#and that's just the folder that IS organized

[bob-artist]

I'm gonna nerd out about comic process for a second!

That screenshot was from about a month ago, when I was coloring the first two episodes of Into the Smoke chapter 2. My coloring process is a little unhinged. First, I set up palettes, do base shading, and color basic backgrounds kind of simultaneously across an entire scene. So I'm actively working on 4-6 600dpi files with 60-200 final layers at a time. I also usually have a few references open from previous episodes.

(My iMac has beefy specs, and I never have any lag or performance issues, but I'm probably still driving it into the ground, lol.)

I do this stage on a non-screen tablet because I like being able to see everything at a straight angle on a very nice screen. (Mac screens are nicer than Wacom screens.)

After that, I fire up the Cintiq and do the actual serious work of shading.

I do most character shading in ITS with Kyle's lasso fill in PS. Almost all my shading on all my pages is done with two grayscale swatches (incidentally, #c2c2c2 an #e0e0e0) with different layer effects, and I just hit x to toggle between the swatches. I'll sometimes use white or a pale color for highlights, but my shading work is much more extensive than my highlights, and the shading colors are handled with gradient maps.

Backgrounds, highlights/lighting, and most of my other projects outside ITS are painted with brushes instead of lasso-filled. In addition to organizing my brushes by category, I have brush folders for specific projects, and I organize them so I can use keyboard shortcuts to sequence through the ones I use the most.

The first two episodes of ITS chapter 2 were really difficult to color because I hadn't colored an episode in like 8 months, so I had to re-learn how to do it. My natural style is more painted, so I kept accidentally over-rendering. It really took me until episode 3 to get the hang of it again.

I'm also much more comfortable with warm color palettes and warm lighting, so the sorta grungy cool palette for the interrogation room was a challenge. I need to do more cool palette and cool lighting studies. Episode 3 is back to warm, though! :D

Anyway, here you can see the in-progress color vs the final color!

And a few warmer palette panels with more typical shading for good measure. :)

[neishroom]

hii! i hope you're doing good. I just have a question to ask i hope i'm not bothering you, how do you manage to clean out your mods folder? like what are your tips. I feel like whenever i try to clean out stuff i don't use its hard because i try to tell myself i'll use it one day but then i never do

I export the households and lots that I care about so I don't lose that specific cc, and then I start a brand new mods folder.

I started out with furniture since that's where I tend to hoard the most cc. I gave myself a limit of 25GB of furniture and then started downloading furniture sets from creators I knew I'd use. After getting the foundational furniture cc and moving over the genetics and cc of my main household, I will use a mod manager. My old cc folder was pretty organized, so a lot of it moved cc from my old folder to my new mods folder and then sorted through the cc in batches of 100-300 files. I used mod manager to filter out the heaviest files first and gave myself a limit of 2-6GB of cc per folder (besides my furniture folder). Overall, I gave myself a limit of 55-65GB of mods, and as soon as I hit 60GB, I deleted everything from my old mods folder, lol. This is a bit tedious, and it took me two days. I had over 120GB of cc and rn I'm at 60GB. When I download new pieces of cc, I put them in my "Sorting" folder, then I force myself to open mod manager, look through the files I need to sort and delete what I don't want, and put everything in their respective places.

ALSO DELETE THE EXTRA VERSIONS OF CC YOU DONT USE. YOU DO NOT NEED 5 VERSIONS OF THE SAME CC HAIR WITH EXTRA STRANDS!!! And also, a lot of cc are just frankenmeshes of EA content so I got rid of items that were mesh edits.

I'll include some screenshots of how I organized my mods folder!

[savi-our]

Anti-harem OP Mage MC pt. 4.

☕I'm back! And I come bearing gifts!!! Hurray for pt 4 - sorry it's taken me so long. Now I also have to apologize for how one-shot like this is, but considering this idea has been running away with me for the past 3 parts already i decided to throw caution to the wind and make it even more personal - sorry not sorry lol? In any case I hope you enjoy, at this point this is viable to turn into a 10 pt. series so we're just taking it as it comes lmao.☕

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning! Includes mentions of injury, blood and attempted murder!

It was a good two weeks since your relocation back at the headquarters and the days had been moving forward with a practiced ease. Your old routines kept you busy, and the daily life was simple, even as an active mage.

