#but i really like drawing it like water. artist’s dilemma

[vinnigami]

god i love how you draw the nahobino’s hair i love the water aesthetic you do with it you need so many kudos

THANK YOUU his hair is so very fun to draw

I’ve been entranced by his hair flowing like water and it compels me to do a great many things (attempt animation when I do not animate in the slightest)

[hella1975]

hella can u give me a visual description of some of ur ocs for toab i need to draw them

anon is facing the classic dilemma of taob readers since the dawn of time (august 2020) and for once im gonna actually do something about it so i present unto you, artists of tumblr dot com, an exhaustive rundown of taob oc descriptions:

kanut: i feel like kanut is one whose appearance is pretty solidified now. he has white hair that falls down to the base of his back that he typically pulls back into a half-knot, with a short white beard. go grandpa go. he's described as generally having a 'rough' 'sea-faring' apperance bc he's one of those people that really doesnt give a fuck about appearance especially when it has nothing to do with his healing, so while he wears the typical water tribe clothing, he'll usually have his sleeves rolled up or stains on his tunic etc. he has blue eyes and isn't very muscled because he stays out of all combat due to being the healer, but he's one of the taller tribesmen. he has those scars on his hands that cover his palms and knuckles and quite sharp features.

chena: COLOSSAL freak of a man. like i wanted him to be comically large seeing as i was working with a kids show universe where shit like that happens, so zuko literally just stands past this man's ELBOW. fucking giganotosaurus rex. he's incredibly broad and muscled as well as just tall, very thick-necked and beefy face. like it's v important to me that chena's muscle isn't the streamlined, airbrushed kind; he's a total beefcake. he's COVERED in scars like he has a specific slit in his eyebrow that needs to be mentioned bc ZUKO GAVE IT HIM but aside that honestly go ham with the scars. his eyes are grey but more of a blueish grey, and he has dark brown hair that he does quite detailed braids in to pull back out of his face and fall down his back.

tomkin: he's v skinny/lanky and trying very hard to look bigger than he is. he wears his dark brown hair in a warrior's wolf tail and effectively looks like an older, less-burdened-by-The-Horrors version of sokka. he does tend to style the braid part of his wolftail to come out of his hair a little though instead of lying flat bc he thinks it makes him look taller (it doesn't). his eyes are a very light blue.

nanook: he has shoulder-length hair that's a light brown colour but ive realised some people mean 'nearly blonde' when they say light brown whereas i just meant 'not nearly black' like a lot of the other warriors. he wears a bead on one of the front strands and it usually falls so that it's sitting by his jaw. nanook is the tallest of the tom nook & ko trio and he's pretty toned but more in a 'has actually grown into himself' kind of way than a 'seasoned warrior' kind of way. he has a round face and generally looks very steady and calm. he has a birthmark on his hand (between his thumb and forefinger) that looks like a wave and he wears ivory bracelets on each wrist.

aput: IDC WHAT YOU DO WITH APUT BUT KNOW HE'S HOT. HE IS THE FIT ONE OF THE SWT. HE'S THEIR CASANOVA. MAKE HIM ATTRACTIVE OR DIE BY MY BLADE. he has black hair that falls to around shoulder length and he doesnt usually style it in any way, and he's the second burliest in the group. he's got a much more lean muscle than chena and it makes him quicker, so fighting-wise those two are almost evenly matched (chena just wins out though. pure aggression will get you everywhere). aput has a sharp jaw and deep blue eyes

tulok: he's the smallest of the adults and has brown hair that falls to the middle of his back. he usually just braided it back or wore it in a style very similar to korra's with the blue ribbons, but since shuhon prison he's been wearing it in an earth kingdom braid. he's easily the most put together of the group bc he has a real thing for keeping clean and tidy, so his clothes are always pristine and his personal grooming is always up to date.

tovah: she's incredibly tall and lithe with sleek, black hair that falls to her hips that she wears in a PERFECT ponytail like not a HAIR out of place. she's all sharp angles and narrowed green eyes and she tends to wear earth kingdom uniform. her skin is tanned and she doesn't visibly carry any weapons on her unless she's undercover in the army and they're military-issued.

some references from beautiful fanart i have the absolute pleasure of being gifted! i wish i could put every bit of art ever made for my ocs here but im going mainly off whose showed up first when going through the tag and also any that i think just Really Captured how i personally see the character in my mind:

this portrait of kanut by @pyro-bee

atla-style tovah by @lordrei

tom nook (+ zuko) by @gloomybirdie

tovah elle woods supremacy by @herebutnotpresent

another pyro-bee kanut by @pyro-bee

tovah character sheet by @herebutnotpresent (this one is SUPER helpful)

and tons more under the 'taob art' tag if it helps!

[babymilkawa]

I couldn’t see if the requests were open or not so feel free to ignore this if they are closed! I LOVED your ballet piece and I don’t even do ballet lmao,, can you do the same thing with maybe a painter s/o? Like maybe they are working on a canvas or something? Or a different scenario where they just see their s/o concentrated on a canvas if you want to change things up! Again with todoroki and maybe with tamaki or any other charavters you feel like! Thank you so much if you write this and if now I really like your stuff even thought I just found you

aww I’m sry I’ll add my status on my bio cos my pinned post is getting kind of crowded but anon omg u read my mind! I was just thinking of doing an artist s/o <3

artist s/o headcanons with:

todoroki shoto, tamaki amajiki, bakugou katsuki

gn!reader :)

todoroki shoto

whenever the two of you are chilling in your dorm, you just pull a canvas up and start painting

he’s like where’d you even pull that out from?

but the atmosphere is quiet and peaceful

if you don’t want him to look at the wip only the final result (like me), he’ll respect that and sit in front of you

but if you’re ok with him watching you paint, he’ll just pull up a chair next to you and just s t a r e

won’t say anything cos he doesn’t wanna break your bubble

but is fascinated

how do you do it? how do you look so beautiful and wow how do your hands just make works of art like that?

even if ur not proud of some of ur pieces, he thinks they’re all great

because he knows how much effort you put in them

to him, ALL of them are masterpieces B)

and omigod if you draw him?? he’ll melt into your hands

will treasure it SO much

maybe even have little drawing games like drawing each other’s face

his paper will have hearts all over it and even if it looks bad, u appreciate the effort <3

if you guys are lying around, he’ll just take your hands and stare at them

kissing in between them, on your palm, or your wrist

he’s thinking like these...these are the hands that create art

tamaki amajiki

the first time you do it, he’ll just sit there

speechless

and if you turn and catch him staring, he’ll turn away and go “oh wow that’s a cool eraser”

“could you pass that to me babe?” You ask

“s-sure yea”

he is often in a huge dilemma at times like this

like does he stare at ur beautiful face?? or does he look at the art ur making with those beautiful hands??

very confused

after you’re done you ask him what he thinks and he’s :O

will 192938299% encourage you if you put it up for show or on the internet

takoyakiboy72: i have never seen anything this beautiful...except maybe the artist

if you randomly send him sketches of him or his favorite food, he’ll rly put them in a special place in his heart

he has a whole chamber for you in his mind and every single file cabinet is a memory

ur art is in one of them ;)

let’s say you mess up

he’s by your side immediately before you freak out and either gets a paper towel to clean it up or gives you suggestions on how to fix it if it’s too late to turn back

if u go for hours at a time without taking a break, he’ll bring in water and snacks and will feed you cos u have paint stains on ur fingers

ur #1 fan yessir 😌

bakugou katsuki

boy is damn annoying

if u don’t want him to see the wip, he’ll tease you first

try to sneak around you or get a mirror or lay his head on ur lap to take a littttleee peeeaak

earning a flick to his forehead of course

but he knows that u knows he’s joking

if u start to get annoyed and say that he’s distracting you, you will not hear from him until you finish

UNleSsss you want him there

no hesitation, head on ur lap, admiring your face

yk sometimes he’ll just walk in ur dorm if ur not in there and just sit on ur bed

and stare at the works of art on ur wall

like it’s some kind of museum

If u get a little insecure or don’t wanna hang it on the wall he’ll hype you up or offer to put it at his dorm

u need to feel confident cos ur his s/o ok 😠

if u post it online, lordexplosionmurder420 will spam and hype up everything

he is ur supplier for art supplies

yes he sponsors u 😌✨

if he even hears you try to squeeze a bottle of paint with some effort, he’s running to the store to get you a whole pack

washes your palette and brushes clean because “you worked hard shitty woman”

if u draw him, immediately goes why me??

cos u were practically carved by a god SIR

a/n: I’ve been wanting to write this for a while so thx for the ask!!

bnha masterlist

[withgirl-sq]

I posted 107 times in 2021

63 posts created (59%)

44 posts reblogged (41%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.7 posts.

I added 274 tags in 2021

#azutara - 45 posts

#azula - 42 posts

#avatar the last airbender - 41 posts

#katara - 38 posts

#azulara - 35 posts

#avatar azula - 28 posts

#breznick - 15 posts

#morgan reznick - 10 posts

#avalance - 10 posts

#claire browne - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 30 characters

#claire browne x morgan reznick

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Just a quick poll

I have too many fics right now so can’t decide what to work on, just wanted to see what people are most hoping to have an update for if you have read them. Because I have a serious problem, they are mostly from different fandoms so I’ll include those in the list lol-

- Searching for the Lyon - SwanQueen (Once Upon a Time)

- Why Do You Care? - Breznick (The Good Doctor)

- The Last Avatar - Azutara (Avatar The Last Airbender)

- Imagine Me and You - Avalance (Legends of Tomorrow)

On the off the chance that anyone has read my other stuff, please feel free to suggest any of my other unfinished fics which you can find here:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchgirl1234

22 notes • Posted 2021-12-05 15:09:46 GMT

#4

Avatar Azula AU- question

So I’ve started an Avatar Azula AU and I was just hoping to gauge how people would feel about an idea I had because I’ve really been on the fence about it 

The idea basically is around the fact that I would need someone to take Azula’s role in book 2 and 3 for a lot of the plot and I was wondering what people would think if this person was Lu Ten

This would be an AU where he was taken as a prisoner at Ba Sing Se and Iroh believed he was dead and by the time he returned to the Fire Nation, Iroh had already left with Zuko so he doesn’t know that he is alive and Ozai could send him after Azula as a way to regain his right to the throne

Obviously this would be an OCC Lu Ten and I may have to make him a bit younger, but I just think it could be an interesting dilemma for Iroh to deal with while he is also trying to balance helping Zuko/Azula? 

I was just hoping to see if people would find this as interesting as I have (even as a very underdeveloped idea since I’m a long way from Book 2)?

[I should also mention that I’m not one for angsty endings for characters I like so he would likely get help from Iroh by the end if I ever get that far with the idea]

24 notes • Posted 2021-04-13 20:42:57 GMT

#3

What's your favorite azutara headcanon?

Thank you for the ask!

So I love the idea that Azula absolutely hates the cold (like the extreme cold of the Water Tribes) but everyone thinks that it doesn't bother her because she's a firebender. Katara (and possibly Kanna?) is the only one that notices how much it bothers her and makes it her mission to give her the warmest clothes she can because she knows that Azula loves everything else about the tribe

I also like the idea that Azula is a great artist and that she uses it as one of her therapy techniques after the war and that Katara loves seeing whatever she drew/painted. She particularly loves drawing things from the Southern Water Tribe because it's so different from the Fire Nation.

Also, not exactly Azutara, but I'm obsessed with a Azula and Sokka friendship. Like they would start of reluctantly agreeing to get along for Katara and then one day they would realise that they're actually best friends lol

Can't think of any more at the moment because most of my mind is usually occupied with head canons for my Avatar Azula AU (mostly for book 3/reuniting with Ursa) and I'm not sure if they're what you're looking for here! haha

25 notes • Posted 2021-11-25 20:14:40 GMT

#2

Azutara prompt: katara and azula have a daughter (kya) and they both have to go to attend some political affair but their daughter is pretty clingy and thinks her mommies are leaving her (kya is around 2 or 4)

Thank you for the prompt really enjoyed writing it!

Hope it was what you were looking for :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33835339

27 notes • Posted 2021-09-12 11:37:56 GMT

#1

Looking for ideas for an Azutara Halloween one shot so any suggestions would be appreciated 🙏

In a modern High School Au, what would these characters wear to a Halloween party?

Sokka

Suki

Toph

Zuko

Azula

Mai

Ty Lee

34 notes • Posted 2021-09-06 10:40:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #381

“don’t try to be the one person who has stayed just to say they never left me”

Do you feel bored with your life? Always. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? I sometimes miss Colleen, but I know it's for the better that we no longer associate with each other. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? I don't know, but a fuck of a lot. Thanks, Abilify. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. What do you miss about high school? Memories with Jason. What do you miss the most about college? Socializing. What was the best date you’ve ever been on? A triple date to an arcade w/ Jason and friends. What’s the last great song you discovered? The most recent one? I don't know, really. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Yeah. Don't like what I post, delete me. Have you ever done cocaine? Yikes, no thanks. Do you think you’ll ever get married? Do you want to? I sometimes wonder if I ever will. I'm scared of just continuing to be an unemployed leech that is doing nothing significant with her life, in which case it's like, why even be with me romantically. I feel like such a dead end street. I want to get married someday. Who do you care about the most? When it comes down to it, probably my mom. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want small gauges, actually. When it comes to clothing, are you the conservative type? Yes, because I hate my body and don't want others to see it. Do you enjoy eating? I wish I didn't. Have you ever ridden in a race car? No. Do you go out of your way to impress the opposite gender? No. Do you enjoy history? Not really, no. It bores me. Are you a pajama person or do you stay dressed all day? I'm just about always in my pjs. Do you value looks or personality more? Personality is way more important. Have you ever changed religions? Yeah. Born Roman Catholic, converted to Christianity when I further understood the differences, then I went to how I am now: I believe in something(s), but I don't quite know what. I wouldn't call myself a Neo-Pagan, but it's what I relate most to. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? I would for like, my wedding. Foo fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm actually not a big fan of either. Are you a fan of the SAW movies? I don't really watch them. Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? My two immediate sisters, I'm sometimes a year off. All my others, yes. :x Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew, of course. I really don't like Sprite now, which is ironic because as a kid, it was my favorite soda. Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah. Have you ever worked as a cashier? That was one of my duties when I worked at a dollar store. If you are on birth control that allows you take pills and skip your period, how often do you opt to skip it? How come? My birth control doesn't allow me to skip, but rather, it regulates it. Is there a book series where you loved the first book, but for some reason the other books in the series just didn’t measure up? I can't say that, no, as most series I just kinda fell out of, like The Hunger Games. LOVED the first book, started the second, and even though I was enjoying it, I just stopped for some reason? Are there any stores/restaurants that you would like to shop/eat at, but there aren’t any located near enough to you? Haha yeah, like lots of west coast fast food places like Jack n' the Box or however it's formatted. If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I don't even want kids, so honestly, I'd be stoked if I learned I was infertile. Wouldn't need to worry about the chance of getting pregnant and facing an abortion dilemma. Is there something that you did not used to take seriously, that you either now take seriously or wish that you had in the past (e.g., a relationship that you miss, your education, etc.)? Hm. I don't know. Are there any subjects that you are interested in so much that you would read whole books or academic journals about them? Meerkats, especially. I will read EVERY scientific article about them I find. Are you physically affectionate with your friends? I'm a hugger. When you were in middle school and high school, did you witness a lot of bullying? How did the teachers react to name-calling or violence? Not really, thankfully. Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yeah. I have a cousin who's really good at drawing, and my sister is a wonderful cake decorator. Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your gf/bf? My hypothetical bf/gf, no. Would you ever donate blood? I have before, and I would again if I knew I was hydrated enough and the opportunity was right there. Would you rather drink coffee or tea? Ugh, neither. Do you get easily embarrassed? YES. How long was your longest make out? TMI alert, like all night. If the person who hurt you most said they’re sorry would you believe them? I honestly don't know. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. What color is your mum's car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nope. Are you happy with your eye color? I wish they were a more sapphire blue. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Absolutely liquid body wash. What color do you want your dream car to be? Baby pink. *-* Do you have more then one favorite band? I say I do, but at the same time I know Ozzy Osbourne will ALWAYS be #1. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship? In a relationship. But it's absolutely not something I'm about to force just for the sake of being in one. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? Nah. Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both. Do you know anyone that's pescatarian? No. Someone I watch on YouTube is, though. Are you shy or over confident around your crushes? Super shy. Do you think the govt. has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? Hell, I think it's very well possible, but I lean more towards for financial hoarding, they simply don't further pursue potential cures that are discovered. I mean, just THINK about all the "future cures" you've read or heard about. It's fucking outrageous. It's all to fuel the medical industry. Okay, tin hat coming off. Last time you drank a diet soda? A very long time ago, because diet soda gives me a massive headache. Was your ex born in America? Only one wasn't. Name your favorite type of music and why. Metal. I for one just like the sound, and I find it very therapeutic when I'm especially mad or sad. Even when I'm in a good mood, I just enjoy it. I also feel that a lot of metal songs tell interesting stories and/or have very poetic lyrics. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I haven't, but I've considered it. Can you breakdance? Definitely not. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? Yes. We were assigned this one war novel in middle school that was FUCKING AWFUL, like I was checked out the whole time. I don't remember its name or anything. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yes; the Warcraft movie I mentioned in a recent survey. Orcs and their fucking deep-ass voice that I couldn't understand. Do you blowdry your hair? No. Tell me about your dream last night. Omfgggggg y'all. So, there's one invert pet that I've never understood the keeping appeal of, and that's giant centipedes. Their bites are notoriously excruciating, and they are just SO goddamn fast. Well, for some godforsaken reason, I wanted one as a pet. Got one, and it immediately got loose. Guess who wanted to shit herself lmao. Centipedes are very cool, but only from a distance, ya feel? Have you ever stayed in a fancy high-class rich hotel? No. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? I don't think so. Describe the worst fight you’ve ever been in whether physical or verbal. I'm not entirely sure about my *worst*, but I know it was with Mom. We've had a few. Have you heated any food in your microwave today? Yeah, a shrimp alfredo Lean Cuisine bowl. Do you own any items of clothing with cartoon characters on them? Yes. Have you ever played Animal Crossing? No, it doesn't seem like my kinda game. Do you own anything (e.g jewelry, accessories) with your initial on it? Yes, but none of which I personally bought because I don't really like them. Do you own any cats or dogs? What are their names? I have a cat named Roman. <3 Have you added any books to your shelves lately? Which? No. Have you bought any new cosmetics or toiletries lately? Which? No. Do your pets have a specific type of food that they prefer? Roman will eat whatever cat food he's given, while Venus, like your average ball python, is a picky eater. Like when I first got her, she wouldn't eat for almost a year because I just couldn't find a method through which she'd accept food. Now she consistently takes frozen/thawed small rats that have actually sat in warm water (versus doing it by hand under running water), and she generally won't strike it unless it's offered to her by tongs, but not dangling by the tail. Picky, picky miss thang. What's your favourite variety of apple? I'm not very particular about flavor so long as the apple is crisp. I canNOT do soft apples. Which of your physical features do you receive the most compliments about? My hair.

