#activity drop off

[duodusk]

at least the meat mountain vlog isnt on His channel

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[whynotimtired]

I don't want to be mean but you all sound batshit when you try to convince milkvans byler is real by talking about pure subtext and color theory and "Mike was checking Will out in this scene!!!" there's CLEAR plausible deniability in your own interpretation of someone's acting. The duffers intentionally kept it all vague enough that most people wouldn't figure it out until they get the chance to shove it into people's faces and if the majority of people look at the scene you're analyzing and go "aww they're finally friends again yay" and you go "Mike was blatantly checking wills ass out in the beginning" when...he was taking a breath to settle and prepare to reconcile with someone he's been "off" with for a year... you end up sounding a little insane. Those types of takes are subjective, and you can make a funny video with zooms implying that that's what he was doing but actively trying to convince someone your headcannon is canon will almost always make you sound deranged.

There's a reason you don't go up to milkvans and go "b-but blue meets yellow in the west" and start talking about the intricacies of making film and how everything is on purpose, that stuff isn't for normies. Analysts love that shit but to someone who just watches the show for fun they hear you say all that and go "you're reaching" because you took someone who is at a zero and shoved them into a thousand without showing them why you ACTUALLY ship byler and just tried to prove that it's real

[backpackingspace]

Do we think odysseus started pranking Athena and her temples at some point? Because I do. He argued that it was good for sneaking and evading training. And you know what Athena couldn't argue that. Her chasing odysseus across the island was good training.

[rinmemesuoka]

[Video Description: the octopath traveler party going down three flights of stairs in rowboats in the city of Ku. End Description.]

Having a normal one in Ku.

[ohlookitsthearkhamknight]

I like how there were two (2) good days on twitter and then someone brought a cameo and apparently thats a war crime or something?!?!? Fuck off it’s not your money!?!?!? We love Lou and like listening to his opinions ffs. And if I see one more thing about “Oliver is a b*ddie warrior” or “Oliver doesn’t like Lou/Tommy and wants b*ddie” when Ryan is over here CONFIRMING Eddie is straight/b*ddie is never happening im going to lose it. You lost. Its over. QUIT FUCKING HARASSING PEOPLE IT DOESN’T GET YOU WHAT YOU WANT. Im sorry you didn’t get your ship but there is no need to attack everyone else.

[drinker-of-paint]

Babys first go at an Alice design!!

I'm slightly worried I might have made her outfit a bit. Much? But on the other hand I think her fashion sense cannot be silenced

I'm just trying to get the ones out that I had immediately somewhat clear in my head before I get influenced by everyone elses designs,

I think I'll do Gwen next, no promises on how soon that'll be though bc it's me 😬

[tea-time-terrier]

This girl knows how to enjoy a grass <3

[yappacadaver]

Crazy wild shit man

[erosology]

all könig simps have a size kink and all ghost simps have daddy issues. this is the way

[artemismoorea03]

DPxDC Prompt: The Child Who Was King

(For anybody who has read my DPxDC fics you might know that I'm a huge fan of the "Unaging Danny" headcanon and this was directly inspired by that)

------

The team has already heard about Phantom in one way or another. Yes, the tyrant "Pariah Dark" had his name mentioned in some places but it was called the "Phantom Zone" for a reason. "Phantom Zone", "Land of the Dead", "Underworld", "Limbo" and countless other names are listed and describe the same place.

It also describes a King be it vicious or kind, old or young, a threat or a peace keeper. The stories are so varied that it's impossible for the League to know who to expect when they receive a mysterious sticky note which falls from the sky during the meeting.

Soon.

The entire League is on edge, not knowing what to think until some members (Zatana and Constantine) recognize the symbol on the paperwork from ancient texts. The Symbol of the God of Time. Zatana says that Time works close with the King of Death and is send to bend at his will and often sends warning messages like this to alert those who are required to know. While Constantine just wants to leave before things get to be any more of a headache.

Days turn into weeks.

Weeks into months.

Most of the team thinks it was a mistake but one member of the team stays particularly on edge because the paper fell in front of them specifically. It isn't until they're on patrol in their area that another note appears with an address and a time and when they arrive in the area they make it just in time for a green portal to open and somebody to fall out of it.

They react, years of training tell them to catch the figure and when they do they discover a child no older than 14 under weight, pale with black hair and blue eyes, bruises covering them. They're breathing heavily as the kid leans against the heroes chest fearfully, the cape seeming much larger than them.

The hero doesn't know what to think when one final note appears.

Due to reasons which can not yet be discussed King Phantom is not safe in the Land of the Dead, you are here by entrusted with his protection. If you fail all will be lost.

[dunaldoodles]

BEHOLD. DARGEN. ENJOY THE FOOD, MY CHILDREN!