The business with your sudden mission in Mtt. Ebbott had produced exemplary results and all was moving along as planned. The rebuffed monster population had regained mastery over their magic, and had since been moved up on the long queue of the integration processes. 

Your excellent handling of the issue won you praise, both from Monster officials as well as the Archmage and so you had been stationed back at your post, with talks of a bonus to keep you well motivated. Your return home however - was slightly more bumpy than you had expected.

Apparently your quick departure was well noticed, and news of your return had spawned two skeletons straight at your doorstep before you could even take off your coat.

Black had barged in, a mixed flurry of emotions on his face as his eyes widened at the sight of you frozen at your desk, blinking up at him in surprise at his unexpected visit. He approached you with wide steps, an irked tinge to his eyelights as you stared at him in confusion.

“YOU'RE BACK.” He stated, and you nodded, slowly, confused by his sudden appearance in your office.

“WHERE WERE YOU?” He had asked, crossing his arms across his chest and tapping his foot against the floorboards - whether it was out of anxiety or irritation you couldn't quite tell.

“Work.” You answered simply, sitting down in your desk chair with a low exhale, tired from the journey and the many sleepless nights spent tying up loose ends back Underground.

“YOU DIDN'T SAY YOU WERE LEAVING.” Black continued, staring down at you across your desk and you rose a brow at him. You didn't exactly owe him an explanation, or even a goodbye - if anything it was the other way around. The brothers answered to you whilst they were here, you were responsible for everyone on base - so the line of questioning was odd. 

Before you could rightly respond, a tall frame slinked in through your doorway. Mutt - distracted by the phone in his hand, reading something with a pinpoint focus before his gaze lifted and landed straight on yours. His expression shifted almost instantaneously, eyes widening and his slight scowl lifted.

“yer back.” He noted and you huffed, amused by the similar reactions of the two brothers.

“Yes, I’m back. Did you two need something?” You asked, turning the question to both of them as you shifted through the many folders on your desk - more work piled up in your absence, all of the documents that your replacement didn't have enough clearance to take care of or so it seemed.

“are ya hurt?” Mutt approached closer and the question had pulled you out of your organization, staring at him blankly - confusion in your eyes.

“No? Why?”

Black’s gaze darkened, and all of a sudden he walked around your desk, standing close to your side, eyelights scanning over you with a familiar scrutiny as you blinked up at him, confused.

“PARDON ME.” Black excused, but before you could even ask what about he took your wrists in his gloved hands and pulled you up on your feet. You stared at him as he held your arms to your sides, examining you closely as he scanned his gaze down your form.

“What… are you doing?” You had asked, and Black's eyes narrowed. He turned you around, your back to his front and continued his examination, you turned a questioning look towards the taller of the brothers, asking for some sort of explanation.

“you… disappeared, nobody could tell us where ya went, so…” Mutt huffed, face turned to the side - a dark look to his eyes. All of a sudden the pieces seemed to click.

“Ah, you thought I was-...” Dead, or hurt, but the words didn’t cross your lips, based on the tightening grip on your arms and the scrunch in Mutts brow bone, you didn't need to. It wouldn't be odd, considering the dangers of your profession - many of your friends had gone out on a mission only to never return - it was… the unfortunate reality of your job.

You realized then that they had been worried. You had been gone for weeks and with nobody on base knowing or being allowed to tell them your business, you understood how they might have come to that conclusion. 

It was… heartwarming, in a weird amusing way. Not many people worried about you, as capable as you were - many took the question of your safety in a humorful and unserious way. Not without reason - but the fact that they seriously considered your safety was… well, nice.

You huffed, eyebrows raising as a bemused smile crossed your lips. You pulled Black’s hands away from you and turned to him, a warm look in your eye as you looked him over - stiff and expression mixed, gaze avoiding yours as he cast it away and to the side. 

“I'm okay, I swear it.” Your words were simple as you laid a warm hand on his shoulder in reassurance. It made him turn to you, a hint of something vulnerable hidden deep within his eyes. He lifted a hand hesitantly towards the one you had laid on his shoulder, his fingers wrapping around it, a single squeeze that prolonged the contact before he gently pulled both of them away.

“YES, WELL, GOOD.” He cleared his throat, straightening and pulling both of his hands behind his back. You could have sworn you saw the light hint of a magical glow on his cheeks, but your attention was soon pulled elsewhere as Mutt leaned against your office desk, placing his weight on it in a halfway sit.

