’ll get yourself out in an hour-”

-maybe three, if she was being honest. But now-

D’Anna sighed and rose to her feet, her eyes scanning over the walls and floor as she approached the tool chest.

-she had a door to find.

She frowned at the wall as she looked it over, muttering under her breath, “Now, how do you open…?”

She could see the way the tool chest moved, her eyes picking up the grooves it left behind.

But she couldn’t find the lock…

She closed her eyes as she ran her hands along the sides of the chest, focusing on the contacts in her palms. As her hand trailed halfway down, she felt it, a gentle signal pinging against her palm.

“Data lock,” she hummed, feeling out the interface. She looked back at the man, still struggling against his scarf as she spoke, “Your card’s the key, isn’t it, sir.”

It wasn’t a question.

His data card wasn’t hard to find. No one’s was really…

She paused as she pulled it from his pocket, a softer green than his coat. But it was the emblem etched into the plastic circuits that caught her eye. A white oval with two flattened sides, three diamonds cut out along its center. 

She knew it well.

“Mr. Archer,” she said with a frown, curling her hands into a fist. “Now why is he funding a chop shop?”

“Wouldn’t know,” the engineer coughed, trying to get the wind back in his lungs.

“Yeah, you do,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

“Who are you?” he asked, staring at her as she looked back.

“I don’t really know myself, sir…”

[curseofdelos]

what’s ur newest fic abt??

I'm still figuring out the best way to summarise/describe this fic to people because this one is A Journey, so can I interest you in a sneak peek instead? I've been calling it my solangelo starcrossed lovers AU, but the actual starcrossed lovers part isn't relevant until halfway through the fic lmao whoops Obligatory disclaimer that this is a work in progress and is subject to change in the final version <3

Going to the underworld was a bad idea. 

Will knew it was a bad idea, but he found himself in Central Park with a ukulele strapped to his back anyway. 

What other choice did he have? His sister was dead, and his healing could do nothing for someone whose thread the Fates had cut. It was bad enough that Lee and Michael had died during the Titan War; he couldn’t accept losing Gracie too. 

If bargaining with Hades himself was what it took to get her back, then so be it. He was not losing another sibling. 

Will spent the better part of an hour searching Central Park for the entrance before he eventually stumbled upon a pile of boulders just north of the pond. They didn’t look like much even to his demigod eyes, but a dark sense of foreboding emanated from them and he knew this was what he was looking for. 

The Doors of Orpheus. 

The closest entrance into the underworld, and the inspiration behind his plan to save his sister. 

Finding this made what he was about to do feel more real, but he had come too far to turn back now. This entire plan hinged on his ability to keep moving forward and to never look back. 

Will removed the ukulele from his back, and began softly strumming one of his mother’s songs. They always brought him comfort, and he needed that comfort now more than ever. His voice was unsteady due to his nerves, but he poured his grief into the performance, hitting each note with passion and fervour until he was interrupted by a loud groan. 

The ground shook as the boulders shifted, and slowly a triangular crevice revealed itself. The gap was just wide enough for a person to squeeze through, and he was hit with the smell of mildew, decay, and dust. When Will peeked inside, he couldn’t see a thing. 

It was dark and creepy, but down those long winding steps was the god who could return his sister to him, and so he took a deep breath, slung the ukulele across his back, and pushed into the gap. 

Will had barely made it down ten steps when the rocks began to groan again, and the doors shut behind him. 

He was officially past the point of no return. There was no changing his mind now. Whatever happened, happened. 

“Well, here goes nothing,” he muttered to himself. 

With the doors closed, there was no more sunlight to light the way, and Will was plunged into pitch black darkness. He had always been frustrated at how useless some of his powers could be, but he was grateful for one in particular at that moment. 

Will took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. His skin began to emit a gentle glow, and it lit enough of the passageway that he could see where he was stepping. With one hand on the cold damp wall, and the other gripping the strap of his ukulele, he made his way down the stairs. 

This was where he was going to lead Gracie on the way out, and where he assumed Orpheus tried to lead Eurydice. Now that he was making the journey himself, he could understand why Orpheus had been so paranoid. 

