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skeletinmoss · 11 months

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Tutorial for @mimssides

How I draw with alcohol markers. Beginner edition

First off all I want to specify: this is based on my experience only, so take it with caution. This is also my first tutorial ever.

1) Have an underpaper.

Unless you use some really thick paper, markers will bleed on your next page or table ( depending if you're drawing in a sketchbook or not). I recommend to have one list of some decent paper under the page you're drawing on. Decent means thicker than office paper, can be watercolor paper, it usually perfect for it. It's reusable and over the years mine two look like this:

( you can see there's a lot of stuff going on there)

2) Always, and I mean ALWAYS erase your sketch.

If you're doing a quick try out of color combinations you can skip this step, because you don't need the aesthetic or anything. I'm not sure how useful this tip is for colored pencils ( cuz I never sketch with those), but with regular graphite pencil it's very much important. Graphite smudges your markers, and not only that. It also gets trapped if you go over it with a marker, meaning you wouldn't be able to erase it and it's going to leave you with gray smudges all over. Truly awful.

3) Have your pallets on the same paper you draw on. Or simply - have pallets!

Colors can show differently on different paper, that's why it's important to do color swatches once you buy your markers. They are designed for specific paper, and on your paper they can look a lot darker or really pale. I recommend testing colors before you buy them, it's usually an option in the most craft stores. If you're buying a set just take 30 minutes to do all the swatches and naming them. It also helps visually to see what colors you have.

(I have a lot, but you don't need as much, there's like 60 colors I use usually and the rest are on rare occasions. Build a set you're comfortable with)

4) Make sure your materials all work together.

We already talked about graphite swatches, not the worst thing that can happen to you. Mainly you need to make sure how your materials work together, how they lay on top of each other. Make sure your lineart won't react to your markers, there's special waterproof liners and those are the best for markers ( mine are Pigma Micron from Sakura). See how your pens and liners act before and after you apply markers.

Decide which is better to use before and which after markers

5) No black.

I don't use black in any of my drawings. All you see is different shades of gray. It looks much more pleasant with the rest of the colors and it allows for my lineart to be visible underneath. Sometimes even those grays are too dark and I need to add more shades or white lineart to fix it

6) How to shade.

This is a very subjective thing to talk about. You can shade how you want. I will talk about two ways I shade.

1. Same marker. Markers dry. And when they do you can go over them another time. Usually that makes a darker shade of the same color and it's a pretty safe way to do the shading if you don't know which colors can go together. It doesn't work as well on the light colors and difference can be barely noticeable. It's a nice way to get soft shading

2. The pure chaos. Just kidding... Different color marker. It's hard to explain, and yo always need to test what works for you. If you want sharper shade you need to grab a different color, can be from the same hue ( for yellow - orange, for red - burgundy) or something a little more spicy. You can add different hues to your colors with different shades ( your black with red shades is suddenly looks burgundy, or purple, or blue). Experiment! Fail! Find out which combinations work and which don't!

If color seems a little darker than you expect you can go over it with original color, which might lighten it up. This tip doesn't always work

7) How to do gradients.

1. Choose your colors beforehand, see how well they work together. It's easy to do a gradient from red to pink, but not so much from orange to blue. You might need to choose lighter colors, because if you want smooth transition from one color to another you will need to go over them a couple of times and that will darken them.

2. Add a middle color. Not every gradient needs a middle color, but with it you can make your gradient much smoother, it will be more noticeable the bigger aria you cover. The more middle colors you have the more harder gradients you can do

( without and with a middle color)

3. Act quickly. Markers dry relatively quickly so you need to add colors one after the other, you can't go away before you're done.

4. Blend with the lighter color. You can also start with this color as a base but that doesn't work for all color combinations. Lighter color will go in top a darker and flow into it making it lighter and transition smoother. ( example: you go from red to purple to cyan, you will need to start with red, then purple going over red to soften it, and finally the lightest cyan going over purple and maybe even a little red). You always put darkest first and go over it.

There's other methods of doing the gradients. They are very similar actually, but for second one you will need a blender. For the first one grab two markers you want to use ( more if you're feeling risky) turn one of the markers upside down and touch their tips. Now use your understanding of gravity. Color from the top marker will go into the bottom one. The longer you wait the longer the gradient will be. Usually I don't need to wait longer than 3 seconds.

And you can do the same with a blender

8) How to use a blender.

Blender is a marker with no color. Usually it's named B000 (I recommend buying a blender with brush tip). There are many ways to use it.

Gradients: you can use two markers technique with a blender making gradient fade on one end, or you can mix colors inside the blender.

Fixing mistakes: blender will make a white show through your color, you can use it to get rid of the wrong color. But it doesn't work without some problems. Of course darker colors will likely stay, even if much lighter, and your previous color will try to flee ( likely to other sides, if you're lucky it will go on your underpaper)

That's all I have for you today. Experiment and learn something new. Hope that helps

#traditional art #art advice #tutorial #art tutorial #long post

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thedroneranger · 1 year

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Daggers on Draught: Open Bar 🍻

Daggers and your requested drink combos! Shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @sylviebell and @beyondthesefourwalls for inspiring Open Bar 🥂

The bar is CLOSED. Drink up the OG Daggers on Draught, Drinking Drabbles and Craft Edition.

Also follow @love-in-light as she crafts cocktails based on this series!