You had to wonder since when had both of these skeletons grown so comfortable around you, you didn't remember them being quite as… bold before your departure.

“so, where were ya?” Mutt asked, a level and unreadable look to his eyes as you raised your brow. Seems like ‘work’ wasn't a good enough explanation for either of them.

You sighed, sitting back down in your chair, an amused glint to your eyes as you explained.

You told them what you could - without giving away any sensitive information that is -  and it seemed to placate the two brothers, albeit slightly. Their curiosity was invasive at worst, but they understood why you were being as vague as you were - your job permitted very little leeway in terms of classified official business, and seeing as both of you came from differing branches there was very little you could share - even if it was technically Underground business.

The days flew by without issue after that, same old routines, same old grievances, same old dealings with pompous and self centered officials. The only difference was that you were beginning to find yourself in skeleton company far more often than before. 

Black had started visiting you during daylight hours, small meetings whenever the two of you had a moment of free time. He often brought coffee with him, something you were grateful for considering the long hours you were once again spending filing away the mountain of paperwork that had collected on your desk. You spent many a coffee break together, talking about the goings on across headquarters, and you began to notice how whenever you had to pop out for an emergency mission outside of protected territory, Black always seemed to find himself in your office, looking you over and scanning you for injuries - always denying his apparent worry under the pretense of official business. 

Mutt also seemed to visit you more often, but now instead of just staring at you he chose to start up conversation - and your opinion of him quickly changed. At first glance he seemed to be quiet and reserved, if not a bit apathetic to all of the goings on at base - whereas now that he had begun to look for conversation, you found him to be a lot more bold. He was filled to the brim with quick witted and teasing commentary, often messing with your colleagues and giving them more work to do. You would have reprimanded him - but considering he ever really messed with people you were on poor terms with - you let him get away with it. Every now and again he threw a pick up line your way, and you rolled your eyes whenever he had, knowing he was trying to charm his way out of trouble.

It was something to get used to, you weren't known for socializing during work hours, especially considering your reputation - many of your relationships were purely business oriented and whatever friends you had kept from your lesser known early days were busy with their own dealings.

Being a mage meant keeping up your guard, almost constantly. You never knew which sunrise would be your last, which shared meal would mark your last peaceful memory. It was a solitary life, a life which made you keep any close relations at an arm's length. All mages knew this, all mages knew what it meant to sign yourself over to the exalted and prominent Mage Circle. Many mages only formed relationships through arranged contracts - whether it be marriage or even companionships of a platonic nature, it was almost always connections bred out of mutual benefit rather than any emotional reasons.

You knew better than most what it was like, losing connections to the awful consequences of your profession. Whether it was the recruits back from your schooling days, or veteran combat mages you had met over the course of your career. It was a sad and tragic reality, one that kept many a mage awake during moonless nights.

It was the morning after one such sleepless night that you were notified of a fresh yet familiar face come to visit your office due to a scheduled meeting. A well known surgeon, one you had grown acquainted with during your time researching the monster population underground. You had asked him here for a personal request, one you had finally taken the time to get sorted even with all the work that currently sat idle on your desk.

You spoke to him at length about a procedure, one you had extensively researched and discussed with the more well known healers at headquarters. A spine realignment, a jaw restructure, a rehabilitation process. The meeting took you the better part of the morning to get through, and as the surgeon left, promising results, you had sighed, looking idly over the disorganized state of your desk.

It was a month longer before you finally saw the results of your efforts, sitting at your desk, idly sipping on a cold cup of coffee Black had left on your desk a few hours prior when a knock rang through the large wooden door of your office.

“Excuse me, there is someone here about a job application? Shall I send them away?” A known guard spoke through the door and a smile pulled on your face.

“No, let them in.” You spoke calmly, slowly pulling yourself up on your feet and moving to lean against the front of your desk, waiting for the new recruit to make their appearance.

The door opened with a slow creak, and you were once again met with a pale white face blinking over at you, his tall form straightening in recognition as his grin strained with the force of his smile.

“Long time no see Twilight.” You smiled over at him and he called your name before quickly closing the door and waltzing his way over to you. You had only half a second to brace yourself before his long arms pulled around you and he lifted you off the ground in a sweeping hug.