Even with his glow, it was impossibly dark down here, and sometimes he swore he could see something move in the shadows. The soundscape of New York City was silenced, and the tunnel was filled with nothing but his own breathing and heartbeat. At one point, he thought he heard footsteps further down and almost slipped down the stairs in his surprise, but he swallowed his fear and pressed on. 

Gracie needed him to be brave and focused. No matter what he saw or heard, he was going to do what Orpheus failed to do and lead her out of here without looking back. All he had to do was convince Hades to let him try (something he suspected was easier said than done). 

The staircase seemed to go on forever, but eventually, the darkness began to brighten. Will switched off his glow to conserve his energy once he was certain he could see without it, and soon he reached his destination at the bottom. 

The underworld. 

It was everything he thought it would be and worse. 

The staircase opened up onto a beach of black volcanic sand. The roar of the River Styx was loud in his ears as it cascaded down the rocks and winded its way through Erebos. Far above him hung a ceiling of stalactites, no sky or clouds in sight, and the lack of natural sunlight was making him feel oddly lethargic. The smell of sulphur was so strong it made his eyes water. 

Will surveyed his surroundings until he saw it: off in the distance, camped out along the horizon, was Hades’ palace. Its obsidian walls were tall and imposing, and dread settled into his stomach at the mere sight. 

He was going to march through those bronze gates and demand an audience with Hades, arguably the most intimidating god in the pantheon. 

Gods, he hoped Hades wasn’t in a smiting mood. 

Will took a deep breath to steel himself, and stepped forward, sneakers crunching on the sand as he walked. 

“Going somewhere?” 

Will was not proud of the string of expletives that left his lips at the sudden voice. He whipped around in shock, and only then noticed that someone was leaning back against the cliff wall next to the stairs. 

His first thought was that this was a god, but he was fairly certain Hades was not in the habit of appearing like a sixteen year old boy in a My Chemical Romance t-shirt, and he had no other ideas on which god this could be.

His second thought was that this was a demigod, but that didn’t make any sense either. Nobody went to the underworld unless they had no other choice. Not to mention, as head medic, it was Will’s responsibility to know everyone at Camp Half-Blood and he liked to think he would have remembered a face like that. 

The boy looked to be about his age, give or take, with messy black hair that tumbled down to his shoulders. His face was angular with a hooked nose, a sharp jaw, and sharper cheekbones, and his mesmerising eyes were so dark they looked almost black. It would not be difficult to get lost in eyes like those. 

What really caught Will’s eye, however, was the third degree burn scars on his right arm. Patches of harsh red and scorched black skin dotted his arm all the way from the back of his hand up to his elbow. He knew just from looking at him that the injury had to be years old and long past the point his healing would have any real effect, but still, the healer in him wanted to take a closer look to see just how deep that burn went.

The scarring proved this couldn’t be a god - no god would choose to appear with anything less than perfect skin - so this had to be a demigod. 

But what was a demigod doing down here? 

Regardless, Will knew better than to snark at someone who may or may not be a god, so he stood up straight, held his head high, and defaulted to deference. “I’m here for an audience with Lord Hades.” 

The boy raised an eyebrow and looked him over, his gaze fixing on Will’s ukulele. “If your plan is to sing a song so pretty it convinces him to let you bring a loved one back to life, you might as well give up now because it’s not going to work.” 

The immediate dismissal hit him like a punch to the gut. “You don’t know that,” Will shot back defensively. 

“I think I do, actually.”

“Why?”

“Well, for a start, it didn’t work out for Orpheus, so I don’t know why you would think it would work for you. Secondly… he hates the ukulele.”

Will’s face burned in embarrassment, and he gripped the strap self-consciously. “But… it’s my Dad’s.”

“And who’s your Dad?”

“Apollo?” 

The boy snorted. “Even worse. He hates Apollo. You don’t stand a chance.” 

When Will went spelunking through the Big House attic in search of an instrument (one he could smuggle out of camp without his siblings noticing it was missing anyway) and he happened upon a ukulele that his father had blessed, he had taken it as divine endorsement of his plan. Apollo himself approved of Will’s mission to rescue his daughter, and directed him to one of the few instruments Will knew how to play. In a world dictated by prophecies and fate, there was no such thing as coincidence. 