[fairycosmos]

different anon here but I have an insta and I’m slowly accumulating more followers but I’m afraid of ever reaching 1k, I want to make my art and I’d love to make a living out of it too but I guess I didn’t think about having to bare myself so much to the public. It’s done some good though, it’s helped me be more vulnerable and to express myself truthfully, but there’s still a spot of doubt :(

hey i know what you mean and i think it's v normal!! it's an age old dilemma that every artist faces to some extent imo. at least ive heard so many ppl talk about struggling with it!! it's so hard to walk the line between creating truthful and vulnerable art, and putting your business out there for everyone to see/comment on. i feel like it takes a lot of practice and years of testing the waters to find your own personal comfort zone, but until then it's probably best to just go with what feels right in your gut in any given moment. if someday you want to draw back and start producing more general, less personal work then that is totally fine and you can still grow an audience that way. on the flip side, if you want to go full force with your emotions and let go of fear of judgment, that's cool too. but neither of those choices are obligatory, and you have all the time in the world to figure out what works for you. i also believe it's important to encourage a realistic and level headed relationship between you and the people who consume your art. obviously you can't dictate their reactions to your stuff or anything, and why would you want to. but if you consistently make it clear that you're just an artist sharing snippets of themselves (not your entire self) through social media (a very shallow and assumption based form of communication) then i feel like they'll be less likely to develop an overly intense connection with you, less likely to needlessly idolise or demonise you. if that makes sense?? but im really glad the experience has allowed you to be more open with others - art is really something huh....i wouldn't worry too much about that shadow of doubt. it just means you're trying to be as honest as possible, which can weirdly put our brains on the defensive because we feel so Seen. but just remember how much they see, how much you engage, it's always your choice - a choice you should never ever feel guilty for, whichever way you decide to go. anyway sorry this got long!! feel free to ignore my perspective if it goes against what you feel is best for you inside, i mean that. hope you're taking care and having a good day. congrats on almost hitting 1k btw that's exciting as shit !!! 💖✨

[fromthedust]

Roxane Hollosi - Vanishing Worlds  -  mixed drawing, collage and sewing on paper - 30"x 36" -  Nature is getting pushed to a breaking point. Debate on the reality of climate change, the worlds plastic plague, and mass extinction, are an overbearing concern. My work advocates for “taking a look beyond your own truth”. In this current fog of misinformation, I want to nudge others to see something; investigate something; be curious about something, in the pursuit of an informed opinion. I do this by creating layered, textural, colorful works, with rhythmic imagery that encourages a curious investigation by the audience. I transform maps, discarded plastics, and use images of the critically endangered, to give a visual voice to the climate debate.

Sarah Landrum - F'd Up Post Apocalypse Migration Pattern - gesso, beeswax, India ink, oil paint on re-purposed globe - 12" diameter, on 2½" base - Migratory birds are showing signs of changing habits and migration patterns, particularly those who make long and difficult journeys. With this globe I imagine a post human future, mapping out confused, fragmented avian paths on an almost lifeless planet. A handful of migratory species continue to attempt the journey between a few leftover artificial islands.

Margie Osheroff  - Waves of Memory - terra cotta -  This piece depicts the angst that comes to all humans as they experience the destruction of the environment. Sadness prevails as the woman remembers the beauty of nature before it fell into a toxic decline.

Anita Darden - Voice of the Planet - mixed media on canvas with acrylic paint - 11"x 14" - Like many people who have been concerned about the environment for decades, I never thought that things would degrade so fast. Or that anyone would conspire to hide the facts of the imminent threat to our civilization. I might have known that the scientific thought leaders I had been following were scientists who spoke in conservative measure. But I continue to read that even they, even the scientists, are surprised at how rapidly & robustly their dire predictions are coming true. So I find myself standing at the threshold of possible planetary extinction, the end of our beloved civilization, and I am horrified that this is the world I am leaving for my grandsons. 

Leisa Rich - The 7 Deadly Sins - silk velvet, thread, applique, recycled advertising boards, free motion machine embroidery - 24”x 90”x 1”

Kathy Meliopoulos - Nowhere to Go - ink on chamois leather and canvas - 29”x 32” - It is a gift to experience the fresh air we breathe and the water we drink, to co-exist with the flora and fauna of the earth. We have been fortunate to feast our eyes on the majesty of the natural world. All of this has been taken for granted and now we are paying the price. My hope is that we will take immediate measures to change this chaotic and frightening path through grassroots measures as well as using the power of the vote to make change. 

Brenda Rehrig - Caution - hemisphere of wax petals formed on birch panel - 24"x 24"x 12"

Sabre Esler  - The Moral Dilemma - oil on canvas - 36"x 36" -  I believe we are all connected to the earth and need to have a better relationship in caring for it. As an artist, my work explores connections. I believe connections occur on many levels at the same time, that everything is related to the energy of the universe.

Corlia K. - The Fragile Balance - oil on canvas - 36" x 24" -  To me it seems difficult to leave a green footprint. Products that have been recycled are more expensive than the counter products. To recycle in your own home you either have to pay your local garbage company more to do it or you have to drive your hand recycled garbage yourself to the nearest recycling center. Electric and Hybrid cars are still more expensive. As people it is difficult to believe that we can really destroy the earth if it is not by bombs. 

One Earth / One Chance

 for more images:

http://www.wcaga.org/page/global-warming

[devnny]

CHAPTER TWO.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

This is it fellas; the MEAT, the starting point that actually matters. It's all a damn mess hereafter. Devi, babey... forgive me, the Hell begins now! (And Johnny... please fucking behave yourself.) 

Dear Diary,

I’m back from vacation.

I have a date FUCK meeting with Devi. Yes, that Devi. Weird, no?

She grew a head-thing too, but she can control it, and she’s going to try and help me do that too… We’ll see how well that works out. She yells a lot… scary.

I haven’t totally given up on my emotional enema idea, though! Just gotta work on my temper. Why does everything have to be so aggravating?

--

3:00PM:

“I must be out of my fucking mind, Tenna.”

“I thought you just got over being out of your mind.” Tenna replied from the couch, squeaking Spooky as punctuation to her sentence.

“Don’t chastise me.” Devi moaned, loosely draped over her armchair. “Sickness has nothing on Nny.”

She dragged herself into an upright position to continue her complaints.

“AN ART LESSON FOR A MURDEROUS LUNATIC, yeah, innovative idea there, Devi!” She cried to the gods in vain. No gods could save her from the bed she’d made so neatly for herself.

“Maybe he won’t show up?” Tenna tilted her head further off of the couch in an attempt to make eye contact with her forlorn companion. Devi only melted further down her seat.

“That’s my only hope.” She sighed. “But knowing my luck, he’ll show up with a bouquet of severed hands for me. God it was so… weird talking to him again. Besides the topic being about personal insanity and death, it was sorta like old times.”

Tenna sat up to stare at her skeptically.

“Don’t tell me you missed him.”

“NO, no! Nothing as stupid as that.” Devi insisted. “Well, I mean, I did miss the Nny I thought I knew, but that’s kinda “sucks to suck”, seeing as that Nny wasn’t… really him.”

“And what if that was the real him? And you’re going to slowly scrape Mister Nice-guy out of his skull with your bare hands, like some kind of monkey artist-therapist combo?”

“I doubt that even more.”

Devi got up from her chair to scoop up the art tablet that was besmirched with Johnny’s drawing from off of the coffee table. The little stick figure he scribbled down had stayed there, mocking her, since his creator had left in the early morning hours. Johnny had only shared a couple of his “Happy Noodle Boy” comics with her long ago, likely because he was embarrassed about them. He had said he used to paint and sketch very detailed pieces, but as “something” – which she now knew was the “Doughboys” and wall-demon, and whatever else was involved with these brain parasites – overtook him, he lost all ability to create beyond these meager doodles. She couldn’t imagine a more horrid fate for a creative. For herself.

To some degree, she pitied him, but then she would remember he that tried to murder her and felt a lot less pity. Even if she understood now that he was hapless pawn, set forth to do obscene violence in the name of some otherworldly creature, all that said about him was that he was too weak-willed to stubbornly commit to his art the way she had – so could she even help someone like that?

It was irrelevant, she decided, since his new little “voice” wanted to involve her in his scheme to eat the last remaining bits of Johnny’s brain. If she didn’t try and aid him now, he would probably just manifest in a couple of months to try and either murder her or… worse.

She shook her head. Disgusting!

“I don’t have a choice with this Tenna.” Devi grumbled. “Or rather, I guess I do, and I’m choosing to deal with this now, instead of trusting Nny to have any mental wherewithal to fight this off and not turn into a puppet again.”

“That’s very brave of you, Devi. You’re an inspiration.” Tenna joked, wiping a fake tear away. Devi groaned.

“Thanks. Now get out of here, before the creature himself shows up.” She tossed the tablet back onto the table haphazardly. “I know how he acts around me, relatively anyway, but I don’t need extra company throwing him off-balance, and this ends up a double murder.”

“Okayyy, but if things get hairy, give me a code, like, three stomps on the floor, or eerie silence, or something, and I’ll call the cops!” She grinned from the doorway.

“WHAT GOOD WOULD IT DO!?” Devi steamed and slammed the door shut. She still had very bitter feelings about the city’s useless police force – demon intervention or not.

--

6:01PM:

Johnny sat with his knees up under his chin in the driver’s seat of his car. He pressed his shins against the steering wheel anxiously while he tried to think about what to do. He had gone home and bummed around – the house was still as he’d left it, only dustier, which was to be expected -- until the afternoon, after which he started panicking like the madman he was. What the hell was he supposed to do, actually show up to this thing against his wishes? An ‘art lesson’ with that intimidating woman that he didn’t particularly enjoy being around anymore, mostly because she berated him with scathing honesty now!? Ridiculous!

Yet he was here, parked behind a 24/7, less than a block from her apartments, at the time she requested he come. Curse her, and curse her rightness about all of this. He didn’t want to go.

Hesitantly he moved a hand over and grabbed a small bag of his own art supplies from home. Nothing fancy, but he preferred his own pens for inking comics, as he knew how they performed. Small increments of control was better than none, after all.

Johnny, bag clutched to his chest, exited his vehicle and kicked the door shut. As he walked from the alleyway to the sidewalk that lead to Devi’s building, he questioned all the uncertainties that he was headed directly towards.

The most basic of those worries was his timing for this meeting – arriving early was out of the question, but he had arrived almost exactly on time, which also seemed kind of pathetic. He hated getting caught up in these sort of social dilemmas – but since it involved another person, and one that he kinda-sorta respected in the highest regard, he wanted to make a good impression! What if she was irritated that he was even a minute late? Or what if that made him look totally creepy, and arriving loosely around 6:00PM was more of what she imagined? Stupid social cues!

Amongst his inner-monologuing, he failed to realize how close he was to Devi’s apartment until he was at the steps of the building. He cursed to himself, then treaded up into the lobby and checked the time on the digital wall clock that hung lopsided by the elevators. 6:14PM.

“Shit.” Johnny mumbled again. He didn’t want to hurry if this was supposed to be a casual timeframe, but he didn’t want to doddle either! He decided to take the stairs, but briskly.

--

FOUR FLOORS UP:

Devi had just started to think that the glimmer of a chance that Johnny wouldn’t show up was plausible, when the door knock came.

“Shit.” She griped from the kitchen. Her chest heaved out a sigh, and she aggressively set down her glass of water on the counter. This was going to be a long night, surely.

A few short strides to the door, and she opened it up to her expected guest. At least he didn’t have a bouquet of human limbs.

“Hi.” Johnny shot her a sideways smile. Devi did her best to hold in any unhappy noises, and tried to force what little optimism she had out from the very bottom of her soul.

“Hey, Nny.” She replied, only a little dryly. Johnny smiled wider at that.

“No bat tonight?” He pointed to her bare right hand. Devi looked down to it, then back at him.

“Don’t tempt me.” She stepped aside and let him in, hoping that the act wasn’t just as good as signing her death certificate. Johnny strolled in much too casually for her liking, but she ignored that, hoping to put off any bursts of maniacal rantings from him as long as she could.

Johnny looked around her apartment, like a normal house guest might, seeing as he was one this time. He inspected a few of her paintings with a thoughtful smile on his face and his hands crossed behind his back, still clutching his pencil bag. Devi’s eyebrow ticked in annoyance.

“I didn’t really get a good look at your apartment last night. It’s nice. Very you.” He hummed.

“Thanks.”

“These are your paintings aren’t they? I like them.”

“Thank you, Nny.” Devi rolled her eyes tiredly. “Can we focus here, a little bit?”

“I’m only trying to be polite! You were so kind to invite me back despite desperately wanting to smash my skull in yesterday.” He smiled at her again, almost arrogant, as though trapping her in small talk was a necessary evil, and if he had to suffer this social outing, so did she. Devi snorted.

“Your immense politeness is noted. Now let’s get on to what you’re here for.” She tilted her chin in his direction as she walked by, leading him further into the living room. She sat with a leg tented up on the floor, and Nny followed, sitting across from her with his feet together.

“I see you came prepared for this. That’s good.” She noted the little bag in his lap, choosing to assume it was art supplies and nothing sinister. Johnny grinned while Devi took up the same drawing pad from the night previous. He eagerly opened the pouch to spill out his pens and pencils onto the table. Devi held in any relief that she was right in her assumption.

“So. You just want me to draw?”

“Yeah.”

“And you really think that’s the key thing here?” Johnny questioned skeptically.

“Sickness always talked about how annoying my work ethic was for her. While she was trying to form, I guess, I was using too much of my brain for painting stuff, so she couldn’t grow right, or quickly, or whatever.”

“I see…” Johnny brought a knuckle up to his mouth. “So it’s not so much using your brain, but using it for creative endeavors? Writing, drawing, thinking?”

“Seems like it.” Devi leaned back on her palms. “And to a further extent, not giving in to the temptation of sitting around and doing nothing. There were times where all day I’d be thinking; “I need to work, I need to work”, but I just sat there on the couch thinking about it, never actually got up and did anything, which is what she wanted. For you, it was probably a little different, seeing as – as far as I know – the only supernatural thing that lived in the apartments besides Sickness was the psychic fat of a morbidly obese woman.”

“…What?”

“Nevermind.” Devi looked around before settling her eyes on the paper again. “Just draw, for like, an hour. I need to get some work done too, so I’ll just sketch concept crap while you do that.”

“What should I draw?” Johnny inquired while he jammed the eraser of his pencil up against his gumline.

“I can’t tell you that, that defeats the purpose.” She sighed. “Just, draw a comic, I don’t know. It doesn’t have to make any fucking sense, just something.”

“HAH!” Johnny laughed. “Well I have good news about my Happy Noodle Boy comics, then.”

He seemed a little more enthused at that and pulled the tablet in his direction, before hunching over the table and skritching away at the paper beneath him. Devi watched him curiously a moment before returning to her art room to retrieve her own sketchbook.

--

45 MINUTES IN:

Devi looked up from her perch on her armchair at her struggling ‘student’. She’d already watched him wad up and throw three separate sheets of paper around him, and he was looking more unhinged the less his drawings were coming out like he wanted. Johnny stared at his current page with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed tightly. As he lifted a hand up to the spiral of the tablet, Devi interrupted him.