“YOU’RE THE HIGH MAGE?!” He spoke in a loud bafflement, and you chuckled as he placed you on your feet, his hands landing on your shoulders as he looked down at you.

He was even taller now, or so it seemed - the change in his appearance was as different as night and day. His teeth were straighter now, filed down and less discolored than before, a straight line of braces fastened and fixing his smile in a straight line. A pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, a magical film across the rims that kept them sitting prim and proper on his face. 

He looked good, healthy, the sight had made a weight lift off of your shoulders and a satisfied hum leave your lips.

“Careful, should you be lifting things this early?”

“NONSENSE, YOU'RE AS LIGHT AS A FEATHER!” Twilight enthused, a sparkled enthusiasm to his expression that made you chuckle. You highly doubted that, but you could hardly refuse his affectionate greeting after all of this time.

You took a while to reconnect, to ask him about his surgery, about his brother and about his continued integration process. He seemed in good spirits, and asked you about half a dozen questions about your profession and about why you had lied when you had come to the underground - all of which you answered.

It was about an hour later when the conversation slowed and you noticed Twilight's body language switch into anxiety.

“What's wrong?” You asked, head tilting in worry as you faced the tall skeleton, watching as his gaze flew about the room before it settled on you.

“I…I HEARD IT WAS YOU? THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED THE PROCEDURES.”

You shrugged, turning to take a seat behind your desk, looking up at the tall skeleton with a level gaze. “All I did was share some knowledge and hand out some phone numbers. It was nothing.”

Twilight's grin twitched, his hands folded together. You noticed the strained look to his eyes, the wet droplets of pooling magic hidden in the corners.

“...Thank You, I-... I Don't Know How To Repay You….” His voice was soft if not almost hoarse and a moment of silence passed between you. You leaned in, offering him a soft look, not minding the way his hand lifted to wipe at his eyes.

“You're welcome.” You nodded at him, offering a smile. He returned it with a shaky one of his own, and you shared a long look. 

It was a moment before you broke the silence, clearing your throat and sliding a sheet of paper across your desk and pointing it his way.

“As for a way to repay me… Think you’re feeling well enough to work?” You asked, a coy smile softly gracing your expression and as you watched Twilights expression brighten, it was all the answer you needed.

It wasn't long before Twilight started working as your personal assistant - a position left unoccupied for entirely too long, you had realized that fact after spending time in the Underground. It was such a simple thing, but the way it affected your work was massive.

Twilight was a big help, even with the fact that you ever really allowed him to handle light organizational and scheduling tasks whilst healing - you wouldn't put his health at risk over some old, dusty paperwork after all. Working with him was easy, both of you slid into the practiced routine you had developed back at your previous assignment, he handled most of the little things and helped you prioritize your chaotic schedule. What's more is the fact that along with Twilight, you had sneaked in an extra visitor pass as part of his sign-on bonus.

Dusk had been slightly bewildered the first time he had visited your office, his silence daunting even as you threw your greetings at him. He had just stood there, as if trying to remember something just barely out of reach before Twilight had snapped him out of it.

It took a while for him to place you, place the environment, but as you recited one of his cannibalistic puns that he had told you one early morning back at your previous post, his grin shifted and turned wide - his red eyelight dilated as his shoulders relaxed in recognition.

“cupcake.” He drawled out and the word had made you blink up at him in confusion, cupcake?

“BROTHER! USING PET NAMES IN THE OFFICE IS HIGHLY UNPROFESSIONAL!”

“Pet names?”

Was Dusk giving you a pet name? You turned to him, brow raised, a humor filled smile on your face. The giant shrugged, slow, his one big eye watching you with a relaxed familiarity.

“makes it easier… to remember.” He explained in a low rumble. You found it a bit odd, but who were you to judge? Considering how difficult it was for him to remember things - not to mention people - in general, it was flattering to even know that he had made the attempt at recalling you.

“Huh… alright then.” 

Cupcake it was.

Weeks flew by, your new assistant proving his worth many times over as your work intensified, a consequence to the many new monsters filing into temporary housing after your job well done in the Underground. Dusk visited often, mainly during mealtimes to bring both you and his brother food. You had told him that it was alright, that you would make sure to take care of yourself, but he hardly listened - it seemed he gained some sort of enjoyment from it - almost as if finding an old routine and restarting it all over again.