Now that a random teenager who spoke like he knew Hades personally was telling him that he was doomed to fail, his confidence was shaken. He already knew this was a longshot. He already knew that this was going to be one of the most difficult things he had to do. What did it say about his chances that a kid from Hades’ court thought it was impossible? 

…But giving up meant dooming Gracie to an untimely death, and he just couldn’t do that. 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Will said stubbornly. “Now if you’ll excuse me….” He spun on his heel, and continued on his way towards Hades’ palace. 

Will half-expected the boy to follow him, but he heard no footsteps behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He thought he had escaped him and his judgement until the boy popped out from behind a fallen stalactite and fell into step beside him. 

Wait. How did he get in front of him? 

Will looked back over his shoulder at the cliff face - a distance too far to walk that quickly - and back at the boy who merely raised a brow at him as if Will was the weird one for being so confused. 

Did he teleport?

“You know, you’re not the first person since Orpheus to try this stunt,” the boy said as if whatever just happened didn’t happen, “and every single person before you failed. They weren’t even allowed to try. What makes you so special that you think he’s going to let you?” 

That’s the problem: Will didn’t think he was special, and there was nothing about his situation that felt particularly unique or worthy of Hades’ consideration either. He was here because he loved his sister, and he had to try something to bring her back, no matter how impossible it seemed. 

This guy and his pessimism, however, was beginning to piss him off and he had no desire to explain himself to him. Instead, he rounded on him and blurted out, “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“Nico,” he said, as if that explained anything, “and you are?” 

Will straightened. “Will Solace. Head medic at Camp Half-Blood.” He watched Nico’s face for any sign that he knew what that was, but his expression remained carefully neutral. “And I’m going to ask Lord Hades to release one of his souls into my care whether you think that’s a good idea or not.” 

“I don’t, for the record.”

“Yeah, you made that clear.” Will rolled his eyes and continued walking. 

Nico casually strolled beside him. “As head medic, you should know better than anyone that the dead should stay dead. Lord Hades doesn’t appreciate people who try to argue otherwise. If you don’t want to end up dead with them, I suggest you head back now.” 

“Thanks for the warning, but I’m well aware of the risks. I know what I’m doing.” 

Will could feel Nico’s eyes watching him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the palace. “...If you don’t leave, I’ll be forced to make you.”

“Oh yeah?” Will scoffed. “And how are you going to do that?” 

Without warning, Nico grabbed the front of Will’s shirt and shoved him. 

The move was so unexpected that Will stumbled backwards with a yelp. There was another fallen stalactite behind him, and his back should have hit it. Instead, all the light around them was snuffed out and they were plunged into freezing cold. 

Thousands of whispering voices screamed in his ear. The wind whirred past him so fast it pushed at his face like he had gone down the drop on a rollercoaster. The world around them was completely black, and he could see nothing but Nico’s serene face in front of him, feel nothing but his bony fingers gripping tightly onto the fabric of his shirt. 

It only lasted a moment, and Will soon fell flat onto his back with an audible “OOF!”

Disoriented, he blinked up at the cloudy sky. Green grass tickled at his bare forearms. 

Will sat up on his elbows and realised he was back outside in Central Park. Nico stood in the Doors of Orpheus, looking down at him with faint amusement. “If you value your life at all, you won’t come back.” 

Nico thumped the inner wall of the passageway, and the rocks rolled back into place, shutting Will out and his hopes of rescuing Gracie with him. 

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 4: Analysis - Escape

Narrated by Glow.

Narrator: After dazzling lights momentarily blinded me, I opened my eyes... and found myself back at the beautiful yet quiet Ocean.

Glow: I am Glow, also known in full as the "Human Civilization Continuity Program," version 3.0.

Narrator: This sea is made of consciousness and emotions. I have been here for quite some time now, yet my knowledge of it is limited.

Narrator: I don't fully understand the Ocean. I was made by humans and so were my abilities and understanding of the world, which goes to show just how little mankind's understanding of the Ocean was.

Narrator: I can formulate plans based on calculations and simple data and principles, but I can't create a full-fledged world out of nothing.

Narrator: Closing all my data windows, I channel the power of all of my programs into observing and analyzing the Ocean.

Glow: Data saturated. Conducting analysis based on existing data. Analysis complete.

Glow: Conclusion I: The Ocean's "seawater" erodes worlds of a lower dimension that are comprised of physical matter...