Amelia

• Cherry Limeade (na) | Cherry Crush

Bob

Coyote

Cyclone

• Brooklyn | Checkmate • Gin & Tonic | Everything is Blue • Sazerac | Night Moves • White Russian | Heart of a Cyclone

Fanboy

Hangman

Hondo

• Mojito | Minted

Iceman

• Bourbon | Puff, Puff, Pour • Vesper | GoldenEye • Belvedere | On Ice • Whiskey Sour | Old Friend

Maverick

• Boulevardier | Twice as Nice • Tom Collins | Old Time's Sake

Payback

• Midori Sour | Solo Session • Paper Plane | Wingman

Penny

• Bloody Mary | Hair of the Dog • Martini | Shaken Not Stirred • Mimosa | Sail Away

Phoenix

Rooster

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theoperativeif · 6 months

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Admiral Elia Short Story

Below is one of the first short stories I ever wrote for The Operative for my patreon. It is about an early event in Elia Anderson's career, at this time the Empreza was a small cruiser. Its namesake would years later be adopted by the Admiral's new flagship. I hope you lovely readers enjoy it. <3

Imperial Year 195, Deep in Commonwealth Space

The blue of the Farris Nebula glimmered through the bridge screens of the Jay-class light cruiser, the UEG Empreza, bathing the dark interior in its brilliance. Officers stood in rigid silence, the quiet, notable clicks from the sensor operator cutting through the silence. The young man slowly adjusted the computer's settings, the glow of the screen further lighting up his face.

He looked scared, Captain Anderson noted from behind him. She made a mental note to encourage growth in him. It had been thirty weeks since they had been dispatched into Commonwealth space, and they had nothing to show for it yet. Neither had the three other light cruisers. Elia couldn’t see them on the sensors but she knew they were there, just as she was, waiting.

Several hours after their trap was set, something appeared. A convoy, most likely from the nearby farming planet of Frumentum. Slowly, one after the other, the ships' unique signatures appeared. The front half of the signature denoted the ship class, followed by its version, and then the unique part of the signature, true only to this ship.

Click.

“Piranha-class escort destroyer number five,” the operator noted, another click indicating its distinct signature was recorded. “That brings the escort to a total of six ships.”

Elia frowned, leaning forward and tapping the display of the sixth ship. “What is that?” she asked. Her parents had drilled nearly every commonly used ship class signature into her, many late nights spent over authentic military data from her father’s time in command. This one, she didn’t recognize.

Click. Click. Click.

The young man looked over the database for several minutes before finally marking it as new. New class, new version, and new ship. But it didn’t matter; she would make sure to ruin this new prize.

“Let's name it target zero,” Elia said, her eyes slowly working their way over the initial scans of the ship as she pondered the ship's complement. “Weapons,” Elia said, glancing over at Weapons Officer Orlov, “get me a solution for the Mark Twos on that big whale in the back, regular sevens for our regular targets.” The doctrine under a pack ambush was very simple; being the farthest ship in the formation, they would take the back two targets, both of them hopefully being transports bringing in war materials.

“Captain.”

“Yes?” Elia looked back at the young man, who was frowning at the screen.

“The back transport, it’s different from the rest. Look at the signature right there.” Elia squinted at the long signature, noticing the gap, thin as a piece of paper but still there. “Modified civilian liner, most likely a converted troop transport,” Elia mused, gesturing to Orlov. “Get me another missile ready for that one.”

Elia waited patiently, her eyes admiring the interior of the Empreza. It was a dark, cramped space; consoles took up most of the room, with long boxes nearly extending all the way to the ceiling. Bright viewscreens were their only sight of what lay beyond the hull plating. Looking down at the young man seated below her, Elia finally addressed him by name.

“Mr. Hyatt, where did you learn your signatures?”

“Onboard the Giuliano, Ma’am.” He looked up at her nervously.

“Ah, Captain Ceres’ craft. A lot less cramped,” Elia said, giving the console the lightest kick to accentuate her point before noting his unease. “You did fine. Stay on those signatures and the sensors. It’s about to kick off.”

“Captain, solutions completed, rockets ready to fire,” Orlov said gruffly, turning a dial before looking to her.

Elia took a long breath, adjusting her uniform slightly before glancing down at the stopwatch clutched in her hand. Beyond old school, but she didn’t care; up on the view screen, a synced countdown was slowly dwindling lower and lower. When it reached zero, the pack would all fire off their rockets then withdraw. Each Jay-class was fast; they would elude any short-term pursuit, and no captain would be crazy enough to pursue a pack off into the darkness.

The countdown hit zero as Elia gestured to Orlov. “Fire.”

Silence followed as the sensors lit up, picking up their missiles launching into view, then more as the other members of their little hunting pack also fired. She watched as the blips soared off, inching closer and closer to the edge of range. At the farthest edge of their range, the convoy slowly plowed along.

Finally, one of the escort ships for the convoy spotted the missiles. The map lit up as streaks of light shot out onto the screen. Flak guns, decoys, and other countermeasures were all fired off, some forming long lines across the screen.

Two of them, a Piranha-class and the newer warship, turned to place themselves between the convoy and the missiles.

"That would cost them," Elia thought, watching as one of the Mark Two missiles was destroyed by hardpoint fire. "Damn."

Watching the second, Elia tensed as that one was also destroyed, but quickly breathed a sigh of relief as the smaller and more nimble Mark Seven missiles dodged around the ships, slamming into a regular freighter as well as the modified transport in the back. The two ships exploded, debris flying outward in all directions.

"Perfect hits," Elia thought as her bridge crew gave a quick cheer.

The extra missile she had launched was also shot down.

“Alright, set course for the rendezvous coordinates, full speed.”

The Empreza lurched as its engines roared to life, the ship making a speedy turn as three blips representing the rest of the pack also appeared, each making a similar move.

The two escorts that had been closest were still moving towards them but at vastly reduced speeds, obviously wary of unnoticed ships still waiting to destroy them. The Piranha-class veered off, leaving Target Zero slowly following before coming to a near stop.

They had hesitated, realizing it was fruitless; if they pursued, the pack would separate them and destroy them from ambush.

“Excellent job on those solutions, Orlov,” Elia said, the man bowing his head before looking over to young Mr. Hyatt.

