#also if I were to do that would people want the original ms paint doodle or would I have to actually refine the drawing

[nuclear-smash]

Do u have a shop? Binder Garfield is begging to be a sticker pls boss I'm begging on my trans knees

Hi! I have some unfortunate news as an artist who's been on the interwebs for so long -- I do not have any shops or anything set up, nor do I know how to actually do it 😭But your ask has kinda made me consider so....

[cryptidmads]

alright, so i went through the ama with wan hazmer and daim dziauddian on twitch and picked out every little tidbit i could about the megastars bc i knew you guys would want to know. this is a long post and i’m on mobile atm so i can’t put it under a read more — sorry about that! bosses are in chronological order, starting with DJSS and ending with Eve!

DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA

- djss took the least amount of time to develop out of all the bosses (haz says his fight took about half a year.)

- daim purposely tried to make djss' name as long as he could. he was specifically looking at negasonic teenage warhead from deadpool for inspiration.

- haz and daim do have the briefing/kliffnotes for djss. they discussed sharing them at some point, but idk when that would happen.

- related to the above, daim says that dj is in his mid thirties. EDIT: his kliffnotes were shared on twitter and they say he’s 41. daim must have goofed haha

- when asked if djss actually has a face and how he eats, daim compares it to kenny from south park and how you never see his face. he thinks dj does have a face in there, but that we just never see it. as for the “how does he eat” part, daim says that sometimes they don’t have to show everything.

- daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- daim said that uncle ali basically instantly landed the role as djss. he was that good.

SAYU

- sayu was obviously inspired by hatsune miku and other vocaloids, but haz brings up one particular commercial involving miku and google chrome, which involves a bunch of people collborating on songs and concept art for miku, similar to how sayu started as a collab between remi and tila in-universe.

- someone asked about the models for sayu's crew's apartments. there wasn't much on that, but haz mentions that one of his favourite nsr fanfics (yes, he reads them) is "Road to Redemption," and there's a scene that takes place in a studio where the crew works on sayu, and he really likes that.

- the devs wanted sayu's name to sound both malay and japanese at the same time (as well as a nod to miku). haz says it means “warm water” in japanese.

- akusuka is a direct copy of akihabara in terms of locale.

- sayu’s shellfish commercial is a homage to a real snack in malaysia named mamee monster, which is hugely popular with kids. the format of the commercial itself was inspired by a pocky commercial that featured hatsune miku.

YINU

- her game design (for her boss fight) was partially done in ms paint by music director falk (who made the base version of her boss theme)

- yinu's mom doesn't have a name. she's just mother/mama.

- haz confirmed that yinu's father is, in fact, dead.

- daim thought yinu’s name was a nod to yuna (a popular malaysian artist). it’s not.

- natura is daim’s favourite district. he likes how calm it is compared to the others.

- daim said that they wanted a hint of hope in all three of yinu’s backstory photographs, to show that no matter how bad your life gets, there’s always that glimmer of hope and that good things can still happen.

1010

- the members of 1010 do not have any official names.

- the assets for the autographs were made by the artists at one of the partner companies working with metronomik on nsr. haz and daim didn't really have anything to do with making them, and while daim did approve them for the final game, he was sorta skimming through a bunch of assets along with the autographs, and he didn't realize what they really were at the time until later. haz is impressed with how the fans managed to decipher them.

- 1010's fight was purposefully put between yinu's and eve's as a break from the emotional stuff.

- michael jackson was used as a reference for 1010's animations/moves.

- the Bio Tactical Shield that you get for zuke after beating 1010 is a reference to BTS.

- tangibly related, but the collectable figurines are supposed to serve more as a backstory to vinyl city as a whole, rather than 1010 or neon j. daim describes the figures as what events were going on and what people were doing before the events of nsr.

- 1010’s appearance from older trailers (where they all looked the same) were actually placeholders. 1010’s actual designs weren’t finished yet when those trailers were released.

- parts of 1010’s designs (for their bodies/outfits) were inspired by tron uprising, a project that daim worked on.

- somebody asked why 1010 and neon j have sculpted butt plates. daim and haz have no idea, but daim suggested that ellie (who designed 1010) and jan (who did their character models) put them there to up the “sexy robot” factor.

- daim’s favourite member of 1010 is purl-hew/blue, and haz’s favourite is eloni/green.

- the members of 1010 were designed based on popular tropes in boy bands. rin/white is “the main guy,” zimelu/red is the “bad boy,” purl-hew/blue is the “cool guy,” haym/yellow is the “young/innocent one,” and eloni/green is the “weird/funny one.”

- eloni/green not getting fan mail was based on how the “funny guy” of kpop bands/idol groups don’t seem to get as much attention as the rest of the group.

NEON J

- haz and daim didn't expect neon j to become so popular. haz joked about blaming it on ddaddystar, who did that doodle of djss and neon j from the credits.