“Ah.” She scolded. “Keep going.”

“But it’s STUPID. It makes no SENSE.” He argued at her from the floor.

“I told you that’s fine. Don’t get frustrated on the details, it’s fine if it looks like crap as long as you finish.”

“IT’S NOT!”

“Nny.” Devi’s eyelids lowered, indicating as ungently as possible that she wasn’t budging on the subject. Johnny responded with collapsing across the table dramatically.

“THIS IS TOO ANNOYING, I WON’T CONTINUE.” He seethed. “I’m going to the 24/7 and getting a Brain-Freezy!!”

“No, you are not. Finish your stupid comic, you only have like, ten minutes until ‘break time’ anyway.”

“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME STAY!” He screamed back, raising up to glare at her with his hands flat on the table. “I’M TIRED of being controlled, this is idiotic!!”

Devi frowned and set her sketchbook aside.

“Don’t be such a baby!” She chided him. “Think of the goal you’re working towards, you moron! Complaining about not being free when working toward freedom? HELLO?”

Johnny kicked his legs out and let himself fall backwards onto the floor, glaring at the ceiling as though it had called him a slew of cusswords. After a few moments of heaving breaths, Devi watched his chest slow to childlike huffing.

“But… I HATE it, Devi. I HATE IT!” Johnny clenched his fists tightly. “I hardly even enjoy drawing these ASININE Noodle Boys anymore!! I want to draw the way I used to, and this just reminds me that I can’t!! Sometimes it’s still fun, but mostly it SUCKS! COMPLETELY SUCKS!”

“Jeezus… don’t look at it like that, Nny.” She sighed. Tenna joked about her being a therapist monkey, but that was barely an exaggeration if this was going to be how things went every encounter. “Look at your scribbles like the first step back to your previous talent, not a continuous path of stagnant shit you have to walk. I swear, Johnny, this is going to help.”

She hoped that she was swearing to something she could actually bolster, especially after Johnny rolled his head over to give her an immensely forlorn expression. After a moment he sighed and sat back up, lamely picking up his pencil to continue drawing. Devi watched him again, a pinch uncomfortable with the sudden seriousness of the mood, and tried to think of something funny to say.

“Well,” She picked up her work again. “I guess if all else fails, you can just die again.”

Anyone else might have thought the comment cruel, but Johnny burst into a fit of muffled hysterics. Devi smiled against herself, but did her best to hide it behind her sketchbook. Johnny’s giggling tapered off as he settled his hand back onto the page he was working on.

“You know,” He began as he started scribbling. “the funniest thing about the whole dying incident… the method was so stupid.”

“I told you about the RadioShack arm and all of that, but the way I rigged it, it shouldn’t have ever worked! It was hooked up to the phone, and would activate when I got a phone call, but wouldn’t actually go off until I picked up the receiver and said “hello” into it. As Psycho-Doughboy so kindly said, it was a load of shit! I never get calls, not even wrong numbers, and especially not at 2 o’clock in the fuck-all morning!”

Devi’s hand stopped moving mid-stroke, her eyes wide. Johnny didn’t notice, and continued speaking while he drew.

“But, out of all the shit luck I’ve had, the phone rings, right then, right when I was screaming with the Doughboys, saying I was calling the whole thing off! Now that I think about it… I don’t know why I didn’t just… not pick it up – BUT, thank fuck I did, right?”

Devi remained silent, her throat suddenly, and increasingly, dry. It couldn’t be, it just could not be. Her mind raced; maybe it was wrong, she was mistaken – but there was no way, it fit too well. All she heard was that fucking “hello”, then a bang – a gunshot. A thud. A scream. If Johnny was still talking now, she couldn’t hear him.

“It was me.” She said suddenly, bringing Johnny out of his thought.

“Huh?”

“…It… was me. It was me, I was the one that called you that night.” Devi’s widened eyes lifted to stare at him as she spoke. “Tenna said… I was just… checking if you still lived there.”

Her mumblings died off as her eyes wandered away from Johnny’s face to bore into the drywall across the room. Johnny blinked, barely processing what she was saying.

“What? You called me that night, Devi?” He wondered only briefly how she could know it was that exact night, but quickly rationalized that he hadn’t received any other phone calls besides that one, before or since. It was Devi. His eyes grew impossibly larger as the reality of it dawned on him.

He stood up, unable to keep still with the sudden surge of energy pulsing throughout his body.

“You, you – YOU called me Devi!” He paced as he handled the information. “You did – oh my God, I can’t believe I never thought of this before!”

Devi’s attention made it’s way back to her now manic guest, and she watched him uncomfortably from her seat. Johnny smiled uneasily, holding his head while he walked.

“The entire reaction, I gave the reaction the credit for removing those shitty horrors from me, but I never thought of the action! The call itself! It wasn’t just the GUNSHOT, it wasn’t just DYING, it was that phone call! MORE IMPORTANTLY, it was the one that placed that phone call!! My God, all this time I’ve been ambling around, a slave free from his shackles, thrust into a world unknown, when the KNOWING was right there!! It was so obvious!”

He stopped his frantic pacing to kneel into a lunge at the foot of Devi’s armchair, startling her further into the fabric of it’s back. Johnny grabbed the corners of her sketchbook, which she was using as a pathetic shield between her frazzled self and the man before her, and he smiled wide with excitement.

“Oh, Devi! Devi it was always YOU – who else would it be!? Who else COULD it be!” Johnny breathed through a laugh. “Devi, you KILLED ME.”

She could only stare at him in silent horror. It wasn’t like she meant to kill him! She did say that she wished he would die for making her like him so much and then letting her down so horrendously but – Christ, it wasn’t meant to be so literal! She didn’t want to be the cause of it! If he wanted to just go vaporize and leave her alone, that’s what she would have preferred back then. Johnny didn’t seem to realize her discomfort on the gruesome truth to his ‘demise’.

“You stripped me of those wretched little monsters – even the WALL-THING!” His smile didn’t waver. “I should have known; there was a reason you escaped! No, a reason I MET you!”

Devi wanted to interrupt before he convinced himself of some soulmates bullshit, but her throat felt clogged, and nothing would come out.

“And here you are, helping me again… Fuck’s sake, I’ve been so foolish! So BLIND!” Johnny’s fingers gripped onto her sketchbook harder, pulling it down so the top was under his chin as he leaned in further. “All this time, it was always you; you made me happy, you escaped, you released me of that Hell!! If fate’s a real thing, THIS is it! How else would I get aligned with the one person, after all of that previous shit, that has the mental fortitude to withstand an attack from those disgusting vermin!?”

“J… Johnny.” Devi managed finally, through her barely functioning jaw. The sound of her voice seemed to reel him in a ways, and he slid back to sit on his heel expectantly, but with a much less wild look in his eyes.

“Oh, I beg you, please don’t be nervous Devi! I don’t hold any resentment for your hand in my death, not at all!” He chuffed. “And I’m so sorry for… for yelling, and being an overall pain in your ass since visiting you. I swear, after this, that’s it! Whatever you say, goes.”

Devi blinked in surprise at that. Was he honestly pledging his loyalty out of sheer gratitude that she inadvertently kind-of murdered him? She could only stare at his eager eyes, unsure of whether to be horribly afraid of this new measure of weirdness in their relationship, or to feel safer in that she was his so-proclaimed Angel of Death.

“Um… uh…” She tried to think of something to say, but was still panicking internally. “Um, y-y’know what, Nny?”

She hated how his head perked up, like he was waiting on her word.

“A uh… a Brain-Freezy sounds good, actually. You wanna go grab us a couple while I… think about what kind of existential bullshit I’m experiencing right now?”

“YUM. Yes, okay! I will!” His smile pulled up on one side, letting his gums peak out, before he ran to the door. He halted abruptly and turned to her again. “Is Cherry Doom okay? That’s the flavor I get.”

“Yeah.” Devi didn’t even think about her answer, and watched him leave with an uncertain, disturbed look in her eyes. She melted unceremoniously against the chair, arms and legs splayed out, and continued to stare at nothing in particular. She didn’t want Johnny to like her so immensely -- she didn’t even want for him to like her much at all! The way this was going, she might be stuck with him as long as his gratitude lasts. How long could the frenzied gratefulness of a homicidal maniac last, exactly?

--

NEXT.

[mwolf0epsilon]

i just fond your blog and saw you like DBH and G/T and ive been dying for a cute g/t fic! Could you please do one with Markus if thats ok???

I’m really sorry this took so long Anon! Here’s some giant Markus goodness for the G/T side of the fandom! Had to get a bit creative but hey, that’s why we have Mad Scientist Vibes Mcgree (Young Kamski)!

Enjoy!

—

    When Carl had gotten into his accident, a lot of things in his life had forcibly changed.

He couldn’t walk anymore (which was the major factor for these changes), he needed to take medicine to stop the pain that the doctors said would never go away (but might lessen with time and physiotherapy), had to quit some of his favorite hobbies (He couldn’t go skiing, swimming or sky-diving anymore) and, on top of the physical limitations that he had to get used to, Carl had lost all motivation to do anything.

He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed most mornings, much less pick up a brush to take to a canvas.

His own home became a prison, the long curving stairwell a deathtrap for a handicapped man in a wheelchair. The members of the artistic community that he’d considered his peers had practically abandoned him and gone on to lick the boots of the next greatest deal, his relationships had shriveled away due to his terrible moods, and he’d lost himself to booze and cheap drug highs more times than he’d eaten in those first weeks of recovery and adjustment to his plight…

Carl was a mess, a depressed, bitter and angry unadjusted mess, and he practically exiled himself in his own home, resigned to wasting away alone and wallowing in his own misery.

It had felt like everything that made him who he was, had died with his ability to walk…

But of course, while the world was ready to give up on an a bitter old cripple, Elijah Kamski had believed Carl could get himself back together.

And, in believing so, he’d gone and done something truly insane to help push him towards the road of recovery.

    Carl thought of Elijah as a very clever and ambitious young man. A crafty boy that was as cunning as they came, with a reputation for the dramatics that added a bit of flair to his eccentric personality.

Where others saw an excellent inventor with a few bizarre behaviours, Carl saw a well-meaning boy who went all out in his many personal plans and schemes. Someone who gave you half the puzzle so you could figure it out yourself, but who’d jump at the opportunity to give an answer to a friend if he trusted them enough. He was odd, a bit pretentious at times, but not as impossible to figure out as many people thought.

He’d left his own company around the same time of Carl’s accident, for various other reasons he assured, albeit also intending to take the time off to think on the incident itself and in what way he could help a dear friend in need.

The overall plan, however, was to isolate himself and think over a few things that had concerned him quite a bit over work ethic and corporational corruption.

Carl knew from a previous conversation that Elijah had taken with him the fruits of an ongoing and still fairly green project, intending to finish it himself rather than let the board of directors play around with such a delicate schematic.

He’d never asked Elijah what he’d do with it if he ever did finish it, but then again he should have expected the boy to reworked it into his grand scheme of “fixing his father-figure”.

Elijah was nowhere close to performing miracles yet, but Carl was sure he’d been trying fairly hard with something of the sort before settling in his final idea. Chloe had already come close enough to the boy playing god, and Carl was sure that, while the field of medicine could benefit from his younger friend’s work and ingenuity, he himself didn’t like the idea of having his legs chopped off and replaced with mechanical parts.

Prosthetics wouldn’t fix his ruined spine, wouldn’t make the pain and trauma go away, and he’d rather die than be a guinea pig to some scalpel-happy medical students.

Elijah knew this, so he did something else. Something bolder and very much batshit insane.

He was clever about it as well. He’d hid his real intentions behind simple visits, where he measured Carl’s chair multiple times, fixed issues he had with some of its mobility, installed railings and an assortment of contraptions to aid him around the house, and then finally brought him a robotic arm to serve as a moving platform to help with his larger paintings. All presents that Carl had frowned at and ignored besides the damn elevator and the wheelchair upgrade, since he needed those to get around the house.

And then, after several of these visits where he just observed and offered idle conversation, one day Elijah showed up with Chloe and his real present.

That was a day Carl would never forget…

Hard to, when a close friend of yours brought over a 50 foot tall android to serve as a household assistant.

-

    It hadn’t been a particularly good day to begin with. His doctors had tried to send him another nurse who’d just gotten in the way.

She’d woken him up abruptly, insisted for him to eat despite him feeling nauseous from spending the night in a drunken stupor, hadn’t let him even watch the news in peace without blabbering on about how he’d organized his home or about his medication schedules.

And then of course, when she pointed out the taxidermied giraffe and commented on how “middle-ages” it was to have a dead animal decorating one’s house, he’d snapped.

The night before he’d had an argument over the phone with Adelaide, Leo’s mother.

They’d argued over him shutting them out after the accident, when he’d finally taken the steps to get to know his son.

Carl wasn’t proud of what he’d said, but he recalled laughing bitterly and saying an invalid man who can’t walk anymore, can’t really take any steps by himself.

She’d been furious at his self-deprecation. And then she’d exploded when he’d implied the situation was their fault to begin with.

Because, “had he not gone on the trip to begin with, he wouldn’t have ever gotten into the damn accident”.

Carl had been too drunk to think straight, spoke some things he really shouldn’t have, and in the end Adelaide had gotten fed up with him and hung up. He had a feeling she’d resent him for this major fuck up on his part.

The argument had left him in a sour mood, and the nurse criticizing his home and the things he’d been gifted with by friends?

It had struck a nerve and he’d become standoffish and defensive.

She’d stormed out after he’d told her off with some choice words, and then told her to tell his doctors to shove their stethoscopes so far up their own asses that they might actually hear their own stupidity.

It would have been funny really, if he hadn’t wanted a cup of tea afterwards to calm his fraying nerves.

That’s when Elijah decided to show up, in the middle of Carl cursing his stove for being too tall for him to properly use now that he couldn’t stand.

    As upset as he was with his own handicap, Carl wasn’t one to give in very easily when he actually wanted something as mundane as a cup of hot tea. Earl grey, with a few almond cookies on the side to please his sweet tooth.

At the time, had he wanted to draw or paint or even play the piano as much as he’d wanted a hot beverage, he would have likely gotten it done much earlier without ever needing any help to begin with.

Considering the spell he’d put himself in however, how fervently he believed he was useless, Carl had made himself into exactly what he thought he was when it came to procuring inspiration, thus indulging in his interests was out of the picture for some time.

But that had all been forgotten while he tried to find a way around the stove’s height.

Kettle in one hand, his chin on the other, the artist considered his options.

And then the ground began to shake.

He didn’t notice at first, too engrossed with his dilemma, until the water in the kettle began to shift and slosh out onto the floor with a resounding splatter, and the wheels of his chair began to shudder against the breaks.

The shakes were rhythmic in nature, followed by thuds that were becoming as loud as thunder just as the intensity of the quaking began to make things rattle off the shelves.

Carl had gripped the chair’s armrests tightly as he looked around the kitchen, wincing as fine china slipped out of place and shattered on the floor. As the windows rattled violently against their frames, he wondered how any of this was possible, as never once had he suffered through an earthquake in this area of Michigan.

And then of course, the intense quakes came to a halt just as a deafening screech of metal met his ears.

The artist yelled in alarm as he peered out the window and saw something absolutely gargantuan crush the tall metal fencing in his yard. Had he just witnessed a goddamn meteor crash?!

-

    Of course,being the overly-curious man that he was, Carl’s immediate reaction was not to call the authorities, but to leave the kitchen to investigate.

The old artist made his way outside by wheeling himself through the larger sliding-glass door, making use of the ramp that Elijah had helped set up in one of his many visits. He then carefully and clumsily maneuvered himself around the side of his home, trying to pick up speed while also trying not to knock himself out of balance in the process (he was still not very good at using it after all), and was quickly met by a dark shadow that was definitely not supposed to be there at noon. Whatever was currently in his property, was positively and tremendously big, enough so that it cast such an impressive shadow over the mansion.

What he wasn’t counting on seeing was that, what appeared to have obliterated his fence and part of his garden, was a pair of gigantic shoes…

Inside them, Carl assumed, were an equally gigantic pair of feet, connected to gigantic legs, that were connected to a gigantic torso, which itself had a pair of gigantic arms connected to them, as well as a gigantic head.

Did he mention how gigantic all of it was? Or how his body was instinctively trembling and screaming at him to seek shelter, as two large green eyes peered down at his own two widened blue eyes. He couldn’t quite discern any other facial features, as the rest were obscured by shade, but he could see a blazing yellow circle where he assumed the giant’s right temple might be.

There was a colossal android in his backyard. Carl was pretty sure this was a sign that he was probably going to die, until he heard two familiar voices up in the distance.

 “Elijah…It appears the RK200 has effectively destroyed Mr. Manfred’s security system…” the soothing tone of the RT600, Elijah’s darling Chloe, stated calmly as she peered down from the shoulders of the giant she’d apparently hitched a ride on.