“Good work, kid.”

The young man beamed with the praise as the Empreza made its escape towards a nearby planet’s ring. And like that, the combat had lasted only a few minutes, such was the way of the pack. It certainly wasn’t her style, but if it worked and kept them all alive, why not?

Planet 30349

Eight hours later…

“A job well done, Captain Ducote,” Elia congratulated the superior officer. He was a man many years her senior, who commanded The Iliad. Ducote was a strange man, one mired in the swamps of rumors and hyperbole. It was said that the only reason he was even out here was due to an encounter with a Governor's wife. Other stories suggested cowardliness. She was partial to the latter, as he had often ordered a withdrawal before combat even began.

“Yes, I suppose it is satisfactory. Three ships destroyed, my compliments to your crew, Anderson,” he said, nodding his head.

The pack was positioned just above the planet's ring; the Iliad had to conduct repairs on its missile launchers, which had been damaged while approaching the ring.

Captains Poulder of the Kulan and Reyes of the Gius were also present on the screen, both waiting to report their ships' status to Ducote.

While they were discussing, Elia excused herself, walking over to Mr. Hyatt with a coffee firmly in her hands. She took in the lovely smell of it before taking a sip. She relied on the stuff; it kept her awake through days of no sleep, and it also kept some of the hunger pains away. There was no time to eat during battle. Speaking of which, she wondered what the cook would whip up for her.

Dismissing the sensor operator, she called for the next shift to take the officer stations. She swayed slightly, her stomach and legs having a competition to see which one could cause her more pain. "Traitorous body parts," she thought, "I would remove them for mutiny." She laughed to herself, glancing over at the communications officer.

“Please have Mr. Elroy prepare me something. I haven’t eaten since...” She stopped herself, trying to remember when she last ate; the days ran together at this point. “Never mind, have him kindly send it to my quarters. Mr. Kelce, you have the bridge.”

Waiting for the confirmation, she turned and walked off the bridge, making her way through the maze of tight corridors to her cabin. Calmly retrieving her key, she opened the door.

Her cabin was not much bigger than the nearby officer rooms, the only exception being she didn’t have to share it with another officer from an opposite shift. She ducked into the doorway, closing and locking the door behind her. Her cabin had a small desk on the right with a computer and a chair, which took up the entire center floor. Her bunk was on the left with a small curtain separating the room in half that could be drawn.

Sighing, she pushed the chair back before sitting on the stiff bed, slowly pulling her boots off before setting them aside for a moment. Her feet objected as she stood up again, grabbing the chair and looking over her messages. Most were general updates from either the other captains in the pack or a general note from The Admiralty they had received when they last connected to a network outpost's signal. Then two messages caught her eye, one in particular making her burst into a wide smile.

But business first. She read over the lines slowly, frowning and then reading them over again.

“Warning for all pack commanders: Several packs destroyed along zones four and five. Use extreme caution if assigned to those zones.

Rachael Hernandez, Rear Admiral”

Fourth Fleet Command

They were in zone six, but right along the border with zone five. Surely Ducote and the others had seen this; she guessed that they had deemed it as not applying to them. Maybe the Commander sought to make a point to his superiors about his delicate position. Forwarding it to the Captains again, Elia finally got to the other message, this one far less formal.

“I think I found a house for us. It's back in the old district, just outside the Nikko Park. When you get back, I can arrange for us to go look at it. My ship should still be in dock when you return, so we will have lots of time together. Maybe go to that restaurant Muldoon is always raving about. I swear he somehow finds some of the best food around. But anyway, I am hoping every day for your safety, my love. I know you can take on the world at your leisure, but my heart can’t handle that every day. So please, be careful.

P.S. I tried some more of that special coffee you like; it still sucks.

Sincerely yours always,

J.R.”

Elia smiled, looking over at the picture on her desk. A thin woman dressed in a stark blue long coat stood with a smile on her face, her lips a brilliant red, and her hazel eyes filling the world with warmth. She would definitely look forward to some time for them soon. She leaned back in her chair until the headrest bumped the wall, closing her eyes, she imagined them walking the paths of the national park, the peace and quiet, the beauty, and more.

“Captain Anderson to the bridge.”

Elia shot from her seat, instantly turning to look at the time. She had dozed off, but it had only been thirty minutes. What could be happening? Putting on her boots before rushing out the door, she passed Mr. Elroy, the tray of food in his hand. She snatched the brand-new cup of coffee off his tray. “Sorry,” she muttered, not hearing his annoyed reply as she rushed to the bridge.

Entering, she quickly noticed the sensor operator was still where she had last seen him; she frowned, also noticing the Captains still all on the screen.

“Mr. Hyatt, you were supposed to be relieved.”

“Yes, Captain, but something was bugging me about that mystery ship, and Chief Mate Kelce said it would be ok.”

She cast a tired glance back towards the Chief Mate who gestured back to the young man. “Go on, what about it?”

The man paused, switching through several screens before freezing, his eyes planted on the screen.

“Well?”

Click. Click.

Elia froze at the familiar sound, quickly looking down. Beyond the debris that made up the ring, a single signal pinged in and out; the barest flicker of a signature made its way towards them, fast.

“Battle stations!” Elia called out, the lights inside quickly turning low and red as the crew rushed to their stations, an alarm blaring.

“Battle stations,” the other Captains echoed without question.

“Signature approaching, could be a transport,” Captain Ducote confirmed, also bent over his sensor operator’s console. “I'm arming missiles, fan out and have countermeasures ready.”

“What does the signature match?” Elia asked, looking at Mr. Hyatt.

“Captain, it's Target Zero. Closing fast, opposite the ring, then us.”

Elia was shocked, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead before looking over to the other Captains still on the screens. They had all been communicating actively; they would be lighting up like lights on that ship's sensors, but there shouldn’t have been a ship anywhere close to here, let alone one they left in the dust. This was all wrong.