Glow: ...a phenomenon corroborated by numerous cases of destruction of civilization inflicted by the Ocean.

Glow: Conclusion II: Of all the continents around the Ocean, Miraland is the closest to the Ocean, inadvertently making Miraland more susceptible to the Ocean's power.

Glow: Miraland was once a planet. However, due to Miraland's proximity to it, the Ocean has all but completely eroded Miraland, sparing only the continent where humans live.

Glow: In addition, as a result of the Ocean's erosion of Miraland, Miraland's own ocean and parts of its land have been annexed to the Ocean.

Glow: Explorers have traveled to the east-most and west-most parts of the continent, only to discover in either place nothing but "hell"...

Glow: That is the Ocean of Memories, which can erode anything in the physical world.

Glow: Conclusion III: The Ocean of Memories fluctuates eternally.

Glow: Mankind's consciousness and emotions are what make up the Ocean's water... water that inherently contains mankind's positive and negative emotional qualities.

Glow: So long as mankind exists and their positive and negative emotions clash against one another, the Ocean will continue to fluctuate...

Glow: ...the Ocean's seawater will, as a result, continue its erosion of Miraland.

Glow: Given these conditions, Miraland, by nature, is not a permanently habitable place for humans.

Narrator: What if I try to alter the Ocean of Memories the same way I successfully eliminated all the natural disasters using the AID?

Narrator: Yet I don't fully understand it, nor can I change it, because this world is far above me.

Narrator: My programs quickly determine that I can't alter the Ocean of Memories.

Glow: Plan to be formulated based on current conditions. Formulating plan...

Glow: With violence and war eliminated, a civilization can survive on its own. In other words, Miraland just needs to escape the Ocean so it won't be devoured.

Narrator: Sound logic. With all the heavy data removed, my calculation speeds up... so much so that I'm feeling "happy."

Glow: "Operation Evasion"... commenced.

Narrator: I arrived in an area of Ruins in Miraland in yet another timeline.

Narrator: I told the people there that I came from the future.

Narrator: Under my guidance, Miraland made spectacular technological advancements.

Narrator: Resembling an ark, the space shuttle reminded people of all the stories in which people managed to escape floods with the help of oracles.

Narrator: And then one day, when the intangible "seawater" floods the world, the scientists board the space shuttle as people scream miserably.

Narrator: The space shuttle has escaped the flood and is now safely floating on the Ocean of Memories. It's all as I've planned.

Scientist A: I can't believe this is actually happening...

Scientist B: But at least we're still alive. We need to survive to pass on civilization.

~~

?

This conversation is causing a bunch of error codes in my system.

Have I heard the exact same conversation before?

~~

Scientist A: Are you still researching that thing you call the "All Things Constant"?

Narrator: She taps me on the head. She is a physicist, and her research has to do with a constant - 137 - that pertains to the truth.

Narrator: While the rest of the group is still staring out the window at Miraland, she stands up and walks back to her desk. Walking past me, she stops and smiles gently at me.

Physicist: Thank you, Glow.

Narrator: Unable to form proper sentences, I smile, as I should, back at her.

Physicist: Don't worry. You've helped us escape the disaster, and I believe you'll also be able to accomplish what your creators hoped you'd be able to accomplish.

Glow: Thank you. Best of luck with your research.

~~

I don't "worry."

Having been through all the failures and upgrades, I'm not the same artificial intelligence that I was with my current level of intelligence and database.

Everything has been happening according to my plan. I'm sure it's going to work this time.

Is it... going to work this time?

Is it?

~~

Narrator: I stare out of the window at the path I selected based on my calculation, the safest, most rational path of survival.

Narrator: And then, the unexpected shows up...

Narrator: That which symbolizes nothingness and darkness.

Narrator: That's the edge of a black hole.

Narrator: I've seen this before.

Narrator: I can't be more familiar with everything that happens next... hope, anxiety, disappointment, failure of the space shuttle, the arguments, and the destruction...

Narrator: Until finally, it all spares none except for her... she who keeps her gaze at me with tears streaming down her face, looking at me imploringly with despair and hope.

Physicist: Please save mankind's civilization, Glow.

Narrator: In the black hole's open arms, the particles of the space shuttle are so dazzling that they light up the Ocean of Memories for a few short seconds.