 “I’m well aware Chloe.” Elijah Kamski, who stood on the other shoulder of the massive android, poked his head over to look down at the mess. “This wasn’t how I wanted to surprise Carl… My fault really, for letting our baby boy take his first steps out in the wild…”

 “A flair for the dramatics may be your own undoing one day…” Chloe tutted disapprovingly before reaching up to the the giant, patting it under the chin. “Poor thing, this has been a positively mortifying experience for him…”

Carl stared up and up at the trio of “guests”, completely at a loss for words purely due to disbelief because, again, there was a GIANT android in his yard.

His fence had been obliterated, trampled by said android, and Elijah Kamski was behind it.

There was only one thing to do in such a situation.

 “ELIJAH KAMSKI, YOU COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THERE IS A BUILDING SIZED ANDROID RUINING MY BEGONIAS!”

 “Busted…Fuck me, this has not gone according to plan” The inventor fumbled with his glasses and tried to hide under the collar of the colossus’s shirt to no avail. His fate as target for one of Carl’s lectures was set.

 “I warned you he might have appreciated his gift coming in a box.” Chloe grinned at him, before waving in greeting at Carl. She didn’t seem too bothered with this outcome.

 “You’re not helping Chloe…” the man sighed miserably as he stared down at the angry artist.

-

    It ended with the colossal artificial being kneeling on the dirt (an action which made the ground shakes violently because of how huge it was) and then Chloe preparing tea for Carl and Elijah, which the two drank while conversing quietly. They occasionally peered upwards at Elijah’s newest creation.

With its face no longer obscured by the shadow it cast, Carl could finally see it’s features more clearly.

The android, despite it’s terrifying size, was not at all very imposing in appearance. If anything,it looked almost soft and approachable. Friendly even, if not for the limited amount of expressions on its face.

Tanned freckled skin, soft green eyes, hair shaved short, and a sort of inquisitive look to it’s posture which was apparently it’s most basic model of being. Curious about everything and their conversation.

The uniform was pristinely clean, although he noted the shoes had already acquired a layer of dirt and grime from it’s failed “field testing”.

It was sitting there (which of course destroyed another portion of Carl’s fence and garden considering how massive it’s proportions were, and how much it weighed), but otherwise did nothing else but look at them with those soft green eyes. Waiting for it’s orders. It was…Kind of endearing, if not for the fact it destroyed part of his property.

 “Explain to me, why you felt the necessity to bring with you and Chloe such a…” he paused to stare at the android. It cocked it’s head to the side as it listened, blinking its two massive eyes as it focused on him. Each eyelash was probably the same length as Carl’s arms. “…Unique model, while visiting my decidedly not so Kaiju-friendly house…”

 “The term you’re looking for is fun sized, and the RK200 is hardly a Kaiju. Jaeger would be a much more fitting term considering his nature and overall shape.” Elijah smiled as he took a sip of his tea. “And I thought it appropriate to let him test his legs before reaching his destined household. I didn’t account for how clumsy his baby steps would be, however…I should have expected he’d need time to calibrate his movements.”

 “It’s a domestic android?” Carl raised an eyebrow and snorted at the thought “Boy, in what world does something that big fit inside someone’s house?”

 “You’ll find I made the necessary changes to your house for him to fit nice and snug like a bug in a mug, as long as he sits still, which he’s a master at when he’s not bored.”

 “You did what now…?”

 “Of course a 50 foot android will get bored easily. The RK200 is very sophisticated and inquisitive.” The inventor carried on “He adapts as he learns, and as such I’d advise constant interaction with him to ensure the best results…”

 “Elijah what did you do to my house?”

 “That’s not to say he’s clueless of course! You’ll find the RK200 can maintain a perfectly good conversation although, due to his size, verbal communication is not advised, as previous testing noted that his vocal range has a proficiency for shattering glass and porcelain. You’ll have to learn ASL.”

 “Elijah!”

 “Carl it’s all fine. Here, see?” He turned to the gargantuan prototype overseeing them “RK200, initiate Home Program.”

The green eyed android blinked twice, LED momentarily shifting from blue to yellow as it processed the command, and then the side wall behind Carl opened up like a garage door. On closer inspection, it seemed the two floors shifted upwards as well, to accommodate for the android’s tremendous size.

Carl’s jaw dropped as he watched this happen, before he turned to look back at his friend in absolute disbelief.

 “When did you get this done? Any of this?!”

 “I could tell you, but it would warrant a restraining order.”

 “Elijah I swear to God…”

 “Carl please? He will take care of you, and god only knows you could use the company.” Elijah gave the empty tea cup to Chloe, who opted to silently watch the argument unfold while she idly stood besides the prototype “You’ve been living the hermit-chique life without the chique part. You look a mess 24/7, hardly talk to me unless I physically stand besides you, and your habits are not in the slightest healthy.”

 “Since when have you become my mother? I’m an old man Elijah, not a child! I won’t live off someone else’s pity!” Carl snapped.

 “If you’re not a child, stop acting like one!” Kamski yelled loudly, his patience running thin. “I’m worried! You’re my friend and you’ve gone through a traumatizing event! Not only that but you just became single again after seven years in a relationship and need stability and support! The RK200 will give you all of that, no questions asked!”

 “How will it do anything at that size?!” Carl pointed at the android that towered over them eerily silent. It just watched, just as Chloe did, but it’s inquisitive expression had changed to a small frown, as if it were trying to understand a complicated problem.

 “You think I wouldn’t find ways around the size of my creations? Carl, you know better than that.” The brunet shook his head, arms crossed and glasses perched on his nose.

 “Yes, because “obviously” I can imagine those hands, which are as large as a fully grown man, grasping the fragile china that is currently shattered on the kitchen floor, without completely pulverizing it into fine dust…” Carl grimaced, glaring daggers at his friend before looking at the RK200. It was still frowning, but had directed it’s attention to its creator.

 “I have everything sorted out Carl. What do you take me for?” Kamski looked up at the android and smiled “RK200, show Carl your household features.”

The Android in question gave a polite nod before looking at Carl and raising both hands so that they were held up with the palms facing the artist. Carl wondered what it would do, before his eyes widened as large as saucers as the skin of the arms deactivated, revealing intricate paneling and seams. These panels opened up, splitting the arms and hands into various parts, before several cables spilled out from within. The great majority of said cables was tipped with what appeared to be regular sized hands, while others were tipped by lenses.

There were hands and “eyes” inside its actual hands.

 “….Elijah that is the freakiest most scariest thing I have ever seen in my entire life…”

 “There’s more.”

 “Oh god…”

The RK200 quietly closed up its arms after retracting the hidden limbs back inside of their proper compartments, and then pulled it’s uniform shirt up. The skin of the stomach area deactivated and then a massive storage unit popped open. From inside it, popped out two drones and a regular sized android of identical appearance to the RK200.

 “The drones are for delivery and retrieval, the extra android is a remote controlled escort for you whenever you need fresh air. The three are completely linked to the RK200s mind, effectively they are him.” Elijah explained as one of the drones flew around the artist and inventor, while the remote controlled android bowed calmly. “He can actually speak through this body, so while I encourage you brush up on ASL, you can always keep a nice conversation with him out on a public stroll.”

 “Elijah…Just how many concepts were you toying with before you decided to give me this…Mishmash of purposes?” Carl felt like he was in the twilight zone at this point. This was the most sci-fi-ish android he’d ever seen, and Cyberlife had chugged out a LOT of strange models.

 “A few. The most impressive is his programming actually…The code is adaptive and changes depending on stimuli.” Elijah smiled as he watched the RK200 collect it’s extensions. “He’s a little like Chloe, but…But more. And I’ll admit, picking you is selfish, but you’re the one person I’d trust to teach our boy to be something more than just a collection of ideas.”

 “You want a depressed man who hasn’t been out in weeks, to teach a giant android to be a good person?”

 “Pretty much.”

 “This could end badly, you know…” Carl looked once more to the Android, startling when he noticed it had laid down on its stomach and was now mere inches away from him, face practically right on top of Carl’s sitting body. It had an odd expression on its face, but it didn’t look inherently malicious so Carl quickly forced his pulse to calm.

 “It won’t. You’re not gone Carl, as much as you’d like to be considering your state…You’re a clever man, with a lot to teach someone.” Elijah insisted. “You’ll make a fine young man out of our dear baby RK200.”

 “I agree sir.” Chloe smiled as she approached, making sure to pat the colossus on the face in passing. “You’ve been nothing but kind to Elijah and myself. Your wisdom and kindness will be invaluable for RK200’s development. He will also benefit you, in being quite the delightful companion.”

 “…Well…I guess I better look up ASL…”

 “Is that a yes?” Elijah grinned triumphantly.

 “I’m afraid so.”

 “Excellent! I’ll give you the basic rundown here…Starting with supplies, no need to worry he doesn’t run entirely on thirium, that’d be incredibly difficult to sustain. Although I will send you shipments monthly since he does need it to self-heal. Which brings us to the next topic! Self-healing! If he gets badly roughed up somehow, just give him thirium and scrap metal! Biocomponents will do if you have them on hand. His body does the rest!” Elijah chittered excitedly while Carl went back to observing the android he’d been saddled with. It was still watching him, and only him, intently.

Most of Elijah’s technobabble went unheard as Carl watched the giant extend a finger in his direction, before carefully reaching out.

Said finger opened up, a few retractable limbs and cameras (again, creepy as fuck!) coming out and inspecting the wheelchair, before one hand tentatively offered for a handshake.

Carl took it and was surprised at how real the synthetic skin felt.

 “Hello there…” Carl found himself smiling as the android shyly looked away for the briefest of seconds, like a young child meeting a family friend for the first time, before looking back at him and quirking the corners of its mouth upwards. It lifted it’s other hand up and greeted slowly with it’s fingers.

The gentleness of this gigantic being was sticking.

Carl decided in the end that this might not be too bad after all.

-

    A few years later, in 2038, Carl found himself smiling as two familiar drones flew into his room and nestled themselves against his sides all the while purring that strange mechanical purr of theirs (which he’d long since associated with Markus’s good moods), while he watched a revolution unfold on the news.

His boy had come a long way since the first time he’d stepped foot in his property.

Despite his tremendous size and incomparable strength, Markus had not once taken a violent approach at any given chance.

His kind was met with anger and fear, yet the 50 foot android had done everything in his powers to be a benevolent and fair leader to both saptient species.

The remote body appeared for every public event, giving him no advantage over the situations, while his true body remained hidden away up until now…

He revealed himself out of necessity, the remote body destroyed during the attack on the barricade, with that horrid Perkins demanding his presence as soon as he realized Markus wasn’t dead.

And he’d complied to the wishes of a man who thought he’d been the cat that caught the canary. That grin fell off his face as soon as the 50 foot leader of the Android Revolution had squeezed through buildings, careful not to step on anything, avoiding the routes which had civilians and military alike to avoid casualties.

The world watched as a literal giant showed mercy and compassion, where humanity showed senseless cruelty, and Carl couldn’t be prouder.

He’d raised the boy well.

Elijah and Chloe had made the right choice in leaving him with Carl.

And the artist had to admit…For a 50 foot colossus, Markus was nothing if not a gentle caring young man, and he’d been entirely lucky to have him.

Bless Elijah Kamski’s eccentric ideas…But damn if the man still didn’t owe him a garden full of begonias.

[justwestofwillow]

west ham 2019 field trip permission slip

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: willow philippa morris MEANING: (willow) like the tree; (philippa) friend of horses REASONING: she was born into a hippie commune. everyone had a name like that. NICKNAME(S): will, willa PREFERRED NAME(S): will BIRTH DATE: july 14th, 2002 AGE: 17 ZODIAC: cancer GENDER: female PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: she’s never thought about it, plus... SEXUAL ORIENTATION: she hates labels. NATIONALITY: american ETHNICITY: she has no idea.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: suns compound in may, az HOMETOWN: suns commune SOCIAL CLASS: upper-class FATHER: thomas “pine” morris MOTHER: amy “bluebell” espinoza SIBLING(S): older brother, three younger sisters BIRTH ORDER: brother, willow, three sisters PET(S): none. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: her father’s parents, nancy & thomas, who she never met but gave their fortune to their son, taking will away from suns. PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: none. ARRESTS?: none. PRISON TIME?: none.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

SOURCE OF INCOME: none. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yeah, she’s never really thought about getting a job. PAST JOB(S): none. SPENDING HABITS: she doesn’t really spend? she prefers activities where money isn’t involved. she’s very diy. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: all the fancy electronics her father bought her to get her “acclimated” to life in west ham.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

TALENTS: farming, problem-solving, meditation/psychotherapy exercises SHORTCOMINGS: seeing realistically, sometimes social interaction, using technology LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: spanish, english DRIVE?: no JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: no RIDE A BICYCLE?: barely SWIM?: yes PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: guitar PLAY CHESS?: no BRAID HAIR?: yes TIE A TIE?: no PICK A LOCK?: no

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: stefanie scott EYE COLOR: brown HAIR COLOR: light brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: fairly straight & soft GLASSES/CONTACTS?: she needs them, but never got them DOMINANT HAND: right HEIGHT: 5′4″ WEIGHT: 125 lbs BUILD: slim, almost waify EXERCISE HABITS: she loves walking. she walks literally everywhere, all the time. SKIN TONE: pale but slightly tan, warm undertones TATTOOS: none PEIRCINGS: none MARKS/SCARS: tiny red birthmark in her hairline on her forehead; small texas-shaped birthmark on the inside of her left knee NOTABLE FEATURES: big round rosy cheeks, heart-shaped chin, bright eyes USUAL EXPRESSION: a happy, wide-eyed, “take-it-all-in” look CLOTHING STYLE: loose & comfortable & practical. she doesn’t much care what she looks ilke, as long as she’s comfortable. JEWELRY: none. ALLERGIES: shellfish, which she found out the hard way at a restaurant in west ham. BODY TEMPERATURE: 98.3° DIET: vegetarian (no fish, no eggs) PHYSICAL AILMENTS: asthma

PSYCHOLOGY

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful good TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic ELEMENT: water MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: none. SOCIABILITY: so high. off the charts. she just wants to be everyone’s friend. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: normally pretty level, but the second she has a secret or dilemma, it weighs on her heavily. like a seesaw! PHOBIA(S): heights ADDICTION(S): coffee. once she got to west ham & had her first starbucks, she couldn’t stop drinking it. DRUG USE: none. not even weed. barely even advil. ALCOHOL USE: none. literally zero. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: hell no.

MANNERISMS

QUIRKS: she doesn’t have any, she’s perfect. jk. but none. HOBBIES: drawing/sketching, gardening, long walks HABITS: waking with the sun, making all her own meals from scratch, reading ingredients/lists/etc. NERVOUS TICKS: touching her hair/face, especially covering her mouth with her hand in some way DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: her mom. tess. monty. spreading happiness to the world. FEARS: never seeing her mom again. not being able to forgive her dad. lying/keeping secrets. POSITIVE TRAITS: idealistic, flexible, nurturing, empathetic NEGATIVE TRAITS: sensitive, distant, easily distracted, too idealistic SENSE OF HUMOR: will just likes to be entertained. she’s not usually one to make herself laugh, but she surrounds herself with funny people. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: never. CATCHPHRASE(S): “oh, gosh.”

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: long walks ANIMAL: rabbits BEVERAGE: coffee of all kinds BOOK: hatchet by gary paulsen CELEBRITY: “i don’t... really know any?” COLOR: “green. no, purple. no, actually, yellow. don’t look at me like that, i like all of them!” DESIGNER: “designer of what?” FOOD: kiwi FLOWER: purple rockcress GEM: ruby HOLIDAY: birthdays MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: her feet! MOVIE: harry potter & the sorcerer's stone MUSICAL ARTIST: hozier QUOTE/SAYING: “be kind.” SCENERY: the desert at sunset SCENT: earth & dirt & soil SPORT: “i don’t think i have a favorite. they’re all exciting to watch!” SPORTS TEAM: none. TELEVISION SHOW: she only watches tv for background noise while she does other things. WEATHER: hot & dry. VACATION DESTINATION: home. ( suns. )

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: a long, happy life with her family back together. GREATEST FEAR: not being able to communicate. MOST AT EASE WHEN: in nature. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: using technology, especially in front of other people. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: making her garden grow well in a new environment she wasn’t used to. BIGGEST REGRET: not forgiving her father yet. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: just after she first told people she moved to west ham from a commune, the looks on their faces that she hadn’t anticipated was so embarrassing & scary. BIGGEST SECRET: sneaking around with monty behind tess’s back. this girl hates keeping secrets. TOP PRIORITIES: tess. monty. seeing her parents again.

[crystallized-shadow]

The Killer Meme

Tagged by @a-kid-named-hiro

[Me, Myself, I]

What is your philosophy/motto in life? Always try your best; you can’t always be the best but you can do your best.

How did you choose your User Name, and what does it reveal of your character? It’s my username from a different site and I really like it. I guess it could mean I’m the shiny thing in the dark?

What did you want to be “when you grew up” when you were younger? If your current job/plans are different, why did you change? I wanted to be Veterinarian when I was a kid but an allergy to dogs put a kibosh on that pretty quick.

What was the worst nightmare you have ever had? I usually don’t remember my dreams, but I can remember one where someone me shot in the back.