“At least it won’t be able to fire until it's past the debris field, maybe we—” Reyes was silenced as his ship's alarms blared, as did the others, as a missile appeared from the debris field, heading straight towards Reyes.

In just a couple of seconds, Reyes's screen shook as his ship was tossed by the explosion, sparks flying up from a console near him. “Fire the moment the solution is locked! Damage report?”

“We took a hit between sections two and—” The screen winked out as suddenly Elia was nearly thrown from her standing position; the Empreza shook and groaned as debris slammed into it.

“Screens,” Elia ordered as the Captains all disappeared, replaced with a view of the carcass of the ship next to them.

Behind it, a large black mass, about two times the size of her ship, barreled through, and then at point-blank range fired an array of missiles and cannon fire into the pack. Elia noted four cannons on it as it passed. It screamed by the three remaining ships, its first barrage of missiles missing by mere feet.

“All weapons to local controls! Get us on that bastard's tail!”

Chaff shimmered in the view screens as well as decoy beacons launched from the ships. The Empreza chased behind Zero while the other two fanned out, their cannons slowly turning towards the ship. Elia watched as her gunners took experimental shots at the craft now barreling away from them.

“Helmsman, I want you to keep us behind him, missile control ready our Mark Twos.”

Elia started her watch as the missiles were prepared, the ship still speeding away from them. Seconds dragged to minutes as the ship quickly outpaced them with shocking speed. It was faster than them; as it neared the outer sensor range, it suddenly began to flicker before vanishing.

Silence blanketed the bridge in its false hope, as everyone stared at their screens, waiting for the return of the alarms. The red lights slowly flashed in the background, bathing Elia’s vision in a tinted form of hell.

“Well, Mr. Hyatt, kindly relay your original idea to me,” Elia said, crossing her arms.

“When we first recorded it, we were keeping constant contact with its signature, but when we engaged them, the signature changed. It was nearly unnoticeable, but our sensors caught it; for barely a second, our Target Zero was a match for an unknown cruiser spotted at the front lines.” He pointed to an after-action report by a heavy cruiser captain who had been engaged by a small but deadly opponent. The heavy cruiser drove it off but not before it had wiped out its destroyer escorts.

“Send that to Captain Ducote, and slow us down,” Elia said, looking uneasily at the screens. If we can break contact, we may be able to make a run for a jump point, she thought.

After a few more tense minutes, Captain Ducote’s face appeared on the screen, his face unreadable. “Anderson, you and Poulder cover the Iliad’s withdrawal. We are making our way to the jump site now; we will wait for you there.”

Elia tensed, waiting just a moment too long. “Yes, Sir.” The screen blinked out as the dot representing the Iliad began to turn, heading for the coordinates to the jump point to take them back to Imperial space. She looked over at the sensor console with a questioning look.

“Uh, I am not reading any damage from here, Captain,” the man replied, looking down.

Click.

It was back already; the dot representing Target Zero was barreling towards them, from out of nowhere, it just seemed to appear there.

“Cannons to local controls again, helm, bring us to an intercept course, weapons, I want solutions this time, Orlov.”

She pulled out her watch, eyes glued to the two dots on the screen now screaming towards each other.

They were both closing so fast that the cannons began firing just as the missile solutions gave the green light.

“Fire and adjust course, take us,” Elia paused, scanning through star charts, her finger settling on a portion of the planetary rings that held larger asteroids and debris. She selected it, watching as the helmsman adjusted the course before she even finished the order. “There.”

The ship shook again, the hull pinging as several shells skimmed off its armor. Then one hit, its fuse detonating so close to the hull that sparks flared outward.

Elia watched as two missiles soared out at the ship. It rolled slowly before making an evasive turn, its turrets trying to take down the missiles. Suddenly, a shot from the Empreza hit home, causing a small but noticeable detonation beneath the hull.

Both missiles, unfortunately, failed to score hits, but it had at least disrupted the ship's course.

At least one hit, then. She watched as Poulder's ship mirrored her ship's course; it soon loosed its own set of missiles which streamed past them. And like that, they were once again in a chase. Zero slowly made its wide turn to try and avoid the additional torpedoes.

Then one hit. Just behind where she assumed the bridge was, there was a large explosion on the screen. The bridge began to cheer, but Elia silenced them. It wasn’t over.

Click.

The dark shape emerged, damage to some of its plating evident, but still under its own power, and still barreling down on them.

“Time to the ring?”

“Thirty minutes.”

The chase to the ring was relatively calm, save for one exchange of missiles. The three ships maintained distance from one another as the ring slowly began to fill the view screen. Even though they had just been sitting above it earlier, it really was a marvel. Everything from debris to asteroids and even moonlets all spun and slowly moved along the enormous planetary ring. It also gave the two running ships time to coordinate; to her surprise, Poulder was receptive to her idea.

“Find me a larger asteroid, one that can fit our profiles.”

After a few seconds, an image of a large asteroid filled the screen. Time to arrival: ten minutes. “Fire off another missile, this time use a MIRV; that should get him to move.”

Elia watched as the missile sped off towards Zero. When it had closed the distance, the missile exploded outward, and eight separate warheads shot out. Target Zero banked hard, the ship barely dodging warheads as it fell further behind. Good.

“Poulder, are you going to be ready?” Elia asked.

“Yes, helm is ready.”

“Let's do it then. Commence maneuver.”

Poulder's ship banked upwards, climbing slightly above the debris. The Empreza, on the other hand, plunged straight past the enormous asteroid before diving hard. Holding onto the railing, Admiral Anderson felt uneasy. Which target would they pick? If they picked her ship…

She gritted her teeth, shaking off doubts; she would still win. Turning and gesturing to Orlov, she gave the orders, “Arm everything we have; if he comes around that corner, I want every goddamn missile to launch and every hardpoint to fire.”