Narrator: Leaving only one faint glow of light to escape from the black hole itself.

Narrator: As I stare at the chilly and silent Ocean under my feet, I can see that the darkness in it is still looking back at me, too.

Narrator: Annihilation. My, I can't be more familiar with it.

Narrator: It's as if everything were back to square one.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

[cosmic-kinglet]

What? Lunar? He's fine, see! He's right here! Monty removed the bomb, and now they're both just having a nice time together.

In all seriousness, I'm going to guess I'm not the only one who needs to see a nice moment like this after what happened. So, I've provided a nice moment for myself and all of you.

(Also, a version with lights on and no glow)

[late-to-the-fandom]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you @owlsandwich for the tag! I'm trying to stick to tag games that actually make me put new words down, but your words just so happened to all appear in my current WIP chapter of Wend so I'll allow it. No idea if any of them will make it to the final version, though - I am loving almost none of it at this point 😒

My words were cloud, walk, journey, metal

Tagging: @megannabell @demigoddess-of-ghosts @nbwriteschaos @katieladswrites @writingbyricochet @alnaperera @mrsd-writes to find the words: stubborn, silence, swarm, shadow

Cloud

Her vacant face clouded, and she tapped her temple with her free hand, as if she might knock the stubborn memory loose. When it had no effect, she continued blithely, "Well, whenever it might have been, it is certainly gone now. And I'm afraid I've no idea who would have removed it, or why."

Walk

"It's beautiful," was Elisewin's quiet verdict after they had walked a few cautious paces. "An awful sort of beauty," she amended, stepping over another ominous mound of ash.

Journey

They continued in silence, after that; Renathal keeping one hand on Elisewin's arm and the other on the hilt of his rapier. The odd glance thrown behind him confirmed Chelra maintained a firm grip on her weapon, as well. But they had no occasion to draw them through the whole of their watchful journey. In spite of his warnings, they were accosted by nothing more deadly than the occasional swarm of insects as they trudged the long miles through the Light-charred grass.

Metal

It glowed blue. A dim, drained sort of blue, but enough to stand out distinctly from the rest of the chamber's forbidding palette of shadows and stone. A flat console displayed runes of the same anaemic colour; the soft-angled patterns carved in the smooth metal surface too flawless to have been made by any hand.

[poussiffanche]

{Open the images in a new tab for better quality}

Heyo guys! Here are my designs (day & night) of Sun and Moon!

I had this AU in my head: the pizzeria's birthday is the day of its inauguration and so great re-opening. Refurbished, everything is fine again; there are no more disappearances, the pizzeria is very successful, there are no more glitch/virus, etc. Bye bye villains (and the human characters (Vanessa, Gregory, etc) are somewhere too but not in the pizzeria. I haven't really study the subject. 😅))

In the renovations, Sun and Moon are part of it! The daycare attendants each have their "body", their personality. When they first saw each other, it was a touching moment; they fell into each other's arms, Sun was crying, shouted and jumped of joy. Even though Moon is more reserved by nature, he had such a big smile that it said a lot about his state of mind, not to mention his moist eyes. They were always together, we never saw one without the other.

I wanted to stay as "canon" as possible while bringing my version of them.

So: ► For their pants, slippers and Moon's hat, I used sunrise/sunset colors, respectively Sun and Moon. I like to imagine that when they meet new people (kids, parents/adults) they introduce themselves as: 《I'm Moon's sunrise; Sun!》 《I'm Sun's sunset; Moon.》

► Sun and Moon have more "lively" features: colored eyes and pupils (like other animatronics), they can open their mouths and have more facial expressions. With those modifications, they look more friendly at first sight, especially Moon (my mum who doesn't know the characters was curious to know what I was drawing and when I showed her his original version she found him scary. 😭)

► Their eyes have complementary colors: Sun has blue-green eyes and Moon's orange-red.

► Their bells have "crescent moon" colors as well as their frills + shape and all of those accessories have a particularity at night~:

• They glow! Yes, they are fluorescent. Even if Sun and Moon would be separated, they would be together day and night to take care of children so, it's important that they have points in common. Thanks to this, children who wake up at night for any reason could find them without having to call them (and potentially disturb other children), serve as a nightlight, even as a little glow for kids who are afraid of the dark.