Tell the story behind one or more of your scars (physical, not emotional). I have several but the story is the same: I’m a fucking klutz.

What one thing would you like your great-great-grandchildren to know about you? What one thing would you NOT want them to know? I don’t intend to reproduce.

How do you learn (things-for-exams)? Re-reading notes and frantically cramming right before the exam (I do NOT recommend this method)

What was the cause of the worst physical pain you have ever been in? I slipped on the ice; over-extended two tendons, concussed a nerve, bruised my tailbone, and hurt my knee (I had to sit through 4 hours of classes before I could do anything about it, not fun)

Where do you live (a country is fine, just name a place)? USA

What is your biggest fear? Not living up to my own expectations

[Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be]

What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever done? (Not the best, or the most accomplished, or the most life-altering, just the coolest). Gone tubing down the river

If you could change one event from your own personal history, what would it be and how would you change it? I let something very dear to me go, if I could change anything, I would never have made that decision

Describe the one thing you have learned in the course of your education, either inside school or outside of it, which you consider the most valuable. Actions speak louder than words, especially among people who are supposed to be your friends.

What memory would call up your personal Patronus spell? (in other words, what memory is your happiest or sweetest?) Any memory featuring my precious people happy

Describe the three best pairs of shoes that you’ve ever owned - favorites because of comfort, the way they look, the brand, any reason at all. Any shoes that I don’t have to tie are fucking amazing

[If I Ruled the World]

If you could have been born and grown up somewhere else, where would that have been? I liked where I grew up, so I wouldn’t change it

What would you demand in exchange for giving up your personal freedoms and civil liberties? Would never give them up

If there were no laws, which (former) crime would be the first you’d commit? I’d make all student loans disappear forever!

If you could do one thing or grant one wish for someone else, what would it be? I’d wish that those near and dear to my heart be happy for the rest of their lives

If you could know anything about your future, what would it be? If I’m happy with my life

Owing to a peculiar concatenation of events, you are the wealthiest person in the world, and the latter will end in 24 hours. Money being no object, and saving the world being impossible, what would you do during that last day? I’d make it the best day ever for everyone I care about. If we’re all going to die we might as well go out with a bang!

If you could hunt down one childhood tormentor (whether it be bully, tattletale, mean teacher, or friend’s mother who hated you for no good reason) and exact revenge upon them in some spectacular, prankish fashion without worry of consequences, who would you choose, and what would you do to him/her? That’s hard to say since karma has taken care of a few of these people. There is one person I’d love to slap in the back of the head for being incompetent when I got hurt, so I guess I’d do that.

If I offered you a chance to have anything you wanted, the cost being someone you didn’t know dies, would you accept? If I could stipulate the that person has to be a piece of shit that no one will miss, then hell yeah! Otherwise I’d have to give it some thought.

If you could have any one superpower, what would it be? Time travel

If you could punch any one person from any point in history, who would you pick? I have a list of people that deserve a good punch in the face

If you were given the opportunity to live another life, what kind of life would you like to have? I’d want a life where I could be happy and not have to worry about anyone hurting me or those close to me

If you could alter history in one specific place, where would it be, and why? Stopping someone close to me from ever dating the fucking whore who did nothing but fuck them over

Assuming you (or a group of friends) conquer Earth, which section(s) of the planet would you personally desire, and why? Somewhere quiet with good wi-fi so we could have a place to relax

If you could, with no repercussions, subject anyone you wanted to one day of utter and complete torture, who would you choose, why would you choose them, and what would you do to them? Conversely, if you could give anyone you wanted (other than yourself) one day of perfect happiness, who/why/what would you choose? The fucking whore I mentioned earlier, I would subject her to a day of torture, without hesitation.

It might be cliche, but my mom deserves the best fucking day ever so I would pick her.

[Media and Culture]

Hollywood called: they’re filming your life story. Who do you cast as yourself? I would just laugh and hang up the phone

They want to make your life into a Cartoon. Which graphic artist do you want to draw it? Not sure why anyone would want to do that, but I would pick @sinyaru or @artbythedarkside because I fucking love their art!

Your favourite Blackadder episode and why? ???

Movie adaptations of books - heinous, evil and always disappointing or perfectly acceptable? It really depends on the book and the actors they pick

What one song brings up the strongest emotion (negative or positive) for you? Hold Me Tight or Don’t by Fall Out Boy Killing Kind by Mariana’s Trench

If you had the choice to live in any fictional world, as in transposed into a book, which one would it be? Please explain why. Naruto, preferably during the Fonder’s Era because I want to me Madara and Tobirama! Also ninjas.

What is your favorite artwork (painting, sculpture, etching, whatever) and why? I can’t say I have a favorite piece, but personally I enjoy painting.

Name twelve songs for the soundtrack of your life. (In no particular order)

1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Green Day) 2. Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea (Fall Out Boy) 3. THNKS FR TH MMRS (Fall Out Boy) 4. It’s My Life (Bon Jovi) 5. High Hopes (Panic! At the Disco) 6. Natural (Imagine Dragons) 7. Teenagers (My Chemical Romance) 8. Head Above Water (Avril Lavigne) 9. I Don’t Care (Fall Out Boy) 10. Numb (Linkin Park) 11. Victorious (Panic! At the Disco) 12. Get Out Alive (Three Days Grace)

If you could have only five cds, which would they be? No burned cds count - only ones you physically purchase in a store/online. (In no particular order)

1. Mania (Fall Out Boy) 2. Phantoms (Mariana’s Trench) 3. Save Rock and Roll (Fall Out Boy) 4. Them vs. You vs. Me (Finger 11) 5. Pray For The Wicked (Panic! At the Disco)

Batman or Superman? Loki

What fictional character do you most identify with and why? If I had to pick I would say maybe Tobirama Senju. I can come across as cold, will do odd things to satisfy curiosity, and my intentions can be misinterpreted by those that don’t know me.

[The Completely Hatstand Section]

True or false: pineapple on pizza is wrong. False.

If you were a color, what would you be and why? Black or red, they are my favorites.

If you could be an inanimate object, what would you be and why? A dictionary so no one would use me

Assuming reincarnation exists, who do you think you may have been in a past life? How would you like to come back in the next? The running joke in my family is I was a pirate in my past life because my alcohol of choice, when I drink, is rum. I’d like to come back as a cat so I can be lazy and knock shit over XD

If you were a weapon, what would you be and why? A katana because they are badass

Do you wear orange? Why/Why not? Not really, it’s just not a color I own a lot of.

If you could ask your deity of choice one question and have it answered, what would you ask? I’m honestly not sure, maybe what’s the secret to the universe?

True/False: Green buffalos come from Albania. (seriously, now.) Um, false?

[Fair Trades and Dilemmas]

If remaining a virgin (or abstaining from sex) for the rest of your life would allow you to do real magic, would you do it? Fuck yeah! Magic is fucking awesome!

How much money would it take for you to appear naked (full-frontal) for five seconds on national television? A fuck ton of money, like more money than currently exists; I am very self-conscious.

Would you rather be a complete idiot with a charming personality, or intellectually brilliant but have no friends? I’d rather be intellectually brilliant, because my true friends would still be my friends, regardless of how smart I am.

You can start any business of your choice, whether for-profit or non-profit, regardless of whether this business exists practically in the world or not and whether there’s an existing business model to make your chosen business work or not. Irrespective of what it is, it will start off moderately successfully and eventually become very successful. You will make a very satisfactory wage and your investors/sponsors will be very pleased with your work. What business would you start? Some online business that rivals Amazon.

Would you sacrifice an unknown portion of your life so that a loved one could live for one more year? Without a doubt

Tagging @theintellectualweeb @sinyaru @artbythedarkside and whoever else wants to do it

[sunnybimbo]

i definitely didn’t forget tumblr was a thing what

so have this really niche concept that is my shunkeith cowboy+ au

Summary: 

Hunk owns a library in his small town, and is happy to spend the rest of his days caring for it. But then Shiro and Keith tornado into his life, those damned cowboys, and Hunk finds himself flipped over. There's something strange about them, though 

Or, the cowboy/old west AU with a fantastical twist.

Read it on AO3. 

Freshly laid hay crunches beneath Hunk’s boots as he escapes from the borough streets and summer heat, fanning himself with his wide-brimmed hat. He offers a grin and a quick nod to the other townies as he unlocks the library door.

A bundle of wildflowers is plopped at his feet, and he pauses to bow down low to the little town orphan that loves to pretend she’s royalty. He tucks a few of the fuller flowers behind her ears, and tickles her under the chin before he sends her on her way.

The heat is no better inside than out of his cozy little library, but the heavy rays of the sun don’t scratch across his skin like a hot poker any longer, so it’s still a plus in his book.

Oh! Speaking of books. Hunk hurries to gather the few he’d forgotten to put away the night prior. He sets them in their rightful places with a quick round through the few stacks his business boasted, and dusts a few off the groddier shelves. A quick bandage before he finds his duster later.

He makes his way to the front again and props the heavy door open with an oddly shaped rock he’d found years ago. Then, dusting his hands, he heads towards the back to prepare for the lunchtime rush. That is, the few children sent over by their parent to study and/or to stay out of the way of household business.

The door to his office squeals like a piglet that’s hungry for milk when he pushes it open. It pulls a cringe from him, and he picks at his ear as he flops against his desk, shoving aside old papers for a few fresh sheets.

Expired contracts, old deeds, ripped book pages all fall off the edge to tickle his mud-stained boots; things he’d meant to throw out but never got around to. Oops.

He bends to gather them up with a soft sigh, but a familiar knock interrupts the motion. Two raps with the knuckles, then a palm against the wood grain.

From the doorway, almost shy if not for the imposing figure he cut with his scarred nose and barrel-chest, Shiro waves at him. “Good afternoon.”

He’s got a faint smile on his face, like wisps of something larger that had faded to the edges of his lips, and his eyes shine even in the muted sunlight of the backroom that was Hunk’s office. It took Hunk quite a long while not to get too enraptured with them, when they’d first met. Starlight grey, deeper than the oldest pools of time. If he were an artist, he’d probably never need another muse.

“Afternoon, Shirogane!” Hunk chirps, dusting his hands off once again before ushering him in, hurrying to pull the blinds of the tiny window in the corner. He knew how much Shiro loved whatever privacy he could get. Or, well, he assumed he knew, and Shiro never really refuted. “What can I do for you today? Another letter to write?”

“Just returning the book you lent.”

Shiro steps forward, easing the door shut with his foot enough that no one passing could peak in, but keeping it cracked enough that the noise of the outside muffles. Then, it’s only them two.

Under his arm, Shiro’s carefully nestled the book of maps Hunk had offered him.

“Did it help much?” Hunk takes the offered text with a smile, ever present on his face whenever Shiro is around, and sets it on the desk with as much care and deliberation as Shiro had handed it over.

“Helped plenty.” Shiro sweeps his eyes across the office, mostly out of habit. Never knew what lurked in a dusty corner, after all. Then, with as much of a joking tone as Hunk has come to expect from the cowboy, “Maybe I’ll advance to real books soon.”

“These’re real enough.” Hunk hurries to argue in Shiro’s own defense. “But if you ever want to try a new genre, I’m always here.”

Shiro’s faded smile comes back brighter, and Hunk ducks his head down. “I mean, the entire library is at your disposal. Of course.”

“I’ll remember it.” Shiro says, as he always says when Hunk offers. Then, he repeats back in a cheeky tone, “Of course.”

“‘s what I’m here for.” Hunk murmurs, the subtle shimmy of shy fingers tickling across the back of his neck.

Before the silence can stretch the distance between them, Shiro nods his head and moves to tip his hat with his one hand. “Thanks again.”

He waits for Hunk to dazedly lift his hand in a slow wave before he departs. He leaves behind a trail of red sand on the tiny rug Hunk had stuffed in front of the office door, tracked in from the mountains. But it’s nothing a few shakes outside won’t fix. He’s more focused on the color, really.

Sand that vibrant and pure doesn’t exist in the small world that is his hometown. But Hunk wonders if it’s just as wonderfully magical as his imagination supplies— if it smells like fire and burns like ash, or if it’s something more soothing like the waters of a purifying bath.

Not that he’s yearning for travel— no thank you ma’am. He’s entirely too happy with the comfortable routine he’s built over the years, repetitive and calm, and very much so predictable. It’s not in his blood to hop from place to place or never have a comfy bed his own.

Hunk frowns at himself, then. He has no clue where it is that Shirogane disappears to at night. Whether or not he has a bed to snuggle up in when it’s cold and wet and dreary during a late night desert drizzle.

Would it be too hasty to ask him to stay, someday?

Absolutely.

Hunk plops down at the desk again with a soft sigh, pulling his oil lamp out of the drawer rather than drawing the blinds again. He preferred working by ombre lights, anyway.

---

By the drop of night, crows have started pecking at the corners of the roof and mice scratching under the floorboards. Atleast, Hunk chose to believe they were mice.

Shiro hadn’t come back later that day, but Hunk hadn’t much been expecting him to anyway.

He goes through the motions of closing up ‘shop’. He dusts the shelves and pushes the chairs back under their snug little tables, and he subsequently gets frightened to near death when he finds Keith nestled in a corner.

His cut-off, weary yell frightens both the crows and the maybe-mice away, but Keith doesn’t even blink as he looks up from the cookbook in his lap with a muttered, gentle, “Hunk.”

“Keith,” Hunk wheezes, hand over his heart. He’d use a more proper, formal name for the man if he’d been given one, but he settles for what he gets. “You scared the bones outta my body.”

Keith frowns, eyes narrowing half shut as he looks Hunk over— as if a few bones had actually popped out and escaped. After a moment, his expression softens again, and Hunk can only fondly sigh as Keith mumbles a soft, “Pardon.” as apology.

Hunk hooks his sconce on the wall and takes a deep breath to calm his heart. Honestly, he was sure he’d tasted death’s lips moments ago.

“You tryin’ to learn a recipe today?” Hunk asks as he squeezes himself beside his squatter. The wallpaper crinkles behind his back, and he mentally reminds himself to replace it sooner before later.

“No.” Keith says, looking down at the pages. His hands dance across the letters, as if he could pluck every line out if he wanted to and fiddle with them before smoothing them back out to where they belonged. His nails catch at a creased, cat-eared corner, and he thumbs across it with a look that makes Hunk’s gut clench. The feeling reminds him of that one time he’d saw Lance break a bone falling off his roof.

Keith stays silent for so long that Hunk assumes that’s the last he’s going to say until he adds, “The words are smaller here.”

Which is very true, if not a tad cryptic. Most recipes had no need for words over four syllables, which meant less letters for him to trip over, but they were still more competent than most young children’s picture books. When he’d said as much to Keith way back when, he’d taken it without fuss and sat down in the very corner they were near-cuddling in now. He’d poured over it for hours until Hunk had ended up falling asleep in his office.

And, speaking of being a tad cryptic, Hunk had awoken that very next morning with that same book right by the front door, propped up in the perfect angle as to wedge the door shut and keep out stragglers. Hunk had no clue how he’d done it, but Keith had that air about him.

“Need help?”

“This one.” Keith points a grungy finger across the page, squinting at the bold letters. He mouths at the pronunciation, mumbling under his breath until Hunk leans over to see.

“Zucchini.” Hunk nods. “A vegetable. The, uh… long, green one?” He measures the length out with his hands. “I’m sure there’s a picture somewhere around here.”

Keith only grunts, flipping the page. He was more interested in how to say it rather than what it meant.

Hunk buries his smile against his palm, leaning his elbow against a nearby chair leg. He watches Keith trace over the paragraphs fondly, outlined in orange-gold firelight, until he yawns so hard that his jaw cracks.

Neither Keith nor Shirogane knew how to read. Both had come to him, one after the other, to seek out his assistance. He wasn’t sure if they knew the other was coming to him for help, or if they kept it a secret for some reason. But Hunk had put together enough clues to realize they atleast knew of one another.

But, besides that: because neither knew how to read, neither knew how to write. It’s Shirogane that asked him for help with that dilemma, which is how Hunk had taken to writing his letters once in a blue moon, usually while Shiro is skipping through the dictionary like a grade-schooler at lunch time. Really, he didn’t need much help, but Hunk wasn’t about to cut their sessions short, if only to be a bit selfish.

But Hunk was also too nosy not to be curious about the entire spectacle.

“Why’re you tryin’ to learn?” He’d asked Shiro, once. He hadn’t meant it to be rude, but Shiro had winced anyway as he smoothed the crisp collar of his shirt.

He’d gotten that cryptic look on his face he sometimes gets when he’s remembering his past, shrouded in storm clouds that darken his eyes. The kind of look where one side of his mouth dips lower than the other, and his jaw clenched tight. It made his scar stand out a bit more as it scrunched around the bridge.

Shiro had only shrugged a shoulder, though, and mumbled an excuse Hunk couldn’t remember anymore.

When he’d asked Keith, though, Keith looked at him like he was a striped chicken riding a blank cow.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He’d asked in return. “This is the first chance I’ve gotten in a while.”

Maybe he was speaking for the both of them back then, now that Hunk was thinking of it.