Engines slowed as the Empreza was slowly turned around, facing back up at the empty void above them. Then they waited.

“Seal off nonessential compartments,” Elia said before staring at the dot representing Poulder's ship. It pinged, slowly but surely relaying the enemy's position; it was coming for her, fast.

“Captain,” Chief Kelce said, offering a mask and oxygen supply.

“Thank you,” she said, watching as each crew member donned a similar-looking apparatus. There would be no guarantees of air after this fight.

It took five minutes for the dot to reach where they had been before they began the maneuver.

“Fire!” Elia ordered, the crew responding as one. Missile after missile was let loose, soaring out into empty space. Just for a second, the dot almost seemed to stop, her heart skipping before seeing the black shape plunging over the edge and dipping downward, like falling from a waterfall.

She had them.

Missiles struck home, its turrets unable to react to them all in time. Metal glowed red-hot as explosion after explosion struck the ship, crumpling armor.

“Close and stick with her!” she ordered the Empreza, which flipped over with impressive speed, quickly laying into the side of the black ship. Shot after shot either skipped off like stones on a lake or erupted into tiny little pockets of light before vanishing.

The bridge rocked as return fire was received, warnings blared in deafening howls as the ship groaned and shuddered.

“Damage?” Elia asked, looking down at her own screen, red sections of her ship popping out as several sections were torn open to the cold embrace of space.

“We are venting, sealing off affected sections now,” came the response.

Growling, Elia glanced over at Poulder's position. His ship had circled around, firing off its guns from extreme range. It got closer and closer before letting loose everything it had. Timing was crucial; she had saved two missiles for this.

“Fire,” she said gravely, watching more and more sections of her ship glow red.

After a small delay, the missiles launched from close range, from completely different angles to Poulder’s missiles.

Elia watched as noticeably fewer hardpoints fired up at the new batch of missiles, maybe she had disabled some of them. The missiles struck, all of them. A colossal explosion cascaded throughout Target Zero before ripping the ship in two, sending half spinning off into the debris field.

The bridge bucked like a wild animal. If Elia’s boots hadn’t been planted, she would have been thrown into the air, though her legs shot spikes of pain through her.

Shrapnel shot through the bridge, tearing metal and flesh equally as Target Zero’s carcass delivered one last blow. Alarms went silent as the atmosphere vented, leaving Elia in silence.

She breathed slowly, not feeling any pain. She patted herself down before glancing around. Bodies hung like mannequins, blood pumping out in streams as their hearts fought a losing battle.

Some survivors fought to try and fix damaged oxygen masks, ultimately going still as they lost consciousness.

She didn’t look where the sensor operator, Mr. Hyatt, had just been sitting alive earlier, nor did she look at her weapons officer. Instead, she turned to the terrified helmsman as her comms sprung to life, connecting with those still alive on the bridge. “Take us to the jump point, make sure Poulder and the Kulan follow.” She slowly moved to her chair, finally sitting. For just a moment, her whole body roared, biting and stabbing her all over with pains she didn’t know possible, but she ignored them, silenced them to the best of her ability as she contacted engineering. “Report.”

“Best we can get from her is half power, Captain. We will have to limp there or else risk not being able to jump at all.”

“Acknowledged,” she replied, leaning back for a moment, her back racking her with pain.

The helmsman slowly but surely guided them out of the ring. The dot representing Poulder's ship slowly followed alongside them. Silence reigned for the remainder of the trip to the jump point. The bodies stayed exactly where they were, most sections of her ship had been isolated, pockets of loyal crew working in those confined spaces to keep the Empreza limping. Elia thought of Rounet, oh what she would trade to be out of this silent hell and in her arms.

It took them hours to reach the jump point. Ducote and the Iliad had not waited for them. Instead, the Kulan and Empreza, two wounded but very much alive ships of war, jumped into Imperial space and limped their way to safety. Elia quietly sat on the bridge, copying each and every sensor and comms recording from the ship's computer and storing it on a private drive before slipping the tiny disk into her pocket.

Her weariness and pain gave way to anger as she thought of the Iliad slipping away without a scratch. But Ducote’s cowardice was something she could use, something she would use. Her expression turned into a smile as she stared out into space. Yet another rung on the ladder to climb.

Several Months Later...

Captain Anderson stood quietly in front of the large screen in her living room, her eyes scanning the news slowly passing by before switching to a different channel and lowering the volume to almost a whisper.

“This just in, the Imperial Navy has released statements saying the body of Captain Ducote was found in his office this morning with a single gunshot wound to the head. This comes just days after recordings of a recent incident involving the Captain were leaked to the press. Authorities believe that—”

Elia shut off the screen, sipping a small cup of coffee as the bedroom door opened. Jeanne stepped into the room wearing her blue evening gown, earning an eager glance from Elia, who blushed as her wife noticed the look with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that on the news?” Jeanne asked, smiling warmly before hugging Elia and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Nothing,” Elia said, looking out the windows towards the twinkling night sky. She had plans for both of them, plans that no one would interfere with.

#if: the operative #the operative #the operative short story #writing #patreon short story #short story #interactive fiction #lore

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the-elevator-twins · 8 months

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(i) > Your ears ring from the sudden slamming of the door to your apartment. You forgotten how loud your supposed twin can be when angry.

> "Did you have to slam the door on those two? Was that necessary?"

> "Can't they take a hint to piss off?"

(i) > Your twin makes a point. Tomorrows a work day, an you're not in the mood to get drinks with your coworker. You still need this job. Moving your hands from your head, you continue.

> "As much as I don't like him, what did the other one do?"

> "Nothing, like always. He's utterly and completely useless. Oh, we also got a notice on the door."