[bitchapalooza]

Just sat down and actually skimmed through the crocomom/dad theory(to avoid heavy spoilers but I’m sure there weren’t any besides Ivankov in the reddit post I read) and I fully believe it could be possible but only because it’s funny as fuck and actually has some potential for a fucked up heartless detail about Crocodile that I love so much because I don’t see it very often

[asgardian--angels]

just rewatched steven universe future (and the movie) and I just gotta say.

I still have no idea why fandom was so upset about the show, why opinion turned against it, or anything. I didn't understand it then, I don't understand it now. I've enjoyed every single minute of that show, start to finish, all iterations. A show hasn't left me sobbing like that in a hell of a long time. It handles heavy, dark emotional topics with incredible finesse and heart in a way that all of us could learn from. It remains one of the most aesthetically beautiful animated series I've ever seen, and the soundtrack is so incredibly moving. I'll never get why shows with the most hopeful themes, like this one, end up with the nastiest 'fans' that harass creators and artists for making something that encourages us to be kind to each other. like, insert good omens meme i guess, yknow? but I will always love this series (the OG, the film, and Future). I'm glad I was never really involved with the fandom back when it was airing so I didn't have to hear any of the shit that people were tossing around. But knowing that this series basically got thrown to the wind after it was done airing - like, no one even talks about it anymore, as if there were some Game of Thrones effect WHEN THERE WASN'T - breaks my heart. It was so incredibly influential, for animation, for queer representation, for creativity in art, and for helping a lot of people feel seen and teaching us a better way to be towards our fellow human beings. I don't know who the fuck can be angry about this show, but whoever they are, I feel sorry for them that they have nothing better in their lives than to be senselessly cruel to people who are trying to make the world a kinder place.

anyone out there who hasn't watched Steven Universe before, and maybe was intimidated or put off by how it's talked about on here, please don't listen to that. It's one of the best made series, animated or not, in the modern age. It touches people of all ages. It inspires hope, and forgiveness, and working towards a better world. It has incredible character development, intergenerational trauma, dismantling colonialism, the horrors and fallout of war, xenobiology, troubled families, damaged people trying to grow and find new meaning, building community, nature vs nurture, perfectly done slow-burn plot arcs and reveals, and an art style that's so gorgeous you'll mourn the current state of the industry that stifles creativity like this. And it does all of this so profoundly and intelligently that it defies summary. Give it a try.

That's all I'll say. I never post about the show anymore bc I'm not a part of the fandom and I don't know how active it is on here anymore. But I've always cared deeply for Steven Universe and I always will. I hope outside of the insular bubble of toxic online fandom that it continues to have a steady mainstream following. Rebecca Sugar deserves accolades and a big thank you for bringing this show into the world. I'm sure she did not get a fraction of the praise she should have, and instead had to endure endless vitriol. The bar's always too high for some people who want something to be mad at, who want to blame and hate instead of supporting the few brave artists out there trying to make queer shows and pave the way for the future. The enemy of queer rep is so often queer fandom spaces themselves. Let's not let this life-changing show fade into obscurity if we can. It was groundbreaking in so many ways. It brought joy and hope to so many. I hope new people will continue to watch it and be uplifted by it, as I have all these years.

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…

[serpentface]

FAMILY TITLES AMONG THE HILL TRIBES

(ft. various linguistic notes and tangents)

In-universe Brakul’s self-given title of ‘Red-Dog’ is Brakul 'ne-Dainh' in his native language (Bict-Urbinnas dialect of the Highland language group) and Brakul 'Chin-Reyla' in Wardi. Ne-Dainh/Chin-Reyla is not something he treats as or considers an actual surname or identity, just a self-styled nickname. He already has a title.

Family names/surnames are not a native practice among the Hill Tribes (though some clans or individual families have adopted this practice), and all traditionally use titles that designate immediate ancestry, clan and tribe. These full titles are officially given when one comes of age and are spoken aloud in ceremony (with the entire direct male and female lines listed by name, with most traditions expecting 12 generations of each being named).

The function is to cement one’s sense of place in the world, and their place in a direct ancestral line, which puts the person under the full watch and guidance of their ancestors. It's also a critical method of recording lineage- the long held practice of each person memorizing at least 24 total direct ancestors allows for very long, largely accurate records of family history to be kept, with some people able to trace their ancestry all the way back to initial settlement of the Highlands (or even beyond).

Brakul’s full title is:

“Brakul virsum Kuligan et Borunil an Briyonis ne-Taig an Bict-Urbinnas”

Which dead literally translates to “Brakul son of Kuligan and Borunil of the Foothills (of) Red-Cattle, of the North (Urbin/Erubin) River Valley” but has a much richer meaning in the original language.