It’s on the tip of his tongue, now, to ask about Shirogane. Surely two fastmare riding cattlemen who came into town within three days of one another had to know each other, right? Atleast heard the rumors or otherwise. Hunk’s gut was only rarely wrong about these things.

He doesn’t ask, in the end. He just sits to help Keith pronounce words that have no business being as complicated as they are, cookbook or no.

He huffs as much as he leans over to squint down at one such word in the dark, and it’s that which urges the softest chuckle out of Keith’s lungs and into the static library air.

Hunk feels his heart buckle at the gentle sound, like the first flutters of a baby bird wing. He wants to hear more of it, soft and sweet and— he may be falling too deep too fast.

---

Hunk never went home that night. It’s not a rare occurrence, but it must have happened enough times in a row that his neighbor, best friend, and general troublemaker comes looking for him.

Lance saunters into the library much like a rooster knocked off its perch, before it can bellow out its morning glories, would stalk up to a farm and bite them on the big toe. He slips his way through the shelves, finds Hunk nestled between a globe and a dusty corner, and drops a bag of horse feed at his feet with a sharp bark of, “Rise ‘n shine!”

Hunk doesn’t even get out his shout of surprise fully before Lance has turned heel to open the library doors. The troublemaker.

Hunk gathers his wits as he rubs sleep from his eye and dodges the morning rays that threaten to blind him. He rakes his hair back into a messy bun as he slides his knees under himself, shaking the rest of the tired off with a quick stretch of his arms behind his head.

It’s getting longer now that summer is ending, and with the length comes the coiling curls his hair likes to form. He’s much too busy to be bothered with actual styling, though, so he allows himself to settle for keeping it back and giving it a nice, relaxing, comb-through the next time he finds a water bucket to shower with.

Hunk beams bright despite the rude awakening as he passes Lance, and claps invisible dust off his hands before he gets his day started.

Lance comes to watch him sweep off the front step of the library a few minutes later. When he’s least expecting it, Lance murmurs, “You fuckin’ someone?”

“Lance!” Hunk squeaks, much louder than he means. Those that litter the streets glance over at the commotion, but Hunk rushes back inside before they can stick into his business (as he would surely have, if the positions were mirrored). “What on Earth are you spoutin’ today?”

“You’ve got that walk!” Lance huffs in defense, arms crossing. “And you keep doin’ that thing— brushin’ your hair behind your ear.”

“It’s long.” Hunk stutters, though he does catch himself reaching up to tuck it again. “And I’m not… fuckin’ anyone.”

“Hmph.” Lance hmphs.

“Haven’t in years. You know that.”

“Wouldn’t know, what with ya never comin’ home at decent times, if ever.” Lance lifts his nose in the air, offended like a prissy kitty cat.

“What, you wanna hear my canoodlin’?” Those walls are thinner than your chest hair.” And then, when Lance lets out an embarrassed yelp as he covers his chest, Hunk gives a snicker and punctuates with, “Just teasin’.”

Lance throws a nearby doily at him anyway.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Fanboy au ( a favour for a favour)

N/A: I love the idea of people thinking Kitty is powerful when in reality she´s not, sure, she has a strange ability but ....she´s till can die(even if temporary) and is not afraid to point out that Kurt can do much more than her.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @look-ma-no-hands336 @discordsworld

@sailorstar9

In all honesty, Kitty never desires to convey power, only freedom, as the Duke of Lagos makes crystal clear that people should obey him or else...the arenas are always there, always open to the public and always closed to the victims.

Terry Pryde makes sure to install good values in her daughter, one of them, is to always help those in need. So, when small Kitty Pryde saw a begar wanting food(within the limits of the city) Kitty offers the woman a bread and a glass of milk.

The woman smiles and only reply "A favour for a favour, my dear" and reveals to be a fae, the lighting it was the most given away even if Kitty was ignorant of such creatures.

And Kitty was blessed with her house never being out of food, never!

____________________________________________________________________________

One day, Kitty Pryde was walking in the woods and saw a pretty woman in despair, her long brown hair with a white streak is the most noticeable thing in this woman and Kitty knows what she is.

"My brush falls into the water" she points at the lake and Kitty knows she´s an earth fae and water is her enemy or this could be a trap to lure the prey.

"I´ll get your brush, a favour for a favour" Kitty promised and the fae smiles politely not really believing Kitty would manage such feature. In the end, Kitty did found the brush and return to the fae. She did die and resurrect and the fae realizes that her plan won't work on everyone.

"A favour for a favour," the fae said being a good sport and touching Kitty´s forehead for a moment announced "you shall never be lost, no matter the place you´re in, you will always find the exit or the place you want to go"

Kitty shows respect and this pleased the fae who offers a friendly smile now.

"You´re that human they always talk about?" she asked.

"There are many humans that they talk about," and with that Kitty has permission to leave as her answer was 100% honest. ________________________________________________________________________ After conquering the City-Estate that was the only financial support of Lagos, Kitty makes sure the Duke is all alone in every political fashion as possible. Once no one dares to intervene in his behave.

On her way back, she stumbles on a house who belongs to Agatha Harkness, a witch that is said to be more than a regular witch.

The woman, as powerful as she is, is finalizing a daunting task, bury her son. An evil wizard that flies to close to the sun. Kitty offers to help as Agatha clearly didn´t want to do that.

"A favour for a favour?" Agatha asked kindly and Kitty nods. The task is done and a respectful time was given.

"A favour for a favour, what do you want, Kitty Pryde?" she asked kindly and Kitty is not surprised she knows her name.

"Teach me a spell or potions to heal injuries and sickness," Kitty asked and Agatha thinks that is an easier task. It takes 3 days, but, Kitty now knows healing magic.

______________________________________________________________________________

Excalibur receives an invitation from Queen Wanda(not an official title yet) to the palace. Magneto speaks with Captain Brittain about a certain mission in the south, meanwhile, Kitty noticed Wanda was about to break down and cry.

Talia was not in the palace, sadly, as she receives a diplomatic mission and is fulfilling her role perfectly.

"Queen Wanda?" Kitty asked and Wanda is wiping her tears, such rebellious tears judging by her gaze and Kitty continues her line "are you ok?"

"No, my brother, Pietro, is missing and father refuses to do anything, that horrible man don´t carry for us" Wanda is ranting not care for protocols at this moment, the communication with Pietro is lost for 2 days and Wanda has a bad feeling.

"I can search for him" Kitty speaks and Wanda, with her red eyes, look at Kitty as she never saw her before, "a favour for a favour, Shadowcat?" The Queen(not officially) asked and Kitty nods.

Excalibur was divided, Rachel, Meggan and Brian did go to Magneto´s mission in the south and Kitty search for Pietro. Two days later, she returns to Genosha with an alive Pietro in her arms.

Everyone, but Magneto, rejoice the presence of Quicksilver.

"A favour for a favour, my friend, you saved my twin, and with that, saved my soul, ask anything and I shall give to you" Wanda replied strongly and Kitty only scratches her head.

"Can I call you later when I decided what I want?" Kitty asked having no idea what she wanted with Genosha as she just wanted to bring Pietro back and Scarlet Witch nods.

_________________________________________________________________________ One day, Kitty spots Hercules in a dilemma as he´s cursing the gods(or just his father) and Kitty, in her civilian outfit, asked what´s the problem. Hercules, the Demi-God, knows who she is and Kitty would like to pretend is because she´s a good artist(oh, the resurrected thing may play some role in this, but, Kitty can draw cute bunnies)

"My brothers in the army are arrested by Circe, the evil sorceress," Hercules explained and Kitty nods "I can´t enter in her lair as she cast a spell preventing all men to enter..."

Kitty blinks "I´m not a man, 100% woman and I can draw cute bunnies, but, I can go and save your brothers for you" Kitty answers.

"A favour for a favour?" Hercules asked and Kitty nods.

She is back with Hercules´s brothers safe and sound, and in return, Hercules gives the almighty sword of justice(he has many powerful swords and favour is favour) _________________________________________________________________________

"And now, I demand to speak with the most powerful member of Excalibur!" Selene demands and Meggan shows up, it would be a great showdown, however, Selene disagrees "I meant, the real powerful one"

And Kitty is sent and Selene speaks about the glory of defeating the most powerful being in the universe.

Selene was defeated by Kitty, thanks to her new sword and her new healing magic prevent Selene to die as Excalibur needs her alive.

The Necromancer arrives in the place to see Kitty Pryde with her new sword cleaning the situation with a new spell, Selene, to pay the favour of not being murder, did give the cure of her curse.

"Hi, Elf!" Kitty speaks waving with one hand as the other is shouting blue laser energy that is revoking the curse.

"Did I miss something?"

"Nah, just the usual"

[contemporaryafricanartunframed]

An Introduction to Chéri Samba

Known for his playful, brightly-colored, graphic paintings with a political message, Chéri Samba is one of the most visible Contemporary African artists on the market today. His goal, as expressed, is to make people think critically about the world around them, and his topics range from the impact of colonialism to what it means to be a successful artist. Samba’s work has been included in basically every turning-point exhibition that is considered part of the genre’s history. His paintings have also been featured - and highly publicized - in every single one of the Sotheby’s Modern & Contemporary African art sales since they began in 2017. He exhibited at the Venice Biennale in 2007, and is represented in the permanent collections of prestigious institutions like MoMA and the Centre Pompidou.  Through this blog entry, I aim to introduce the reader to Samba and his unique paintings, providing context that will help hopefully encourage him or her to explore further.

Born in Kinto M’Vuila, a small village in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Samba came of age in a pivotal moment for his country. In the 1960s, the DRC was liberated from its Belgian colonial rule - known to be among the most violent and oppressive - and entered into a new era with “music, bars and cars” as it became an independent state. Eventually, the DRC’s economy crashed and became entangled in poverty, but the time in which Samba began to paint for a local audience (the 1970s) was one characterized by optimism and great political change. Through his artwork, Samba has set out to portray the everyday realities of Congolese life from the late 20th century up until the present day. Topics have included the involvement of youth in violence and corruption (ex. Little Kadogo, I am for Peace, That is Why I Like Weapons, 2004), as well as the prosperity of the upper-class (ex. Un Vie non Ratée (A Successful Life), 1995).

Samba has shown an interest in dilemmas that go beyond the borders of his home country and that affect us globally as well. The painting Probléme d’Eau (Water Problem), 2004 takes the international water crisis as its main theme, showing his intention to use his art to serve a purpose, or at the very least, make a political statement. Speaking about the difficulty accessing clean drinking water in Africa, Samba has said: “It’s a ridiculous problem. Why don’t the Americans help African governments to put a water tap in every home? It might be expensive, but I wonder, how much are they spending on missions to find out if there is water on Mars?” With this painting, Samba illustrates what he finds to be the absurdity of forgoing the needs of our own species in order to look for life (or evidence of life in the form of water) on other planets.

Chéri Samba, Probléme d’Eau, 2004. Acrylic on canvas. Source: http://art-for-the-world.blogspot.com/2016/05/world-water-joy-project-participating_48.html. 

Samba’s personal life plays an important role as well in the understanding of his works because many of his later works, from the late 1980s onwards, take this topic as their main theme or focal point. Samba always knew he wanted to be an artist, even from when he was a young child drawing pictures in the sand in Kinto M’Vuila. In primary school, Samba was known as the best artist, and he even sold his drawings to friends. Worried that he might not be able to make enough money off his drawings, Samba turned to painting by the time that he got to secondary school in hopes that it would lead him to a real career. One of Samba’s paintings was taken on tour with the school’s soccer team and received a huge positive reaction. Looking at the painting, Samba realized he needed to get out of his small village and pursue his artistic talent seriously.

Samba’s father, however, was not supportive of his son’s talent for art. Instead, he wanted his eldest son to stay home in the village and take care of the family farm. Samba’s struggle with his father to feel support for his artistic career plays a major role in the artist’s personal history, and has served as the inspiration for some of Samba’s paintings. In Le pardon libére, 2015, we see flames burst from Samba’s heart, as he dreams of following his love for creating art. Samba’s father stands with his back facing his son, representative of his dismissiveness regarding his son’s dream. Knowing that Samba was one of ten children, and the oldest male child, we might have some sympathy with his father, who was paying money for his son to get an education in order to help his family’s business.

Chéri Samba, Le pardon libére, 2015. Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0loCX-b8hGQ. 

At age sixteen, Samba decided that it was time to follow his heart, even without his father’s support, and left for Kinshasa in 1972. Carrying with him a burning appetite for success and recognition of his talents, Samba arrived in the city and used his existing skills to land a job in a sign painter’s studio where he produced billboards and advertisements for local clientele. Three years later, at age 19, Samba opened up his own sign painting studio and also began drawing cartoons for Congolese entertainment magazine called Bilenge Info. The same year, Samba experimented with painting on sacking cloth, canvas being too expensive, and showing his work on the street. At first, people would pass by and not really notice his artworks. To captivate the attention of the Kinois who passed by, Samba began using text in his paintings, incorporating speech bubbles and narrative lines usually written in French or Lingala (one of the four DRC languages).

His paintings became popular with an intentional audience when Samba participated in the exhibition Les Magiciens de la Terre in Paris in 1989. Following the show, collector Jean Pigozzi began acquiring works by the artists featured in the show, including Samba- whom has since achieved international fame within the Contemporary African art world. In 2004, the artist landed a solo show (J’aime Chéri Samba) at Fondation Cartier pour l’art contemporain in Paris, and was featured in another show there in 2015-2016 (Beauté Congo 1926-2015). Formal exhibition catalogues were produced for both shows, and although written in French (and therefore not accessible to everyone interested in researching the artist), they provide a valuable record of Samba and his work. The catalogue for Beauté Congo 1926-2015 is available in major art research libraries like the Watson Library at the Met and the MoMA library.

One of the most well-known (or at least visible in terms of the Contemporary African art market) Samba works is titled J’aime La Couleur (I Like Color), of which the artist made many versions. The artist himself is shown in the center of the composition, holding a paintbrush dripping with different colored droplets. The central figure is also slightly surrealist, as his skin is unfolding into a staircase-like form into the sky. Different versions of the work have come up at auction fifteen times. Perhaps the work is so popular because color is one of the signature marks of Samba’s paintings, and here he declares his love for color - matching his personal philosophy with his artistic style. Discussing the work, Samba explains: “Colour is everywhere. To me, colour is life. Our heads must twirl around as if in a spiral to realise that everything around us is nothing but colours. So I say 'I like colour' instead of saying 'I like painting'. Colour is the universe, the universe is life, painting is life."

Chéri Samba, J’aime La Couleur, 2005. Source: http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2018/modern-contemporary-african-art-l18801/lot.82.html.  

Chéri Samba in his studio, Kinshasa, 2003. Source: Les Initiés: un choix d’oeuvres (1989-2009) dans la collection d’art contemporain africain de Jean Pigozzi, Fondation Louis Vuitton, 2017.

My personal favorite Samba work is one in which he displays his signature whimsical, almost surrealist, tendency in full-force in order to relay his message. The work is called Le secret d’un petit poisson devenu grand (The secret of a small fish grown up), painted in 2002. The purpose of the painting is to instruct young artists on how to achieve success. Seeing himself as a role model, Samba has said that he hopes to inspire the next generation of African painters.

Chéri Samba, Le secret d’un petit poisson devenu grand (The secret of a small fish grown up), 2002, Oil on canvas, 81 x 100 cm. Source: http://www.pascalpolar.be/site/artisteview.php?nom_de_tri=Ch%E9ri%20Samba. 

In the work, the little fish becomes big because he has a “secret,” and that is listening to everybody, but ultimately making his own decisions with his heart. For this reason, the anatomical heart fills the largest ear present on the man-fish figure, symbolizing that among all the voices that we hear, the one of our hearts is the most important.  If no one is criticizing you, Samba explains, then it means that no one cares about you. In fact, this kind of exposure is even more important for African artists, Samba believes, because Africans should be proud of what they do. Before the exhibition Magicians de la Terre, Samba believes that people in the international art world did not believe that Africans could make art in a contemporary style.

Still working and making art, Samba splits his time between Kinshasa and Paris, and is represented by Galerie Pascal Polar in Brussels, Belgium. In terms of what Samba has been up to recently, his works were shown at The Fondation Louis Vuitton in 2017 as part of the exhibition Art/Afrique, le Nouvel Atelier, which featured works from the Pigozzi collection. Gallery Magnin-A, based in Paris, showed Samba’s work at 1-54 Contemporary African Art fair in London in 2017. Sotheby’s sold four of his paintings in their Modern & Contemporary African Art auction in May 2017, five in their March 2018 auction, and seven in their October 2018 auction. Concurrent to the inaugural edition of 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair in Marrakech, Samba’s work was shown in an exhibition at the Museum of African Contemporary Art Al Maaden (MACAAL) in February 2018. In the summer of 2018, his paintings were shown at the Evora Africa festival in Portugal and at the University of Michigan. Who knows what’s next on the horizon for this Contemporary African art star? We can only stay tuned into ContemporaryAfricanArtUnframed.tumblr.com to find out.