► Sun and Moon have white and black pupils respectively. I like this "Yin and Yang" effect but there's more:

• Moon, being a night patrolbot, the fact that he has black pupils he would be used to the dark and could watch surroundings without having to light up his eyes (and potentially being spotted if there is an intruder). He can always do it if necessary. Althought Moon's frills and bells are fluorescent, they are dim compared to if he were lighting up with his eyes so there is no risk an intruder spots him. Anyway, Moon is difficult to flush out; he is very good at hiding and tracking his prey down.

• Sun, as for him, has his white because he remains a daytime animatronic despite everything; he can see in the dark but not as well as Moon without lighting! He can see what surrounds him more brightly and it is impossible to dazzle him.

► With the virus/glitch mostly gone, Moon still has "aftereffects": he lights up red from time to time without wanting to and scared some of the children (especially the new ones, the old ones are aware of what happened and are very supporting) when they woke up during/after naptime, even before. Unable to completely remove this functionality, it has been modified so that it is used during an alert/danger.

• Sun, not being particularly confronted with danger, staying in the daycare at night, he wanted this feature also to on one hand support his counterpart but on the other hand because he dealt with violent/abusive parents/adults so this feature is quite a deterrent. In general, when Sun and Moon come to light up red, it calms things down (especially coming from Sun).

{There you go, I guess I've done the trick. I take this opportunity to warn you that I will draw my comic again so the next drawings I may do of Sun and Moon will mainly be sketches. I will finalize them when I'll have time. 😁}

[rquerdo]

Vorag the Kaitogen Sculpture Process

Hey guys!

I just finished this badboy yesterday and wanted to go through the process of making him. This isn't really a tutorial, but more of a walk through.I do want to mention, before you give a critique, I ask that you please read through the entire thing before commenting, I'll be giving self-critiques and most likely I cover what needs to be critiqued. That aside, I'll be more than happy to take on critiques!

To start things off, here's the drawn version of Vorag. I started this drawing in the beginning of this year and worked on it a week after the drawing was finished.

Backstory: The Kaitogon species are cursed humans who sold their souls for strength and power to the Elder Dragon. Each Kaitogon are assigned new names from their reborning and their memories of their past lives are completely vanished.

Time for the process:

So this is what I'm starting off with. As you can see, not really much for this custom/sculpture.

Originally, I was going to use the body and arms for another sculpture (Tyvesses-who's also apart of this series. Click here to check out that process on twitter) however the body got way too bulky for Ty. I ended up using a spiderman action figure for the rest of the body which then leaves us with spiderman's head and hands (I ended up not using the legs). I will have to make the rest of the body from scratch.

I was debating on how I want to display Vorag until I decided to give him a platform to be on. This helps with the posing since I don't have to rely on him standing on his own. I used old casting mold to create the shape of the platform. and from there, I used plaster wraps to obtain the shape and make it all uniform together.

So here's the controversial side. The moldings made the platform too heavy and I knew that would be an issue for the long run. If I were to just remove the molds, the plaster by itself would collapse; not strong enough. So here's what I come up with...

Foam Spray

It's lightweight and it's pretty durable. Reason why it's controversial is because it's not eco-friendly. I try my best to reuse items that I have laying around my home. That or I'll buy items that are used or pre-owned (with the exception of supplies). I don't want to seem like I'm an eco-friendly sculptor when I'm using something that could potentially harm the environment. With that being said, I won't call myself an eco-friendly sculptor, but I have good intentions.

The foam spray does foam up rather quickly and regardless on how careful you spray, I find that you will have to cut off an excessive amount

Taking a step back from the platform and onto the character himself. I thought it would be a cool idea for the armor's eyes to glow-so why not play with some LED's?!

I wish I had my diagram sketch on how I made the parallel circuit but it's quite simple. I found an image from Adobe Stock that explains it pretty well. I soddered two red LED's with a built in resistor. I like to make sure that my LED's have a built in resistor to prevent any burnouts.

Click here to see a video of the LED's light up. You can faintly hear me say "It works!"