"BRAKUL VIRSUM KULIGAN ET BORUNIL"

The actual meaning here is closer to ‘Brakul, son of Kuligan and his father’s fathers, and Borunil and her mother’s mothers’.

“Virsum” means ‘child (son/daughter) of’ (the gender is contextual), but implies the person’s status as a descendant of a full male and female line of ancestors. A different word is used if you’re just saying ‘I’m so and so’s son”. The title describes him as a son of his father Kuligan and of Kuligan’s male line, and of his mother Borunil and Borunil's female line.

All ancestors (within this particular system of kinship, divided into one direct male line from the father and one direct female line from the mother, and not including husbands from the female line or wives from the male line) are invoked and credited with the word ‘virsum’. Speaking it as part of the personal title is part of the routine and necessary honoring of one’s ancestors, who watch over their descendants from the afterlife and can temporarily return to the land to guide and protect (and sometimes punish, or teach sharp lessons to) the living.

"AN BRIYONIS NE-TAIG"

The actual meaning here would be understood as ‘clan/people of the foothills where cattle are lit red by the setting sun'.

‘Briyonis’ is the word for ‘foothill’, citing his clan’s specific location being the foothills that form the slopes of the north Urbin river valley. He is of a lesser clan within the powerful North Urbin River tribe. His clan benefits from close affiliation to their more powerful ruling clans located directly in the river valley, which grants them access to a greater variety of cultivated foods, but their actual position in the foothills still renders them predominantly reliant on cattle for subsistence. Clan names referencing cattle or horses are very common, given their frequent centrality to life.

The ‘ne-Taig’ literally means ‘red cattle’, but the ‘ne’ color word for red specifically invokes shades of red seen in and cast by a rising/setting sun. This red cast is culturally regarded as a unique beauty and evocative (and part of the name) of the solar god Hraighne. The foothills his clan is physically located on are a vantage point from which the western horizon is not fully obscured by mountains, and they experience very striking sunsets and are directly touched by the light. This is fairly unique to this location, and is invoked in the clan name and identity. ‘Ne-Taig’ here suggests a visual of grazing cattle illuminated red by the sun as it crosses the horizon.

‘Ne-Dainh’ carries the same implication, a dog illuminated red by setting sunlight. The Wardi language does not have a comparable word for a sunlit red and ‘Chin-Reyla’ really does just mean ‘(orangeish) red dog’ (‘reyla’ is specific to orangey-red colors, which is the closest match he could get. There’s no way to impart the meaning of ‘sunlit-red dog’ in Wardi that is non-clunky enough to be appropriate for a name).

"AN BICT-URBINNAS"

‘an Bict-Urbinnas’ is fairly simple, Bict means ‘north’, and 'Urbin' is the name of the specific river that stems from a northern and eastern tributary. This river has a very ancient name (or a derivative of one) that predates settlement by the Hill Tribes, and its exact meaning is lost.

The root -(n)nas designates a river valley, but has strong implications of being an esteemed and bountiful place, rather than solely a literal geographical descriptor (as the river valleys are centers of power and trade in the highlands). It may be a loanword from the Wardi language family, as its usage is VERY similar in form and function to the Wardi -(n)nos, which also suggests a place of esteem and bounty (more specifically having connotations of a kingdom).

’An’ literally means ‘of’, but in the specific sense of describing the place and identity of a collection of people. ‘an Bict Urbinnas’ would be understood in speech as ‘of the north Urbin River Valley (people)’. The clans historically settled in and around the valley of the North Urbin River form the totality of the Bict-Urbinnas tribe.

The ‘Urbin’ word predates the contemporary Wardi name ‘Erubin’ for the river, the latter of which invokes the semi-mythological founding figure Erub, who himself was of a Wardi tribe located downriver to the south of the Highlands. The real historically extant ‘Erub’ was most likely named Urub after the river, with his cited name shifting over the centuries in folklore, and the Wardi name for the river shifting with it.

‘Erubin’ as a corruption of ‘Urbin’ functions very well in Wardi language due to ‘-bi/bin’ denoting something as a ‘gift’, usually in a more metaphorical sense. ‘Erubin’ is understood as meaning ‘(The river that is) Erub’s gift’, and the Erubin/Urbin river is a key tributary to the much larger Black river, one of the key rivers that feeds the region's wetter and more fertile west. This 'gift' meaning also occurs in the name of the southeastern Imperial Wardi city-state Erubinnos, which is understood as meaning ’((The kingdom that is) Erub’s gift’. He is considered to have conquered and taken the land (from the core city's actual founders, the Wogan people) and established a kingdom there in the early days of warring Wardi tribal monarchies.