The only issue with your newfound visitors was that your old ones seemed to take issues with them. The first time Black had walked in on the three of you sharing a meal had been messy. He had questioned them, a loud and baffled screech to his tone as he looked for answers to either of them being here - Twilight answered many of them, only to be interrupted by the low growl of his brother by the sudden appearance of Mutt. The skeleton had teleported straight into Dusk's lap, and leaped right out of it in a defensive frenzy as he threw an accusing finger their way.

It had turned into an interrogation, one which you somehow managed to placate and bring to a close, a whining headache growing in your temple from the whole interaction.

Unfortunately their relationship remained strained, they often clashed, throwing each other heated glares and unsatisfied growls whenever they all came to be together in your office. You had tried to resolve it, tried to question both sides what the apparent cause for either of their aggression was, but none of them gave you a straight answer.

It was after one of such fights - concerning who was allowed to go with you to dinner of all things - that you were making your way back to the office. A distracting migraine in your temple and a flurry of thoughts in your mind as you opened the door.

It was three steps into the office when the world spun out on you. 

You fell to your knees, hand clutching your mouth and nose, a sharp, piercing pain in your lungs. 

You had moved it away, a pool of blood dripping through your fingers.

Your vision fell dark, a cold grip on your insides, and the last thing you remembered was the door opening and several panicked shouts of your name.

You had woken up days later, exhausted, confused and in pain. You had been taken to a hospital, the intensive care unit - bed surrounded by several worried eyelights. 

Words of worry, of regret and of anger all muddled in your mind, you could barely make them out in the haze, and as the nurses came in, an accompanying official mage came in with them.

He explained the situation, as well as offered you his condolences.

A tasteless, scentless, airborne poison had been placed in your office, invisible to the naked eye and deadly to all of those who needed to breathe to survive.

It was deemed as an attempt on your life.

The base had flown into an uproar - the political implications of such an assassination attempt were dire, and many an investigation was done all across the premises to determine a possible suspect or suspects - alas, the guilty party had been careful and had left no traces behind.

The situation set alight emotions in you which you would rather not name, thankfully you were spared from death - only due to the fact that you had taken to developing a resistance to poisoning early on in your growth to power. Many did not appreciate a young and solitary mage rising to power, many had shown their disapproval by sending mercenaries and assassins your way. It hadn't been your first time dealing with such things, so pinpointing a possible killer was difficult. There were too many that wished you dead, too many lusting after your seat by the Arch-mage's side.

Unfortunately your resistance to poisons had also been not enough to completely stop it from affecting you. You had lost feeling in all of your extremities - an impossibly numb and heavy feeling that cost you the use of your limbs. 

The healers assured you that they could fix it, that it was only temporary, but it would take time to reach a complete revival of your senses.

You were bedridden, and therefore forced to take medical leave from your post. 

Surrounded by worried colleagues and more than angered skeletons, you assured them of your mental wellbeing - this wasn't your first time dealing with grave injuries, keeping a calm mind was the first step in recovery. You told them simply that there was little you could do but trust that those who worked under you would take care of it. You asked them to keep vigilant, cautioned them about digging too deep into things. The people who would target a high mage were bound to be dangerous, you didn't want to place their lives at risk on account of vengeance.

It was the day after your issued leave that you found yourself at home, a hired nurse in your kitchen preparing you dinner when you noticed something out of place.

An unassuming letter, dyed black, a pure red wax seal keeping it closed and laying on your nightstand. 

You recognized the mark laid on it, and a severe look crossed your eyes. 

It seems you had an old acquaintance to visit.

[cxncordia]

"You don't know half of it, Mike. If you did, you wouldn't be so open and brash about your status in the FBI." Addison admitted, taking off his glass and setting them aside. Okay, if he needed to be truthful then, so be it. He pulled out a box of cigarettes and lifted it up, getting permission from Mike to light one with a gesture.

"Let's start by the basics: your organization works for a bigger and more suspicious organization called The Technocratic Union. We just call them the Technocracy." A pause to take a breath, letting each word fall on it's own weight. "A group of individuals who believe that submission and control are the key to keeping Reality in check... and they will use whatever force, —political, propaganda or even military force—, to achieve their goal and whatever gets in their way. As long as the masses remain asleep, they will continue reigning." Addison then turned up to meet Mike's gaze, gouging how far he was going with. One thing was to reveal that his grandpa was not whom he said he was, another one to reveal that he had been working to support the bad guys.