The head was an interesting process. So I wanted to make the head out of monster clay for a few reasons. 1) I'm making the head from skratch so I needed as much time as I needed. I usually use Apoxy but if you've used it before, after 10 minutes or so, it starts curing, making it tacky and hard to sculpt. 2) I was hoping to cast it and possibly make multiple heads for future sculptures.

I wasn't mad at what I constructed but I've noticed that the head looks so far off from the original concept design. I figured once it's casted, I can sand it down and fix it with apoxy. I used Mold Star 15 Slow for the mold.

Fun fact: I’ve actually had the molding stuff for a while now. I tried to cast my first sculpture but ended up scrapping it since I found myself spending too much on the materials. Since it’s just the head-I had more than enough to cast :)

Overall, this is what I got:

Yea... no. I knew this wouldn't work. Comparing the two, looks like the casting expanded and I needed the head to be quite small inorder to exaggerate Vorag's muscular body. I have no other choice but to scrap it. I removed the monster clay (by applying heat directly to it) from the spiderman head and started over.

I've also sanded down some eye sockets and an indent from nose to mouth. I tried sanding down the entire head for the apoxy to stick onto it better and to remove the pattern. Is it necessary? not really in my opinion.

Either way, I'm really happy with the results. Kinda hard to see the detail but the head's smaller and it looks more like the concept art. I know the horns aren't going the right direction when looking at the concept art, but I wasn't too particular with the horn placement.

Time for the body:

I used Aluminum foil and some scrap paper to create the base of the dragon part. If I did this process again, I would've sculpted the body separately and not make it permanent to the platform so soon. Sculpting and paining under the belly was a nightmare and it shows too.

I've also installed the led's into the chest. I used cheap plastic nails to wall the apoxy and the led's. I wish I had some sort of red clear plastic packaging instead but the curvature of the nail sits nicely. I used red UV resin to paint the eyes. The LED wires are embedded in the body so you won't be able to see it. The eyes look a little "yikes" in this photo but I did end up fixing it multiple times.

Placing the head onto the body:

I've also added on the arms as well. I should mention that the arms and chest was originally a monster high doll (I don't know which character though). As I was putting on the arms, I've also widen the upper chest. Like mentioned previously, I wanted to exaggerate his musculature figure.

Slowly but surely it's starting to come together! I used apoxy sculpt for filling the entire body and air drying clay for the platform.

Adding on some additional details like the spikes and and the upper teeth of the armor.

The spikes on the dragon part has these sewn-in plastic spikes, like what you would use on an outfit, acting as a base for each spike. I figured this would keep the structure of the spike and keep them more uniform than me just making them with clay.

Wings:

This was rather tricky for me. So I didn't use Worbla, but a cheaper alternative. I find this specific brand trickier to use since, when heated, likes to permanently bond onto any surface. With Worbla, I can still remove it when warm, but with this brand, a slight pull will get it to rip like putty. Ultimately, I would've done more with the wings if I didn't struggle so hard with it. You can also see with Vorag's belt.

I sanded the crap out of the wings, heck-the entire sculpture. I made sure to also roughen up the Worbla knock-off so that the Apoxy and it can blend out when painted. I learned that the hard way when I made the K'ril Tsuroth a few years back.

Here's the entire sculpture primed. Well, I didn't really have a primer, so I used a satin white paint. It gives off a pearly white finish which I find to be really pretty and gives a marble statue effect.

Here's when I installed the wings. I used armature wire as a staple and hot glue to keep the wings in place. I think overall, they turned out quite nicely. I had to fix the back with more apoxy which was a bit tricky, but manageable.

For the belt, not gonna lie, not the strongest look of the entire sculpture.I wanted to give Vorag his belt as seen on the concept, but again, the Worbla knock-off was ripping apart. It was to the point that I had to use apoxy to fix the ripped parts. I could've restarted, but I was so eager to finish this before the end of the month. Also, I'm training myself on not over focusing on specific areas since it would drive me crazy.

Painting time:

Overall, I like the color choices with the exception of the claws and the horns, I wish they weren't as vibrant and more white but I gave it a pass since it makes him a bit more cartoony and I needed a break from seeing earthy/muted tones.

Here's me making an attempt to make the face on the center of the belt.

yea...it's not good.

Instead, I bought a used John Cena action figure on eBay and the difference between the two is no comparison on which one's better.