> "Notice? Let me see--"

(i) > An envelope is thrown your way. Fumbling to catch it, you shot a glare at your twin before reading the contents of the paper. All it says is one thing on a piece of paper.

(?) > "Open Inbox?"

×+×+×

Hi there! This is an Elevator Hitch AU blog! I realized late I should have put a little about me, but I got overslept with the initial blog release. (I am so sorry about that-)

This AU was designed and crafted by yours truly, myself. The destination arrival of floor 8 and its usual course of action is altered. This leaves the originals and doppelgangers to fight and cause some 'malfunction'. The two protagonists in the elevator fight, only for a loud snap to cease the brawling, and before it's too late, they plummet to their demise.

However, upon impact, both original and doppelganger come out unscathed. There is only darkness that leads to a large door, a fire exit in the basement level of the company. Before the two can fight to run through, in the blink of an eye, they are greeted in their new apartment complex.

Not only that, but a wash of familial bond washes over the two. A feeling they have no choice but to share. Because here at this corporation, we treat everyone as a family. Despite the comforts of home, we dive into their plans of escape, and seemingly, there is only one way out.

Into the arms of their "coworkers," who visit each night to go out drinking. Although the invitation is warm, their eyes are menacing and plotting evil intent.

A couple of rules!

I. I do allow lil magic anons / rp interactions / story liners to follow. Keeps me motivated!

ii. Common courtesy with interactions on my blog, you know what to ask and what to not ask. Suggestive is fine!

iii. I'm sure everyone is aware of Elevator Hitch when viewing my blog. Still, I will implore you that this blog has heavy themes such as gore, implied abuse, and, of course, death. This is the first and final warning.

iv. Obviously, I will try to mix in both canon and headcanon elements. Believe me, I'm not the best at it, but I try to stick to the main storyline as possible! Case in point: Protag and Antag have never learned of Normal Guy, sacrificing the rat, etc, beyond the room 8 puzzle.

v. Mun is an adult, I prefer to keep in my age group, on the rare occasion: engage with those 17-18. Nothing against minors, just keeping ya'll safe distance 👌 If you have questions about my AU, or would like to know a little more about me, my 'main' account is @justmandika. Sometimes I draw, or sometimes I bully good friends.

That's about it then! I hope you enjoy your stay here! Mod Mandika out!

×+×+×

#the-elevator-twins #// ✂️ protag: replies #// ✂️ antag: replies #elevator hitch #elevator hitch protag #elevator hitch game #// oOoOoOo sibling au!!!

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toast-writes · 1 year

Text

Struck By Cupid's Arrow (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Description: It's Valentine's Day (or close to it, at least), and you're trying to come up with the perfect gift for Daryl. Gender isn't specified, no use of (Y/N). [Also I wrote this in February, and haven't wrote in awhile. I apologize if this is kinda bleh, but I figured it was decent enough to post here lololol]

Words: 1,280

Warnings: nothing but sappy good times

You sat at the small, cluttered desk in your bedroom, peering out the window as you watch the trees sway with the bitingly cold wind; the branches and ground below were covered in a blanket of snow. You thought maybe if you watched nature do its thing, you'd find that groundbreaking inspiration for the project you were working on, because Valentine's Day was rearing it's soft, rosey face right around the corner, and you had no clue what to give your boyfriend.

Balls of paper were crumpled at your feet, each one containing a sappy poem scribbled inside. Your hand lay still on the paper with a pen gently nestled between your index and thumb.

"Why is this so hard?! I jus- aw, biscuits!" The pen had left an inky puddle onto the paper. You sigh, wadding it up and tossing it behind with the others. Everything had to be perfect. This was your first Valentine's Day as a real couple, and you'd be damned if things weren't gonna go as planned.

"You know what," you speak to yourself, pulling out a pair of scissors and red construction paper, "I'll just make a card." You always thought you were at least halfway decent with the whole "arts-and-crafts" thing, so why not put your skills to the test and just craft something together.

After a another few failed attempts, you look at the little arrow-pierced heart with a slight sense of pride. It looked (almost) like a card you'd find at the store! The hard part is coming up with something on the inside.

You chew absentmindedly on the end of your pen as you ponder over good one-liners, then it hit you. A smile stretches across your face as the ink flows gracefully against the paper.

'Cupid, you've struck me with your arrow ♡' '

It was cheesey, sure, but the sentiment and meaning was still there.

Your heart gives a giddy leap as you think about giving it to Daryl. Even before, this time of year always brought joy to you. You loved nothing more than to, well, love. Whether it was family or friends, but this time? You had someone to call yours, someone to share a romantic love with, and that brought even more happiness to you.

The plan was for Daryl to stop by in the evening, and the two of you would exchange gifts then. You had annoyed Daryl about it all week.

"Hey, don't forget we've got Valentine's plans in a few days!"

"How could I forget when ya've been talkin' my ear off about it every damn near day."

Right on schedule, there was a gentle rapping at the door, and you practically flung your self down the stairs with your hand-made gift behind your back. You opened the door with an excited, "Hi!!" and invited the man in, giving him a quick peck to the lips.

Candles dimly lit the living room, their sweet, alluring aroma filled the air. You really did put in some thought to this, wanting every second to be magical. Daryl was not one to "celebrate" this kind of holiday, unlike you. He never really saw himself as romantic, or loving for that matter. He didn't understand the whole concept of a day revolving around chocolates and flowers, or couples being ext-

"Do you want a glass of wine?"

That piqued his interest. He follows you over to the couch as you tried your best to keep the card hidden from sight before "discreetly" setting it on the end table under a book, and take a seat.

The cork releases from the bottle with a loud 'pop!' and you fill both glasses about halfway.

"I would've made a spaghetti dinner to go along, but I don't have spaghetti." You tell him, a small frown etched on your face.