"I'm not saying you specifically, but some in your organization definitely are in cahoots with the Technocracy," Addison admitted. "And some of the people that your organization has captured were to support the fascist agenda of this shadow government." The lawyer then proceeded to pick out, from his own messenger bag, a folder that he extended to the young blonde man. A soft huff left Addison's lips and then continued. "Back in the day, your organization was not as well communicated, coast to coast information was not spread widely, which served well to a man known as The Doctor."

"A doctor by title, yes, but the reality is much worse." A sigh. "He was a doctor who performed a lot of human experiments. He was a mage like me, but a sick individual, a monster, if you will. He performed lobotomy on his patients, and once he did, his victims would become nothing more than a shell, a puppet to do whatever he willed them. He also experimented on the bodies of his victims, trying to see if there was a way to create a superhuman." A huff. Just thinking about it, he felt his stomach turn and twist. "The main problem was that the man belonged to the Technocracy. A well known and respected surgeon who used his position to cover-up his tracks." Addison closed his eyes, wishing to not remember all of the gruesome details as best as he could, but he didn't. They were there, haunting him forverer. "The Doctor was known for creating thralls, enslaved humans, out of his own lobotomized victims. At one point he had a young adult enslaved and then forced to kill his own family in a gruesome mimicking act."

All the evidence collected on such matter had been stored in multiple files and photographies, some of them taken by Joseph himself, which Addison had extended to Mike know in order to prove his point. The photos were violent and gruesome, depicting a group of individuals, all of them having the heart and brains taken out with precise skill. "The lobotomized victim's name was Richard Harrison. And the attack was not random: The Doctor planned every movement because he made sure to leave enough evidence to pin this crime on Robert Harrison, Richard's twin." Mike had the dossier of both brothers in file. One depicted all the chronic maladies that afflicted Richard: depression, anxiety, melancholy and even transvestism, back at a time where dressing up as a woman was a mental deviation. The other file however contained much different information.

"It wasn't a random attack: he made sure that the attack seemed similar to a ritual performed by Egyptian priests back in the day, because Robert Harrison was none other than a member of our council. He belonged to the Euthanatoi, a group of individuals who believe in Death and Reincarnation." A pause, again, Addison wanted to make sure that Mike was indeed following him. "The Doctor had every intention to have Robert take the fall and make us way weaker... and he even enforced it by having your agency aprehend him and jail him." Addison shook his head, the disdain that he had for the institutions back then was still ever present. "Until I took the case to support Robert and thanks to the clever insight of Joseph, I was able to create a defense and prove his innocence." A smile. "I was able to save his life and show the world, the real world, not the one ruled by the Technocracy, the truth. That the man who did it was not him but the Doctor."

There was so much more that could be said, so much more history to unveil, but Addison decided to leave it as it was, for the moment.

"I hope this can give you some clarity, at least," Addison added. "Because if you really want to help, then it's good to know what you are truly fighting against."

‘Yeah? Well, maybe you should.’ Mike cleared his throat, turning to pour himself another drink. 

‘Or maybe you can sit down and tell me the truth. Everything.’ He sipped the drink before facing Addison. ‘Everything you have about the original case. Filling in the gaps for your…’ He shook his head, unable to find the words for the supernatural element. ‘And then I’ll see how helpful I can be.’ 

He took another sip, licking the remnants from his lips before leaning back against the table that faced the couch. ‘So, you can either do that. Or you can leave without fucking with my head. Those are your two choices.’ 

He held up a finger with the hand that wielded the glass. ‘And before you even think about a third, less pleasant option, I’m a Federal Agent.’ Addison didn’t look like the type of guy to attack him out of nowhere, especially as weak and tearful as he seemed right now. But Mike had seen men like Addison try to take out whole families. People were capable of anything. 

‘And I’m not trying to stomp on you, yet. And maybe the FBI won’t, if they have someone in on this case.’ 