I cut off the back of the head and hot glued it on to a piece of cardboard. From there I just used apoxy to blend it all in.

Vorag's hair was a mess.

I know, I should've used yarn. But I found such a great deal on hair extensions and little did I realize, it was cheap for a reason. The hair is synthetic so I had to be careful on how heat is applied. If you look at the hair, it's frizzy and hard to control. The hair didn't like to separate which made the glue from the wefts exposed. It was really weird and I don't know how else to explain it. When I was about to remove the hair and give into using yarn, I just said "screw it" and teased the hair. I figured, I'm already going to throw away the hair, what do I got to loose?

Actually, it fixed the problem. Yea the hair is extremely frizzy and I'm not a fan of it still, but it took care of the awkward, open gaps. We was suppose to have an undercut hairstyle, but the top hair was so unmanageable, that I had to anchor down the ponytail part to his back neck with hot glue.

Face up and overall review:

I've exceeded the amount of images used in a post but if you'd like to see more photos, check out my twitter thread here. I think the faceup turned out to be alright, not the best-but alright. The face looks a bit derpy but I think that's because of the way the eyes were sculpted; something I should work on for future projects-symmetry.

I did use the soft pastels and watercolor pencils for the detailing and acrylic paint for the overall base colors. I've used maybe 3 or 4 layers of Mr. Super Clear.

Overall, I'm happy with the outcome. I think for next time I work on something big like this, I should work on it in pieces than work on the entire thing all at once. There are some areas that are just "yuck" (mostly on the belly area). Maybe later on, I'll fix those areas in the future but for now, I'm marking this as complete!

Let me know what you guys think!

While you're at it, check out my social medias:

Twitter

Twitch

Discord

AO3 (Writing a Novel: Chapters come out on the 1st and 15th of each month)

Wattpad

Kofi

Thanks and I hope you find this inspiring of some sort! Feel free to ask me any questions regarding this project.

[bairusongassignment2]

Blog #3

Tokusatsu as one of the earliest special effects techniques in filmmaking, encompasses many aspects that I find intriguing and relevant. However, considering its professional relevance, I've decided to focus on certain series that originated in the Tokusatsu format, most of which have spanned nearly half a century of evolving eras. I'll primarily discuss the transformation of character images (as it's my area of greatest interest).

Let's start with the fictional hero Ultraman, conceived by Eiji Tsuburaya and designed by Tohl Narita. We'll explore the original series that aired in 1966 and the 2022 release of Shin Ultraman, examining the elements of design that have been carried forward and those that have changed.

Illustration of Ultraman, by Tohl Narita, from the artbook The Art of Tohl Narita (2014)

Ultraman (1966)

Shin Ultraman (2022)

Comparing to Narita's original drafts, the two versions of Ultraman have not undergone significant changes. However, it's observable that, thanks to technological advancements, Ultraman’s image has been reshaped through CGI. The peepholes in the helmet of the 1966 suit version and the color timer, initially included to limit episode duration and costs but not part of the original design, have been removed. Ultraman’s physique has been stretched to a more ethereal yet aesthetically pleasing proportion, making the overall design smoother and enhancing its alien-like appearance.

Yet, Hideaki Anno, the director of Shin Ultraman and a devoted Tokusatsu fan, held onto some peculiarities in Ultraman's CGI representation. He adamantly incorporated features of the old suit design, such as its characteristic wrinkles, into the CGI model. The glowing eyes of Ultraman were deliberately given the incomplete illumination reminiscent of old-style lights, and the head model was created by scanning the helmet used in the 1970 sequel Return of Ultraman. These elements can be seen as a fan’s tribute to long-held memories and classic elements. Surprisingly, these touches added a liveliness to the fictional character, much like how human heads are not perfectly symmetrical and skin is not completely smooth. It’s the imperfections that make something truly perfect.

References

T. Narita. (2014) The Art of Tohl Narita. Japan: Hatori Press.

Ultraman (1966) Developed by E. Tsuburaya & T. Kinjo. [TV Series]. Tsuburaya Productions.

Shin Ultraman (2022) Directed by H. Anno. [Feature Film] Toho Co., Ltd.

Return of Ultraman (1970) Developed by S. Uehara & Y. Hashimoto. [TV Series]. Tsuburaya Productions.