Photo at top: Chéri Samba, Paris, France, March 13, 2013 in his Paris workshop.  © Antoine Doyen. Source: https://antoinedoyen.photoshelter.com/image/I0000ikhRfWbsesE

Bibliography:

Abramowitz, Eden. “Chéri Samba and Congolese Popular Painting.” Sotheby’s. September 1, 2017. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.sothebys.com/en/articles/cheri-samba-and-congolese-popular-painting.

Art for The World. “World Water Joy: A Work in Progress- Participating Artist - Chéri Samba.” May 26, 2016. Accessed November 4, 2018. http://art-for-the world.blogspot.com/2016/05/world-water-joy-project-participating_48.html.

Artnet. “Chéri Samba, I Like Color - search results.” Accessed November 8, 2018. http://www.artnet.com/pdb/faadsearch/FAADResults3.aspx?Page=1&ArtType=FineArt.

ArtReview. “Chéri Samba- Congo’s Hogarth.” June 2007. Accessed November 4, 2018. http://www.fredrobarts.com/articles.html.   

Bonhams. “Lot 19: Chéri Samba: J’aime la couleur.” Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/23091/lot/19/.

“Chéri Samba.” In Luminós/City.Ordinary Joy, Ethelbert Cooper Gallery of African & African American Art. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2014. Exhibition catalogue.

Crichton-Miller, Emma. “Congolese art at Fondation Cartier.” Financial Times. August 7, 2015. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.ft.com/content/d7bf402e-3a92-11e5-bbd1-b37bc06f590c.

Culture Trip. “Chéri Samba: The Art of Telling the Truth.” January 29, 2016. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://theculturetrip.com/africa/dr-congo/articles/cheri-samba-the- art-of-telling-the-truth/.

Da Silva, José. “‘Global’ contemporary African art comes to rural Portugal - despite growing visa issues for artists travelling to Europe.” The Art Newspaper. May 30, 2018. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.theartnewspaper.com/news/new-festival-evora-africa-brings-global-contemporary-african-art-to-rural-portugal.  

Ellis-Petersen, Hannah. “Paris hosts first ever retrospective of art from Democratic Republic of the Congo.” The Guardian. July 10, 2015. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2015/jul/10/democratic-republic-of-the-congo-art-paris-fondation-cartier.

Fondation Louis Vuitton. “Sweet Samba.” Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr/fr/collection/artists/cheri-samba.html.

Galerie Pascal Polar. “Chéri Samba.” Accessed November 4, 2018.http://www.pascalpolar.be/Polaruserfiles/file/about/polar/samba/Cheri-SAMBA%20BIO.pdf.  

Hawkins, Sydney. “U-M exhibition challenges traditional understanding of African arts and cultures.” University of Michigan News. August 8, 2018. Accessed November 4, 2018.  https://news.umich.edu/u-m-exhibition-challenges-traditional-understanding-of-african-arts-and-cultures/.

LVMH. “‘Art/Afrique, le Nouvel Atelier’ at Fondation Louis Vuitton showcases African art.” April 26, 2017. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.lvmh.com/news-documents/news/artafrique-le-nouvel-atelier-at-fondation-louis-vuitton-showcases-african-art/.  

Magnin-A. “Chéri Samba.” Accessed November 4, 2018. http://www.magnin-a.com/en/artistes/presentation/864/cheri-samba.

Magnin, André, Fondation Cartier. Beauté Congo: 1926-2015. Paris: Fondation Cartier pour l’art contemporain, 2015.  

Ochieng, Akinyi. “5 Works of Art You Need to See at 1:54 Contemporary African Fair London 2017.” OkayAfrica. October 6, 2017. Accessed November 4, 2018. http://www.okayafrica.com/5-works-art-need-to-see-1-54-contemporary-african-fair-london-2017/.   

Orosz, Peter. “Kicking it with the cool kids of 1950s Kinshasa.” Jalopnik. November 29, 2011. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://jalopnik.com/5863413/kicking-it-with-the-cool-kids-of-1950s-kinshasa.   

Piasa. “The contemporary art of Chéri Samba.” April 18, 2018. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.piasa.fr/en/news/actualite-art-contemporain-cheri-samba.

Sesay, Nadia. “1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair Landing in Marrakech is 2018’s Most Anticipated Art Event.” OkayAfrica. February 23, 2018. Accessed November 4, 2018.  http://www.okayafrica.com/1-54-contemporary-african-art-fair-lands-in-marrakech/.  

Sotheby’s. “Chéri Samba: Une Vie non Ratée (A Successful Life).” Accessed November 4, 2018. http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2017/modern-contemporary-african-l17801/lot.2.html.    

Sotheby’s. “Results for ‘chéri samba.’” Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.sothebys.com/en/searchresults.html?query=cheri%20samba&refinementList%5Bdepartments%5D%5B0%5D=African%20Modern%20%26%20Contemporary%20Art.  

We Are Our Choices. “CHÉRI SAMBA 1/3 - Congo Imagination.” YouTube Video, 8:01. May 10, 2017. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PLiFbXVhb3POVGoJ6OD1ZitKuBO97947eP&v0loCX-b8hGQ.

We Are Our Choices. “CHÉRI SAMBA 3/3 - From Africa to the World.” YouTube Video. 7:25, May 17, 2017. Accessed November 4, 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQrwhAcJEMg.   

Worldcat.org. “Beauté Congo: 1926-2015.” Accessed November 4, 2018. http://www.worldcat.org/title/beaute-congo-1926-2015-congokitoko/oclc/914160532&referer=brief_results.

[haiky-u-lously]

Valentine’s Surprise: Kagami Part 2

@vball-baes-bball-babes , Here is the second part to your valentine’s gift. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for all you do.

Part 1 |  Part 2

It was the end of the school day and you had yet to receive another gift from your “secret valentine”. While packing your bags you hoped, maybe they had snuck something into your locker again, but after further consideration figured you might be getting greedy.

You heard someone approaching and looked up from your supplies.

“Hello, Jade.”

You gave the boy a thankful smile, “Hi Kuroko. Thanks for not scaring me this time.”

He just nodded. Then held out his hand. A hand that held your unopened letter.

You immediately jumped out of your chair, grabbed it and hugged the boy.

“Thank you so much! I’m so happy you didn’t let him read this. It would have ruined everything and made it awkward and just thank you Kuroko. You-you don’t know what it means to me.” You held your smile as you pulled away. A small wall of tears building in your eyes.

Having almost forgot about the mishap surrounding the letter, it made you even more ecstatic to see it was unopened.

“But that’s not what—”

His comment was cut off as your phone began to ring. “Oh, just a second Kuroko. Hello?” You turned slightly away so you wouldn’t seem as rude in taking the call.

“JADE! Get out here. Fast.” Then the call ended.

You did not fully understand why Charlie had called you with that message, but figured it was better to play along. “Sorry, Kuroko. Looks like I gotta run. Thanks again for keeping my letter safe. I owe you!”

You gave him a last smile before leaving to find your friend.

“But I didn’t. I tried getting him to read it and he refused…” The blue haired boy sighed in defeat as he realized nothing was going to go easily between you and his Light.

___________________________

“Holy…” You sighed out, once you reached the student court yard.

Someone had done the most intricate chalking of your personage you had ever seen. And, it presented you in such a happy state. Crows feet shown with reflection of the sun, the smile of the image bringing rule smiles to passerby’s.

The artist had slightly curled your shoulder length hair to give it a fuller look in the work and your normally brown eyes seemed to have specks of gold in them. But it was undeniable that the image was supposed to be you. What with your signature glasses being present…you were completely shocked.

It took you almost a minute to gain control over your breathing.

“Wow…” You finally expressed after what felt like hours of staring at the portrait.

Charlie laughed, “Wow? Well, duh. Wow. Its freaking fantastic? Who did this? Do you have any idea?” Your friend turned to face you, facing your shoulders towards themselves, but your eyes were glued to the portrait.

“No.” You answered simply. “But I want to.”

Charlie watched you stare at the chalking. Studying the gaze in your eyes that told you were in complete adoration. (Not with what the drawing was of particularly, but of how much effort someone went through to show you they cared for you).

________________

A few feet away, Kagami stood watching you with your friend.

The smile your features held eased the tension in his shoulders.

“Kagami-kun.”

The red head jerked at the sudden voice behind him. Turning slightly, he saw his basketball buddy and released a sigh. Running a hand down his face, he said, “Jeez, Kuroko. You’d think I’d be used to this by now…”

The blue haired boy just stared up at his teammate. “Kagami, did you do that?”

The boy in question scoffed. “Heck no, I can’t do something that good.” But he turned to look at you again.

“Did you have someone else do it for you?”

Kagami’s shoulders tightened at the accusation, but the 6’3” male made no verbal response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Kuroko peered around his friend before adding, “So it is Jade that you like?”

At being caught, Kagami nodded in confirmation. Still refusing to peel his gaze from your figure.

“Okay.” Kuroko said, and started walking away.

Confusion became a noose around his neck, forcing Kagami to face his blue-haired companion rather then watch your brunette strands swaying in the slight breeze. “What do you mean okay? You’ve been bugging me about this for weeks and all you can say is okay?” He asked incredulously.

Kuroko simply shrugged as he continued on his path.

Kagami, as much as he didn’t want to, followed his friend towards the main building. Wanting to question him further on the sudden change in attitude about his romantic interests.

____________________

“Well what am I supposed to do then?” You asked. Turning between Paige and Charlie. Hoping one of your friends would have a solution to your dilemma. “I want to know who my ‘secret valentine’ is, but they have not given me any hints and all the gifts just sort of appear…”

Charlie hummed in response. Indicating that you were heard, but that they were thinking through their answer.

Paige responded almost immediately after, “Well obviously they’ve been paying attention to you. I mean they put lunch in your locker, so they knew you didn’t visit between the beginning of school and lunch period. And, they put the cake on your desk, which meant they knew you didn’t hang around your next class during lunch.” She started laughing before continuing, “And they know you well enough to hit your favorite foods with a pizza at lunch and a chocolate cake for dessert.”

Charlie nodded in agreement, then added, “I’d also say they pay a lot of attention to you. The details on that picture aren’t from someone who just knows you in passing. Even if they didn’t make the image themselves they had to give the artist a LOT of direction. I mean the glasses were obviously yours but the sparks of gold that come out in your eyes when you are truly happy about something? That’s something only those who have seen it are privy to.”

“But who would like me enough to do this and not say anything?” You huffed out in annoyance. “It’s not like I’m friends with that many people…”

Both of your friends began laughing and you pouted at the insinuations.

“Please.”

“You are like…”

“The friendliest person out of our whole group.”

“And the whole basketball team knows you…”

“Right can’t forget about all those guys.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yea, sure. I totally bet that it’s one of the players. And, that Ms. I-can’t-keep-a-secret-to-save-my-life didn’t hear anything from her boyfriend. Or, that little I-know-who-everyone-likes had no indication of it.”

Paige acted like you’d stabbed her. “Me? Not keep a secret? Dahling, the things you don’t know.” She smiled at the end, to show you she wasn’t really upset.

“And I have never claimed to know everything about everyone. I can just read people easier than most in our school.” Charlie contended.

“Whatever,” You submitted. “So, how do I find out who it is?”

The two walking besides you smiled at one another. “You leave them a gift in return.” They said simultaneously.

“How?” Your eyes quirked in confusion, wondering how in the world you could leave a gift for someone you didn’t know.

“In your locker.”

“Or the courtyard.”

“Or, make an announcement at school.”

“Oh! I like that option. Good job, Paige!” Charlie complimented.

Paige flipped her long hair over her shoulder with a smirk, “Thanks.”

“So I’m just going to make a school wide announcement?” You were amazed at their combined stupidity. “Yea right. That’d be too embarrassing. And, what would I even say? No, no thank you. Next option.”

“Nah, we’ve decided.” Paige winked at you.

Charlie wrapped you in a side hug. Stepping away added, “Tomorrow be ready to read out a page during the announcements.” Waving goodbye, your friend only had one more thing to say. “Paige, have fun with Teppei tonight. But see if you can pull any information from him. If it is one of the boys, I wanna know.”

The girl still standing besides you held a thumbs-up before giving her own goodbyes and taking off in the opposite direction.

“How do I get myself into these situations?” You asked the sky.

Unfortunately, no response came. You continued on your way home, all the time thinking about if its really worth the possible embarrassment.

______________

During after school practice, Kagami had somehow gotten over whatever bump in the road held his attention during lunch.

Everyone was happy that their star team member was back at peak performance but already missed the ease that they had defeating him earlier. Hyuga and Teppei were taking a break, drinking water and drying off while watching all the underclassmen continue a few drills.

“It’s kinda like a switched flipped in him.” Hyuga offered.

Teppei agreed silently but was busy checking the clock every possible second.

His captain laughed at him before cutting his friend a break. “Just leave early.” The expectant look given in return was nothing but a plea for seriousness. Laughing the dark-haired male repeated his sentiment. “Have fun with Paige but be ready to practice harder tomorrow. Can’t have you slacking on us now.”

Teppei smiled, said his thanks and left the gym.

“Aw young love.” Riko said, approaching the team captain.

Hyuga smiled at Teppei’s retreating figure. “Yea, well he isn’t nearly as bad as Kagami.”

The pair laughed out with ease.

Calming down, Riko asked, “When do you think they will figure out they have the hots for each other?”

Hyuga pretended to think for a second. “I think Charlie might have caught on. Paige probably has her suspicions. As for Jade? If her interactions are any indication, she probably doesn’t even realize Kagami thinks of her as an actual person.”

Riko nodded and waved her hand for her friend to continue.

“I think tomorrow Jade’s friends will make her do something ridiculous to figure out who her secret valentine is. Kagami is going to feel threatened because it isn’t going to work out the way everyone has planned and he will confess to her outright. She’ll think its some prank the team is pulling on her and break out into tears until he calms her down. He’ll say he wants to prove it to her with a kiss because that’s what they do in America but that he doesn’t want to make her if she doesn’t like him back. Then the rest will play out like one of those romance movie stories you love so much, Riko.”

The basketball coach stood in awe of the captain’s imagination.

Neither realized a blue haired boy standing behind them. Hearing everything. And, agreeing that it was the most likely scenario.

Kuroko decided he didn’t want to risk the possibility of either his friends being upset over a misunderstanding. And walked out of practice.

_______________

Your doorbell rang, pulling your thoughts from the homework you had just started to work on.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side was flat in responding. “Jade. If you are free, I’d like to speak.”

You opened the door and adjusted your glasses. “Oh, hello Kuroko.”

“Sorry for the bother.” He said. “Kagami is your secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Yea okay. Thanks, Kuroko.”

He huffed out in annoyance and looked down to his pup. Silently asking for assistance from the inhuman creature. “I’m not joking, Jade.”

Looking directly into his empty eyes, you hoped you’d see some sort of tell, but they were as blank as always. “Kuroko. Kagami is a basketball prodigy. He is spectacular at pretty much everything he seems to put his mind on. He is super tall, and smart, and funny, and he has a smile that can melt metal. And you’re trying to tell me he is secretly fascinated with a pun loving, cheese head that writes fiction in her free time? Yea, okay. Thanks for playing.”

You went to shut the door. To wallow in self-pity. Sure, you had wanted it to be Kagami, you loved the tall basketball player after all, but you couldn’t see yourself as good enough for him.

Kuroko blocked the door with his body, and you blinked at how suddenly he seemed to have gotten in the way. “I’m not joking. He didn’t read the card even thought I begged him to because he wanted to see if you liked him after he finished his plan. He was upset during lunch because he didn’t see your reaction to the pizza and poem, and then you were sharing it with Paige. He also second guessed if his plan was worth it and acceptable since it could be considered stalker-y.” The boy kept listing off reasons why he thought you secret admirer was Kagami and then he dropped a bombshell. “And, when I asked him how he did the chalking he told me he hired an artist to do it so he could see your reaction to one of his gifts.”

The shock on your face told the blue haired male you were just started to believe in the possibility. So, he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your house.

“Now, come with me.” He simply stated, giving you time to shut and lock your house door before following him back towards the school.

______________

“Kagami, make sure you get some rest tonight.” Hyuga chastised before exiting the gym.

The red headed player nodded his consent before returning to practice his free throws. He kept trying different forms, seeing which was more consistent. Kagami was pretty upset with his performance during lunch and wanted to be able to impress you when you came in the next day.

It had been a few minutes of no noise coming from anything except him and the basketballs he worked with. So, imagine his surprise when his name was suddenly called followed by a mid-pitched bark.

“Kagami.”

“Bark-bark!”

The shot he was in the middle of rolled from his fingers, barely reaching the rim and falling outside of the basket. He had frozen in place and could rival a statue after being so thoroughly shocked.

Slowly, his blood returned to his extremities and Kagami began to chastise the shadow of Seirin. “Kuroko, you need to stop scaring—” But Kagami cut himself off seeing that his blue-haired teammate was standing next to you.

To him, you looked like a goddess in the light. You chocolate brown hair, and eyes that seemed to shine brighter than a star hidden behind your favorite pair of glasses. “Hello.” He said simply.

You nodded at him but turned away.

He smile dropped and he turned his attention back to Kuroko. “What’s up?”