- when asked about neon j’s age, daim said he’s definitely older than djss, and that he could be in his forties.

- related to the age thing, someone in chat said he should be older if he went to war in the sixties. haz replied by saying they never mentioned what year the game takes place in, so it doesn’t necessarily take place in the present/2020.

- a lot of people asked about the border wars, and daim and haz said they like leaving the bulk of it up to fan interpretation.

- daim said that neon j’s organs were preserved in a robotic shell after the war, and that’s why he’s considered a cyborg.

- as stated above, daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- neon j’s monologue was slightly longer, but it was cut down because zul (neon j’s va) didn’t do very many takes for the monologue, and the takes he did do didn’t have the comedic punch that daim was looking for, so it got shortened.

- the singing parts of neon j’s lines were ad-libbed by zul in his audition, and daim liked it so much that it stayed for the final game.

- neon j’s monologue had to be altered in the japanese dub so that the jokes/comedy would make more sense.

EVE

- the color changing paintings from her boss fight were created by accident.

- eve was put as the last boss because of how emotional her relationship with zuke was and how complicated and intricate she is as a whole compared to the rest of the bosses.

- daim considers eve to be the "final boss" for zuke, while tatiana is the final boss for mayday.

- eve took the longest to develop out of all the bosses. she was orignally a lot more complicated, and daim said they had to "filter" a lot of things about her in order to tone her down and fit her into the game.

- eve was almost scrapped from the game. daim said her concept as an eccentric artist wasn't as well known as the other four bosses’ concepts, and combine that with how long it took to finalize her... yeah.

- none of the artists have set in stone heights because of how the gameplay works, but eve is the tallest one. the closest scene in the game that has them at their actual heights is the ending.

- her name was originally eva, but it was changed bc there’s already a popular artist with the same name.

- daim explains that a big part of eve’s concept and theme is her embracing herself. he uses the example of eve’s backstory where she starts out hating herself and trying to cover the pink half of her face, but then starts doing less of that overtime. he also mentions that all the body parts (hands, arms, legs, etc.) from her fight also come from her embracing her body and using it in her artwork.

- dream fever is haz’s favourite district.

- daim didn’t originally think of zuke and eve as being an actual couple until later down the line when the story heavily implied it.

- eve’s younger designs were done by lzbros, who did all the 2d animation for the game.

[fae-redux]

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t. 

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter. 

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean. 

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him. 

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone. 

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes. 

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his. 

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life. 

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate. 

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason. 

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning. 

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls. 

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back. 

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

[orribuontheinternet]

Depression and Drawing.

When I was a young lass (I want to say around 7-8 years old), I saw my biological father drawing something while he sat on the porch. The details are fuzzy, but I do remember it being an equine of some sort. He was working in ink. Watching him was so fascinating that I decided that I too wanted to be an artist. To be able to imagine something and put it to paper was a foreign concept to me, one that I was excited about. Oddly enough, my first ever drawing was of an intangible concept: an emotion. I forgot why little me was so knee-deep in sadness at the time, but I remember doodling a self-portrait of a sad, crying baby Olive while holding back my tears. Underneath (or around, I can't recall) was a caption that kind of stated the obvious: "Olivia is sad." When I think about that moment, I wonder if that was a form of foreshadowing since I suffer from...well, Major Depression. But we'll get back to that later. I think this drawing was spawned from a conflict with my siblings, but I can't rightly recall. I do, however, remember that someone tore the picture to pieces. Then came the waterworks.

I want to pause for a second and let you know that I'm going to try not to throw a pity party. I'm not going to whine and stuff this note with melodramatic hyperbole. If you can stomach an emotional artist digging deep into her head and making her introspection tangible, I encourage you to keep reading. If not, I respect your decision to stop.