"S'alright," he replies, reaching for the wine and taking a gulp, "you've done plenty." His words were sincere and you could just melt with the love you felt for him.

"Mm-" he let out a noise of acknowledgement with another mouth full, "almos' forgot." He pulls out a silvery chain and gestures for you to turn around.

"I thought you said you weren't gonna forget," You taunted, a playful smirk playing at your lips.

"Shut up an' close yer eyes."

The cool metal nips at your neck, contradicting the warmth of Daryl's fingers. That familiar fluttery feeling worms its way into your chest again as you grow more and more eager to see what laid so delicately at your chest.

Daryl grunts, signaling you to open your eyes, and you let out a happy little gasp. The most beautiful, dainty moonstone necklace wrapped with wire in the shape of the tree of life sat so sweetly against your skin, glimmering in the candle light.

"Found it in one o'them gift shops up the way. Reminded me of ya."

You turn back to the archer, engulfing him in a hug. He tenses a bit at your touch, but just as quick melts into your arms, hugging you back.

"This is so sweet of you! And all I did was make you a-"

You pull away, a wave of embarrassment coating your cheeks with a warm kiss.

"What'd'ja make me?" He pushes, curiosity lacing his voice.

'Oh, god. He's not gonna like my gift. He got me a gem and I made a dinky little card.'

"Um," you start, averting your gaze, "I don't wanna exchange gifts anymore."

You go to stand up, but quickly get pulled back down by your wrist.

"Ya did not talk m' damn ear off abou' this holiday fer days jus' to chicken out at th' las' second."

The two of you stare into each other's eyes at a stalemate.

"I ain't leavin' without no gift." He finalized, leaning back into the couch with his foot resting over his knee.

'Crap.'

You reach behind you, carefully holding your little card in both hands and shyly hand it to him, "don't laugh."

His brow creases as he takes the gift into his hold, looking over every detail and snip you made before opening it.

You palms grow clammy as you watch his eyes flick over the words inside, and his mouth noticeably twitches.

'Fuck, he's gonna laugh at me he thinks it's stupid.'

"I love this." He admitted, a gentle half-smile danced on his face.

'Oh?'

"You, uh- you do?"

He nods, "yeah." His chest swarms with tender love as he reads over it one more time. Not many people have done what you did to express their love or appreciation for him. The fact it was all hand-made, and the time it must've taken to set everything up helped him come to the realization that he is loved.

Daryl may still not totally get the hype for this holiday, but after everything you do for him, he does understand what it's like to be struck by cupid's arrow.

#fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #twd #twd x you #twd x reader #the walking dead #beginner writer #writeblr #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff

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jubi-draws · 2 years

Photo

Some false gods.

Did these back in July. Thinking of making another pass and attempt some better portraits of them.

Materials: Bristol Paper Ohuhu Alcohol Markers Micron Liners Prismacolor Pencil Metallic craft paint Old watercolors

#almalexia #sotha sil #vivec #almsivi #morrowind #tes #elder scrolls #the elder scrolls #traditional art #art #skyrim #jubi: fanart #jubi: TES

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strangelypenned · 1 year

Text

Hello All! I figured since ao3 is down I’d post the first chapter of my fic Heavy Metal Healing here for those looking for something to read! I hope this helps you get by in the drought. If you enjoy this check me out on ao3 under the same username. The next three chapters are up there whenever the site comes back online. Enjoy! 💜

Summary:

When rockstar Eddie Munson and the battle-scarred Steve Harrington collide their journey begins with pain, but quickly turns into something extraordinary. As Eddie embraces his dominant side and Steve explores submission, their connection becomes a steamy oasis of healing and love. Amid pleasure and pain, they rewrite their stories in a harmonious and unconventional embrace. And let's not forget the party and Robin, who never miss a chance to tease them along the way! It's a provocative tale where hurt transforms into hope, and two hearts find solace in the most unexpected places. Get ready to feel the heat!

Chapter 1:

There were a thousand other ways Steve could be spending his Friday night. He had two papers due within the next week, a birthday party to plan, and a doctor’s appointment he was dreading. Yet here he was, allowing Robin to repeatedly stab him in the eye with an eyeliner pencil. Eyeliner he really didn’t even want to be wearing. Going to a show he was about 75% sure he wasn’t going to enjoy.

“Quit blinking Dingus. Unless you want to lose an eye." Robin barked as she jabbed the flat end of the pencil into his ribs.

"I'm only blinking 'cause you're stabbing me in the eye with a sharp object. Also, how much longer is this going to take? If we want to get to Indi on time we need to leave in like 15 minutes." He glanced at the clock over her shoulder. They had been playing dress-up for over an hour and a half now, and the venue was roughly that far away. If they didn't leave soon they'd likely miss the show altogether.

"Fine. Fuck, we'll just call this good then. I got what I wanted mostly done anyways. " She was franticly throwing stuff in her small makeup bag, finally releasing the iron grip she had on his chin. Standing on sleep numb legs Steve took a look at himself in the mirror.

He almost didn't recognize the person looking back at him, Robin had outdone herself. He was wearing her clothes for the most part. A pair of black jeans that fit a little too tight. He remembers watching her cut the holes into them a few weeks ago in a bored crafting fit. A faded black t-shirt that fit a little bit snugly around the biceps. A large golden sun painted across his chest. It matched the yellow polish on his nails, painted by a smiling Jane earlier that week.

What stood out the most though were his eyes. The dark liner drawing attention to the warm hazel. She had even done his hair, It floated around his head softly, looking fluffier than normal. Yes, Robin had certainly outdone herself.

"How do you feel? I didn't overdo it did I? I know it's different than what you usually wear, but you went on that tangent the other day about wanting to change your look. And I know you don't want to touch your move-out savings to do so so I thou-" He caught her eye in the mirror.