The boy looked between his two friends. After realizing neither would say a thing on their own he decided to state the obvious before leaving them to their own devices. “Jade likes you, the letter I tried getting you to read earlier was from her.” Before your opened mouth could protest, Kuroko held up a silencing hand signal and continued. “And I told her that you were her secret valentine. She doesn’t believe me. But I told her about the drawing and the jealousy you felt that through you off your game at lunch.” Again, before an argument could be made from the other two individuals in the room, Kuroko moved on. “So, you two work it out and I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Following his spiel, the blue haired male left, little Tetsuya following close on his heels.

It took you and Kagami a few minutes to process everything that Kuroko had shared.

“I didn’t not believe him, I just didn’t think you’d—”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read your letter, I just didn’t know it—”

You both had tried speaking at the same time and cut off almost equally as well.

Laughing at the awkwardness, you motioned for your crush to go first.

He sighed as he walked closer to you. “I didn’t let him tell me who the letter was from. If I knew it was yours I would have read it. I’m sorry.”

The shock that took over your features did nothing to dissuade his rant.

“Yes, I left the gifts. I originally thought it’d be a nice game. Something from a romance story that would help my case in the event you didn’t like me. But the more I thought about it the more I thought about how creepy it’d be. Someone riffling through your stuff to leave behind food and a creepy poem? Someone leaving more food in your seat? Like, not only could that be taken as you are having a stalker, but also what if the food had been poisoned?” His voice hitched as he changed his pattern of speech, “Speaking of, how could you be so trusting? It could have been someone trying to kill you? And, you just trusted it??”

During this break in his speech you laughed, clutching your stomach. “Kagami, I-I just…hahaha…I don’t refuse free food like that? And, I think anyone going to that much trouble to give me stuff I live wouldn’t really want to hurt me.”

He smiled at you, but disbelief still stood in his eyes.

You even your breathing and began your own short interlude. “I didn’t think you even saw me as anything other then the quiet girl that hung around Teppei’s girlfriend. I’ve had a crush on you for so long but never thought of myself as good enough for you. Also, that letter was a dare from a friend. I never meant for it to get out. If you had read it I feared what little interactions we had would come to a screeching halt because you wouldn’t want to be bothered by someone like me.” You shrugged away your own comments but missed the look that crossed his face. “I just didn’t want to risk the building friendship I thought I was creating with you.”

He rolled his eyes and threw caution to the wind. Wrapping you in a tight hug. The warmth he felt from the contact eased his racing heart.

And, the warmth you felt from him caused your heart to race even more.

You slowly moved to hug him in return and he visibly relaxed.

“I’d wanted to do that and more for so long.” He breathed out lowly.

Leaning back, you looked up into his deep colored eyes. “And more..?” You asked shyly.

The smirk that mixed with his half-smile had your knees nearly buckling.

He winked at you but went back to his simple embrace. “Later. This is enough for now.”

It felt as though he had closed his eyes. You returned the silent gesture and tightened your hold on him.

After a few minutes you both pulled apart.

“Well, I guess I found my secret valentine.” You laughed out a bit nervously.

“Does it bother you that it’s me?” He asked, picking up a ball by his feet and twirling it on his finger, pretending to not care about your answer.

You scoffed at him, “Please. I am doing cartwheels in my head I am so happy.”

He held a full smile as he dropped the ball. “Awesome.”

Your pair laughed a little before you asked, “So, what do we do from here?”

Holding out his arm, the smile on his face unwavering, “Well, it’s still Valentine’s day. How about you let me treat you to a nice dinner?”

The way he asked it seemed to say he was still nervous you’d reject him. Without hesitation, you took his arm saying, “I’d go anywhere with you Kagami.”

“Thank you, Jade.” He pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you accepted me as your Valentine.”

[iamshuvashis]

80 Years Of Animated Fairy Tales:

 By the early 1930s Walt Disney faced a dilemma: his popular cartoon shorts about Mickey Mouse were starting to lose money. His competitors could afford to produce cartoons at a loss as lead-ins to their live action films; Disney, who did not have a movie studio, could not.

But he had another idea: he could produce a full-length film of his own. Only, instead of making a live action film, he could produce a full-length cartoon feature, running, say, for about 88 minutes. Good length. Sure, it might cost as much as $500,000. (Cue gasps.) He would need 300 artists. It had never been done before. It’s safe to say that very few people thought this was a good idea. And that $500,000 turned out to be a very wrong estimate. It’s also very safe to say that this idea is why we have the entertainment megacorporation of Disney as it exists today.

The process of creating Snow White officially began when Walt Disney acted out the story he had in mind to his main animators. Later, some of them said Disney’s performance had brought them to tears; whether this was true, or just a later Disney legend, is a bit difficult to determine. But the preparation had started long before that. Disney had wanted artists that could be cartoonists, but not just cartoonists, and paid to have his cartoonists take art classes, first at the Chouinard Art Institute, and later at the newly formed Disney Art School. (Somewhat scandalously, some of these art classes involved—gasp—nude models, which apparently had the side effect of encouraging cartoonists to show up.) Cartoonists were also sent to the zoo to study animals.

This was all great, but it left just a few little technical problems: first, the difficulty of creating the illusion of depth from two dimensional drawings, needed to give the film a realistic feel; second, the difficulty of creating four lifelike animated humans; and third, not having enough artists available, even after the art school program. Oh, sure, Disney had artists diligently churning out Mickey Mouse cartoons, but for this, he needed more. Three hundred more.

This might have been impossible except for a fortunate (for Disney) historical fluke: Disney just happened to need those artists during the Great Depression. Which in turn meant quite a few just happened to be available at considerably lower-than-usual rates.

That still left Disney with the two other issues. The solution to the first was a technical milestone: a multiplane camera. First, the art was separated and put on different levels of glass. Then, each piece of glass was separated. This meant that when the camera moved in, the art on top would get “bigger” faster than the art on the bottom—giving the illusion of depth, and allowing the camera to move in and out, the same way it could in a live action film. As an added bonus, this meant that special effects—for instance, rain, which was not always animated, but instead a film of actual water drops—could be filmed on a separate piece of glass.

Next came the issues of trying to animate three adult humans, one girl, and seven dwarfs—and make their actions look realistic. Animated cartoons had included human figures before, of course—but always in exaggerated, unrealistic forms, and the results had looked, well, wrong. For Snow White, animators studied dancers and asked the voice actors for the dwarfs to dance, studying their movements as well, to see how humans actually move. The end result seems commonplace today, but at the time it was an innovation: animated humans with (nearly) natural movement.

It wasn’t perfect—the Huntsman’s movements, for one, are not always entirely convincing; an artistic/production error led to an accidental “shimmer” effect with the Prince, and a few of Snow White’s movements are off as well. But at the time, audiences found it jaw-dropping.

So how does it hold up today?

I’d have to say, mixed.

A significant part of the problem—and one, to be fair, pointed out by the animators at the time—is the film’s pacing. It starts off sharply, moves into a terrorizing forest sequence (a sequence that not all small children survive) then pauses for a long, extended housecleaning scene, pauses for another long sequence focused on the dwarfs, and then another long sequence focused on the dwarfs, and finally jumps back into the action as the queen belatedly realizes that the Huntsman gave her the wrong heart. Which means that we get a very long, often slow cartoon about singing, cleaning, working, and properly washing faces and hands, where very little actually happens (unless you are counting the story of that poor tortoise) bookended with sequences of near horror and terror.

As you might be realizing, this creates a rather jarring tonal problem as well, and for all its ambition to be the first full-length animated film, Snow White isn’t quite there in anything but length: rather, it’s a sometime uneasy mix of the old cartoon shorts with a full-length film. To a very large extent, this was playing up to the audiences of the time, who had certain expectations from their animated cartoons that focused on short, funny gags and characters doing silly things. Walt Disney, almost always good at reading his potential audience, correctly guessed that this audience would be expecting silly dwarf scenes, and provided that—even as his animators complained that the dwarfs’ scenes went on for far too long.

But in a way, they had to: Despite the need to fill 88 minutes of screen time, Walt Disney severely cut the original story, eliminating the original beginning, with its deeply symbolic elements, two of the queen’s attempts to assassinate Snow White, and the gruesome ending in which the evil stepmother is forced to dance in hot iron shoes until she dies. Not that the evil stepmother gets away scot-free—or alive—in the Disney version, either, but the death occurs largely off screen, confirmed mostly by the hungry eyes of the lurking vultures.

(Not that the vultures convinced small me at all. We didn’t see the witch really die, after all, and she was a witch with a magic mirror, so clearly she was totally still alive and was going to come back and kill all of the little birds and rabbits. So, yay Disney for sorta trying to reduce the cartoon violence, but minus several points for leaving a little six-year-old me in quaking terror.)

Cutting those two assassination attempts was almost certainly necessary to keep Snow White from looking too credulous—especially since, to keep the last assassination attempt believable, Disney did keep Snow White almost as young as she was in the Grimm fairy tale. Almost. As noted last week, Snow White, in the original Grimm/Lang versions, is seven when she first becomes “as beautiful as she could be,” and runs off to the woods shortly after that. This Snow White seems to be at least twelve—she’s old enough to work as a scullery maid, and take on a motherly role to the dwarfs. But not much older than that. She’s drawn with a flat chest and the features of a young girl, and voiced with a childish, high pitched voice—in striking contrast to the rich, older tones of her stepmother.

(It’s also in striking contrast to the voices of later Disney princesses, usually voiced with richer, more mature tones; the closest vocally to Snow White are the younger heroines Alice in Alice in Wonderland and Wendy in Peter Pan, who aren’t princesses or love interests. For entertainment, try comparing the voices of Snow White (1937), Cinderella (1950), Belle (1991) and Elsa and Anna (2014).)

It’s not just her appearance and voice, either, but many of her actions that indicate her youth and inexperience. When Snow White first sees the Prince, she runs. Sure, she later pops out of a tower to sing at him, a probable nod to Rapunzel, and, to be fair, older girls might also flee after being surprised by the head of a stranger popping up over a wall, but that initial reaction suggests a certain immaturity. In the forest, she reacts to her surroundings in sheer terror, running, tripping, falling, and weeping—later calling herself silly for doing so. In part, of course, she is fleeing her stepmother, under the perhaps justified feeling that she can’t possibly escape the woman…even if the evil queen only seems to be employing one other servant and a raven. True, the evil queen also has a magical mirror, which should count for something, but the mirror does not seem to be particularly good at the whole chasing-down-princesses-in-the-wood bit.

But her most childish moment comes later in the film, when she eats the apple offered to her by the old witch. Everything—the warnings from other characters, the reactions from the animals, the sudden appearances of the vultures who, I must say, did not show up for the major housecleaning binge, like, thanks, vultures—should tell her not to do this. She was intelligent enough to make the best of things under her stepmother; intelligent enough to realize that she had been foolish for no reason at all; intelligent enough to bargain her way into a home with the dwarfs. And yet, this.

It feels wrong, and makes sense only if Snow White is enchanted (which she doesn’t seem to be), if Snow White is incredibly stupid (which again, apparently not, based on other bits of the film), if Snow White is too terrified to say no (an explanation that appears in other retellings, but not here), or if she is simply too young to know better. Disney went with the last.

But that reasoning in turn creates another jarring moment, since this young girl, young enough to take an apple from a terrifying old woman despite ample warning, is the same young girl who, just moments earlier, takes on a motherly role with the seven dwarfs—all men older than she is. (Well, at least six of them are. Dopey may be three.) It’s not just that she, with a lot of domestic assistance from the various cute animals, cooks and cleans for them—she also orders them to clean up before dinner, and kisses them all on the head good night.

In part, Snow White can take on this role because—in stark contrast to the Grimm version—when she arrives, the little cottage is an absolute disaster, and the dwarfs, if not exactly interested in cleanliness, are interested in getting a decent meal. The dwarfs in the Grimm tale don’t actually need Snow White as their housekeeper; it’s a fair trade for their protection, as well as part of the ongoing Grimm moral lesson (good girls focus on housework, not vanity). In the Disney version, Snow White earns her way into the cottage with hard work—with, admittedly, the help of a lot of animals, as a nice nod to the idea that it’s almost certainly impossible for one girl to take care of seven very messy men without help.

This also allows the film to linger on its theme of work. It’s not completely new to the story: in their version of “Snow White,” The Grimms had associated housework with positive images of women and girls—basically, girls that do housework, and avoid the temptations of vanity, stay alive and get the prince. The Disney version doesn’t quite follow this: it’s surprisingly, and even hilariously, not all that concerned with issues of vanity and personal appearance—hilariously, given the Disney Princess product line this film would eventually help launch. Yes, Snow White does look at herself in the well once, but the purpose of this is more to set up a song (“I’m wishing!”) and to show off that Disney’s animators had accomplished the hitherto impossible: creating an animated image of something reflected in water, than to say much about her looks. (Thanks, multiplane camera!) And that’s about it for Snow White’s vanity.

But the Disney version does pick up the work focus, only with a twist. It focuses on the sheer joy of having work to do, and the idea that working will bring you joy. In our first glimpse of Snow White, we see her smiling as she scrubs steps. We later see her singing and smiling as she cleans up the house, and a number of adorable woodland animals eagerly help her out—and have fun doing so. We see the dwarfs—whose accents, grammar and failure to bathe regularly stem from then-popular representations of working class people—sing about the sheer joy of working. All this while doing housework and mining, typically classified as tedious, menial jobs.

Doing tedious tasks have often been part of a hero’s journey and assigned tasks feature in many fairy tales, often with the assistance of small animals the hero had helped along the way. But this particular message seems to spring more directly from the Great Depression than from fairy tales, a message that reflected the relief of having any job at all, no matter how menial or tedious. And to a certain extent the original condition of that cottage may also have reflected certain images from the Great Depression: neglected, almost run down, small enough that the seven dwarfs all have to share a single bedroom—though at least they’ve personalized their beds. And although definitely cartoonish, the images of the dwarfs curling up in various odd places also fit familiar images of unemployed people finding jobs wherever they could.

That these scenes are cut between shots of the dwarfs picking up huge gems from the mine suggests that something is seriously wrong with this kingdom’s economy—echoed in the scenes in Snow White’s nearly empty castle. The dwarfs have gems, yes, but no one is buying them. Still. It’s a job, and so, hi ho, hi ho, off to work they go.

Since I’ve brought that up, I must say that I found the songs a bit of a mixed bag on this outing as well. Three, granted, became instant classics and Disney staples—“Heigh-Ho,” “Whistle While You Work,” and “Someday My Prince Will Come,” and it’s entirely possible that hearing the latter in far, far, too many television commercials over the years shaped my instinctive cringing at the sound of it sung in Snow White’s little piping voice. “I’m Wishing,” sung in the same little high pitched voice, which has not been as eagerly embraced by advertisers, did not evoke the same reaction, so that could well be it.

But I can’t say that my reaction to the washing song and the silly song done by the dwarfs had anything to do with advertising: those songs have not become popular staples, for a reason. As the animators complained, they are featured in sequences that last far too long, almost to the point of forgetting that yes, yes, there’s an evil witch out there. The moment she comes back, the dwarfs immediately recede: the Evil Queen doesn’t just have a far more powerful presence, she’s visually more interesting.

Walt Disney, however, insisted on leaving in the lengthy sequences: he wanted the dwarfs to be individuals, characters that the audience could embrace. Even if, in the end, Snow White and her prince couldn’t, or at least didn’t—they head off to a palace, while the dwarfs stay behind, sadly waving their hats, getting ready to head back to work. Housework brought Snow White to her prince; mining work leaves the dwarfs open to having complete strangers, evil witches, and assorted animals just walk into their home at any time, arranging things to suit themselves. But then again, I can hardly say that the dwarfs did anything to save Snow White, other than put her in that coffin: not only do they leave Snow White at the cottage without protection (as in the original fairy tale) but they waste several valuable moments fighting with the animals who are trying to warn them. Well done, dwarfs.

Which is probably why, in the end, my favorite characters end up being the Evil Queen, magnificent in her evil, willing to go to hideous lengths to remain the loveliest woman in the land, only to fall off a cliff because she didn’t have the sense to make her disguise something she could easily drop in order to run faster.

And the little tortoise.

I’d totally forgotten this film even had a little tortoise. It turns out, however, that he’s the most adorable and heartwarming character in the entire film, and yes, I’m including all of the dwarfs and the cute little animals. Possibly because each and every time he finally achieves his slow, hard-fought-for goal, he gets knocked down and has to start all over. With a smile. I’ve been there, tortoise, I’ve been there. Hugs.

And that leads to the other great part of the film: the animal animation, which is spectacularly beautiful, with each and every animal individually animated. Disney would only reach those heights in a few more films: it’s incredible that they started off so well here. They are almost—almost—enough to help little viewers forget that this film also has a very scary witch. VERY SCARY.

Watching the film, it’s remarkable just how many elements of the Disney brand are already in place: the adorable helpful little animals, the first of the Disney princesses, and of course, the memorable songs. As much as Walt Disney liked to say afterwards that it all started with a mouse, it’s equally accurate to say that it all started with a fairy tale. What’s also remarkable is just how many elements of the Disney brand are not there, and would be developed later. We’ll be seeing that as we continue.