To segue on to a brighter note, I started drawing in elementary school. I remember the exhilarating feeling of finishing my work. My proudest moment, aside from a (not) Sonic-themed powerpoint, was a storybook I made in fifth grade. It was a flip book of some sort, and very colorful. I think it had something to do with James and the Giant Peach considering it was a book report. But that was an impression I left. Olive, the artist. This carried on into middle school, where I first discovered anime thanks to an art teacher who had the magic VCR/TV cart we 90s kids remember fondly. He showed us Princess Mononoke, one of Hayao Miyazaki's well-renowned works. It was um...horrifying. The film scared the everloving shit out of me, but I was intrigued by it. There was something really cool about the way the people looked, far different from the Ms. Frizzles and Rugrats I came to know. It captivated me, and when I got over the stomach-churning blood and guts the movie presented, I strove to attain that cool aesthetic. I was always doodling during my classes and lunchtime and recess. People came to know me as that kid that draws. Some of them flocked to me and asked me to doodle something for them. It was annoying in hindsight, but at the time it brought me immense pride. People were interested in something I was doing! This development boosted my motivation; I drew picture after picture, happily sharing it with anyone who was interested. It was invigorating! Then high school happened, and I realized I wasn't as amazing as I initially thought I was. In 2006 I was accepted into the prestigious Philadelphia Highschool of Creative and Performing Arts (henceforth shortened to "CAPA," as to avoid the apparent mouthful of syllables). I attended with a major in visual arts, which I took alongside my core classes, i.e., math, science, and English. The first few months were humbling, to say the least. I took ceramics, graphic art, and observational drawing. During this year, I also discovered the magic (to a 15-year-old anyway) of Naruto. That was my biggest obsession since the Dragonball Z/Rurouni Kenshin/Outlaw Star/Big O/etcetera days. Where I used to make "Dark Sonic" characters and the like,  I made a step towards creating a world of my own. Thus, after a painful defeat in an original character tournament, I decided it was time to start harnessing my writing and narrative skills, as well as my drawing skills. And so I strove to improve, even with those dents in my pride. It became something I was proud of, almost an obsession. I wanted to share it with the rest of the world, so I went for it.

(The first piece I’ve shared with the internet via deviantART.)

This is where my real artistic journey began. When I started, I had no idea of how mentally, physically, and emotionally tolling this would be. Half the time I've made things way more difficult than they've needed to be: sleepless nights, crouching over a desk, risky investments that granted little to no return and thus resulted in me digging myself into a deeper hole of debt, periods of psychological agony–I've experienced a great deal since I started creating these...things. In my naivety, I envisioned making money off of my creativity, having fun, meeting fans around the world, and hitting up cons like those really cool people I follow on the internet. I started comparing myself to more celebrated, experienced artists, to the point where I'd cry out of eye and earshot and wonder why I can't be as good as them. Why can't I be as skilled, or successful, I'd ask myself. This is when I should have realized that the Depression I suffer from has a voice. It'd tell me that I'd never amount to anything, let alone reach that level of expertise and fame. It was painfully merciless and cruel, and I was its punching bag. I'd start wondering what the point was and why I should even try to engage in this creative expression. Then, something tragic happened:

I realized I was falling out of love with it.

I didn't feel the same exhilaration I'd get when I finished something as simple as a little scribble. I didn't feel the warm burst of energy that I felt when I'd make a breakthrough.  I desperately scrambled for something–anything–that would rekindle my love for creating again. Then, after some introspection, I decided that I wanted to try for animation. It had always fascinated me during my time in grade school, so I did some research and even wrote a thesis about animation and why it inspired me. To an extent, the passion I have for the arts did come back a little, but it was just a spark. When I started college, I was reluctantly proud of myself. I started dreaming big again, thinking about how amazing it would be if I could create my own animated series and bring my narratives to life. And so, the dreams of being able to support myself and my family returned to the forefront of my mind, again. While I hopped and skipped through my first year at uni, I built a lot of friendships I never thought I'd have after a painful summer season. I thought back to how I tried and failed to start an art team and decided to go for it again. And thus, after planning gatherings and messing around with my friends, Exploding Fairies was born!

(Old Exploding Fairies logo.)

The Depression and my wounded confidence, however, wouldn't allow for anything to go past casual hangouts and being a nuisance to my teammates. Everything boiled down to three things:

1) I was unwilling to relinquish control of any of the facets of the alliance and our stories. To me, the story we worked on was my baby, and only I would have a say in whatever developments occurred. 2) I lacked the leadership and communication skills to collaborate with my partners effectively. 3) Considering the nature of my requests, I SHOULD have been paying my partners as an incentive. I lacked the money to compensate them for their time and talent adequately. I could very well be painting myself in a horrible light considering how terribly influential my depression is to my self-esteem. 

(The image above is by @cucoo.)

(Concept drawings of Dan’s actual identity.)

However, exposure and companionship don't necessarily pay the bills. Besides, I was still a "nobody on the internet!" I may as well have kicked sand in their faces. At least, that's what the disease told me. I grew bitter towards the world when Homestuck and a traumatizing anime gained the admiration of my friends. I became green with envy, wondering why my work didn't win such affection. That summer, I went into overdrive. I started an original character tournament of my own and gained a considerable following. I even found love again! 