Sure, Mike had lied about how close to law enforcement he was. But if he was going to be any use, he needed Addison on the same page.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Since my crap is disorganized across multiple computers, laptops, notebooks, and handwritten scraps of paper, I've been trying to organize my music compositions. Having been "composing" (let's use the word liberally) since I was four, there are hundreds of songs to document. As I've been rediscovering hidden gems and endearing crap, I've been reflecting on my... naming trends. How musical creativity does not necessitate Title Creativity. How successfully I can ward folks off before they hear a note.

Broad music title naming habits include:

1. Traditional formal classical music

• Barcarolle Sereno • Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major Movement 1. Moderato • Con Amore • Dance in Bb Minor • Ostinato Cantabile

2. Lazy-ass description of what it is

• Assignment 11 • Melody Assignment 1 • Flute Duet • Barber Mimic • Mobile Game Song

3. Brief Latin phase, please stop

• Monstrat Viam • Deo Volente • Continua Astrum

4. Functional title, sometimes basic, sometimes cool

• Portrait of a Friend • Winter Blossoms • Necrosis • Horizon • Nucleotides • Z-Score • Fox in the Henhouse • Upon a Starry Night

5. Abstract Quasi-Poetic Angst

• Reasons to Hope • Take Back What's Mine • Like Rainfall • Return to Heart • When the Skies Darken • Tribute to an Ideal • Tearful Thank You • Indefinite Forever • Defiant Hope

6. Tried too hard sounding cool and unfortunately you were ten

• Corridor to the Ethereal • In Secret to Be Told • 'Lectri’ Twelve Strin’ Guitar • Expanses of Fantasy

7. One of the lines in the song, highlighting how bad the lyrics are

• Help Me to Follow You • I Am Not Quite Sure Yet • Because My Friend's Sick • Do You Know the Way

8. That's just the name of the commission

• Mixed Emotions Movement 4. Closer and Credits • Vagina Monologues 2. One Billion Will Rise for Justice • Vampire Survival Guide • Paradox

9. Conlanger flex, no one will be able to pronounce or remember this. Ever.

• Ohd Thak-Shu • Xhavhukfi Zoqudou • Veh nah Dii’hs • Nidia Kila • Tavhlovmindada • Ehyiib

10. I had no idea for a title and typed random crap when I clicked "save"

• Sneak • Sneakify • Sneaking • Sneaky-Sneak • SoGow • Klongilonga • Quiiiiiptail • Da Da • Hihoppadada • Colon KayjayK buy2 (originally ;kjk;kjk a literal keysmash)

11. I'm not going to admit I have a song named this

• Don't Spit Your Eyes Out • Shake Your Bootchy Bottom • It Takes a Bike to Beat a Bus • Bunny Bunny Days • Please Let Me Eat the Microphone • Yo I Said It’s Space

12. Still untitled; each new recording is "comp idea," "name," "rename," "you really need to name this," "take 5," "take 5.1," "take 5.12," "redo this sucks," "I swear I play banjo," "delete later," "deleeeeeet," "out of tune," "still out of tune," "this one's good," "THIS ONE," "best," "best2," "BEST VERSION", "awwwww yeah"; and for some strange reason it's hard to refind these recordings a month later

[kirby-the-gorb]

[kwillow]

Screaming and running around in circles in my enclosure bc I’m so excited about your game ✨

THANK YOU... Chocodile is hard at work getting the game ready for its next major beta and we're both stoked to get all the new scenes and features out there! You can follow more progress over at @wishbonegame!

Just for fun, have more Theo screenshots that I haven't posted here yet.

[bilolli]

[ink--theory]

*points* gay

[invinciblerodent]

"I love all of my companions equally," she says, and then this is what her damn camera roll looks like (it's me, i'm she)

[porcupine-girl]

Curious, because my husband and I are trying to help our 8th grader get shit organized and apparently we had VERY different approaches as teens:

In middle/high school, how often did you throw away graded work (homework, quizzes, etc) from your classes? If it varied (by class, year, etc), go with what you did most often.

[hewoweens]

prettiest shot in inid. if you even care

[ryuki-draws]

Ghosts of N°1 and N°2 in the data storm: Are we a joke to you?

@sharpdistances As an EVA enjoyer I can only confirm it bleeds all over my EPs interpretations and headcanons in this AU :'D

[sainz100]

Gabriel Bortoleto | x

[idle-compy]

when did i fucking draw this

[milton-national]

btw does dndads s2 have a tagline title like s1 is "odyssey" or am i going to be subjected to the torment of losing my organization system to woke