After a busy three months, I jumped into my second year of college. This is when I finally collapsed under the weight of my mental ailments. Week after week, I stressed almost hyperbolically to the point where a single mistake could mean the end of the world to me. I officially started as an animation student (the first year was mostly core studies with elective and liberal arts on the side), and I wanted to bring my A-game to the forefront. I was going to wow everyone with my knowledge of technology while I navigated through the hills and valleys of my second year. I got to take a course in digital 2D animation, the media I've had my eyes on since I started my college career. Everything just hinged on whether I could manage my workload (I took 18 credits). Apart from the building stress, financial troubles, and impaired health, everything seemed fine. That notion, however, was shattered when I lost my progress on a 2D animation assignment. It was all over. All of that hard work that I put in (without saving, no less) was destroyed by a corrupted file. I didn't have a backup file ready for such an occasion. Admittedly, it was my fault for letting my guard down. I should have known better as a geeky artist!  To me, there was no way I could ever recover from that. I was an idiot and a crappy artist anyway! I was a failure! I was nothing! All of the horrible thoughts that my sickness cataloged was thrust into my conscious mind, impairing my ability to reason. Devastated and afraid, I called my crush and opened up about what happened. The pressure finally cracked me, and she had to talk me down from attempting suicide.

The turn of events affected everything, from my focus to my ability to complete my assignments. My crush advised me on what steps I should take while moving forward. I was hospitalized to prevent any harm I could bring to myself. I really DID want to escape from the unbearable pain my sick mind caused me. Eventually, I had to contact the dean of students and was referred to an affiliated therapist. After conversing with him and the dean, we all decided that it'd be best if I were committed to an outpatient program to start on the road to recovery. Fast forward to 2012 or 2013, when I completely lost faith in myself as an artist, and thus, my love for art. I didn't think it'd happen, but I hit what I conceived as rock bottom. I swore off drawing. It didn't bring me joy anymore, and why continue dabbling in something that I'd never be good at?

Unfortunately, the resulting slump turned out to be thicker than I'd imagine and I entered a state of deep depression. I rarely got out of bed, I overate and sometimes didn't eat at all, I never picked up a pencil or opened photoshop, never reached out to the people who I knew and who loved me...I was virtually dead to the world. Some good things happened that, in hindsight, I should have cherished. For starters, my crush became my girlfriend, and we lived together in an apartment in Center City. I was too smothered in the fog to show my appreciation and love for her adequately. She loved me and loved my work, which in turn brought back my passion for creating. If I couldn't financially support myself with my art, the least I could do is bring her joy and feed her imagination. 

(We both love semi-horror and anime, so our roleplays took that direction.)

Sadly, thanks to the disease even something as precious as her happiness wasn't enough. When I look back, I can see the hurt in her eyes, but during the time I had such horrible tunnel vision and was so disappointed about things not working out with my art that I couldn't sense that. Me, a self-proclaimed empath! My desperate greed and envy were my downfall, and I limped my way down the artsy-fartsy road. I'd draw fan art and create fan comics, only to become bitter about either the lack of replies or patrons on Patreon or the perceived disregard for any personal ventures I took. 

I did my first convention at Anime Impulse back in 2015, and after a pretty bad time in the artist alley, I swore off drawing again. I remember nights of staring blankly at the computer screen, smashing Command or Control +Z and ultimately throwing my stylus down, closing photoshop, and crying out of frustration. I remember pulling my hair and sobbing when I faced rejection. It was an incredibly painful time for me. That's not to say I still don't experience that now as I totally do, but something happened this year that strengthened my stride.

I posted something on Tumblr earlier this year about my frustration when it comes to creating art. It was specifically about how I get stuck in the "polishing" phase of building a webcomic page, but when I look back, I can actually attribute it to art in general. I became a "perfectionist." Nothing was impressive enough to finish or release, and I'd wind up with more works in progress than finished ones. My morale just kept dipping lower and lower, and finally, when picking up a webcomic project that I started more than a year ago, I vented my frustrations. To this, my crush, who became my fiancé some four years ago, replied with this:

"You polish because you’re not confident with your work because you're in an evolution phase. Fear holds you back. So you go back and edit. And edit. And edit. So stop the cycle. Kill the fear by not letting it have time to take hold."

Her words of encouragement and insight changed my perspective in ways I've never expected. It was almost like it triggered an epiphany or a breakthrough in my mind! I was reminded of her love and faith in me! With that came a ray of hope, that I could try again, and this time, throw my fear-induced caution to the wind! While my depression still has a voice and beats me down from time to time, I realize that it's just scared. I realized that when Brittany and I sat down and played through Celeste together. I related it to my sadness and anxiety surrounding art, and now I'm slowly getting back on my feet. I can't displace the blame and "use" my mental ailments as a scapegoat. I can't come up with excuses to give up on what I do. There is SOMETHING in creating visual media that breathes life into me.

(I started learning to let go.)

Looking towards the future, I hope I can look back on even these trying times and remind myself of where I was and how stronger I've become because of it. I'm still struggling with comparing myself to others and crashing into creative and motivational blocks, but someday I'll rise above it all. Besides, I should be doing it for me, right? The external validation should just be the topping on a sweet sundae.

That's why I keep drawing, in spite of the voice's apprehension. We're going to get through this together, I promise.