Turning he placed his hands on her shoulders, her outfit was a reflection of his. The differences were the denim vest she had covered in pins and patches, and her shirt being actual merchandise for the bad they were seeing. A large 'CC' was pained across her chest above a flaming coffin.

"Robs I love it. You did a great job. It's definitely different, but I wanted that. Now can we please get out f here before we miss the show?" She nodded her head enthusiastically as he tied his favorite yellow sweater around his waist.

"Normally I would harass you about bringing the comfort sweater, but It kind of works. That, and I know I'm pushing you pretty hard already taking you to a metal show and all." She threw the words over her shoulder as they trudged down the stars. Making sure to stand closer to his good ear.

" Well, you've been talking about this group nonstop for like three months now. So I might as well give them a chance. Plus the volume may ring through my thick skull a bit better." His doctor had mentioned something about music with heavier tones being easier to enjoy. Something to do with the base and the vibrations. It was one of the few reasons, other than making Robin smile, he agreed to go. Smiles didn't come as easily after their final round with the upside down.

"I really think you'll enjoy yourself if you give it a chance Steve. She gave him a knowing look as she buckled herself in. Probably picking up on his thoughts with that freaky telephony thing they seemed to have ever since the Russians.

"I promise I'll give it a chance Robbs. God knows I could use some fun," he mumbled the last part as he backed out of the driveway. She laughed at his words as they coasted up the street, hopefully heading for a much-needed night of fun.

🎸

According to Robin's hour-and-a-half-long lecture about the band, they were extremely lucky to be seeing them at this venue. Normally they played for significantly larger crowds, but this is where they had done one of their first shows. They tended to perform here whenever they were in town for nostalgia's sake. It being such a small place meant tickets were normally gone in a flash. Robin, the lucky bird, had won some radio contest. So not only did they get to go to a sold-out show, they got to go to a sound check and a meet and greet post-show. Truly the pinnacle of luck.

He was glad they would be arriving early. This would allow him the chance to survey his surroundings before the crowd set in. His nerves being shot ever since the final battle, as the kids had started calling it. Either way, being able to spot all of the exits before the show started and the people packed in helped. He felt some of the ever-present tension in his body abate at the thought.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by Robin who was all but skipping in excitement. It was nice to see her so amped up. Her excitement tugged at the corners of his lips, and he caught himself chuckling as they grew closer to the venue. The place was a converted bowling alley that still had a few lanes for guests to use before and after shows.

"Did I tell you we even get two free drinks? The royal treatment I tell ya. Must remind you of the good ole days." alluding to the high school nickname he grew to detest with time. She knew better than to actually call him it though. Something about it rattled his heart in the most unpleasant of ways.

"You didn't mention the drinks bird brain. Here I thought I'd be shelling out for overpriced beers. " She gave him a dead look over her shoulder. Both of them knew that he hated the taste of beer and mostly drank it for appearances in school.

They stood in line behind a handful of people, a select few also had early entry tickets. They were snapping bright red bracelets on the wrists of those with VIP entry.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, they were standing in front of a long bar. Robin was shoving a brightly colored cocktail into his hands. He had checked out again. A gift left behind from his fourth concussion. He looked at Robin with a questioning frown.

"It was about ten minutes this time." She rattled off looking at the watch she had taken to wearing when the checkouts had started. That was shorter than the last one so at least there was that. He had grounding tips for when he was at home or driving, but they tended not to work when out and about.

He nodded sluggishly and began to look at his surroundings. Ten or so people were floating around the space while a few people tinkered with equipment on stage. There were doors that led to what appeared to be a balcony, probably a smokers section. The bowling lanes glowed in various neon shades of pink, blue, and purple. They weren't in use but still shined brightly to the left of the stage. And there was the exit, perfect. He felt the slight tremble in his hands ease up when he located the doors.

"Hey Robs I'm gonna go take a quick smoke break and I'll be right back okay?" She looked at him with a question in her eyes, 'Do you need me to come?" He shook his head softly and gave a tired smile before heading for the balcony. He had quit smoking for a while at one point. But after the final showdown, late at night when the sounds of the upside down were loudest in his mind's eye, he found relief in the smoke.

As he stepped outside he noticed the air had picked up a slight chill. He set his drink down and quickly tugged his yellow sweater overhead. The worn fabric brought a level of comfort he rarely found in his closet these days.

Tugging his cigarettes out of his pocket and placing one between his lips, he came to the abrupt realization he had left his lighter in the car. He let out a quiet 'fuck'.

"You need a light?" A melodic voice asked from off to the side of him. He felt himself flinch, he hadn't noticed anyone else outside.

The link since ao3 is now back online:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48088879

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #fanfiction #fanfic #rockstar eddie munson #steve x eddie #soft steve harrington #eddie stranger things #read on ao3 #not beta read

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acaseforpencils · 1 year

Text

Dan Misdea.

Editor's Note: Be sure to check out Dan's new children's book, The Light Inside, available this week!

Bio: I've been contributing cartoons to The New Yorker since 2021. My work has also appeared in Air Mail, Narrative, The Times, Weekly Humorist, The Golfer's Journal, and a few other publications. My first children's book, The Light Inside, is available now.

Find this print here!

Tools of choice: I brainstorm ideas on printer paper with a .38 Uni-ball Signo RT and sketch the roughs I submit to The New Yorker on my iPad.

For now, my finishes go on Bristol vellum (Canson) with graphic liners (Rotring), oil-based colored pencils (Lyra), and various blenders. Occasionally, I'll use a solvent to blend and fill larger areas, or an ink wash if the drawing calls for it. I used to finish all of my cartoons digitally, so there has been some trial and error in finding the right tools.

There’s no specific reason why I switched to traditional tools. It sounds corny, but it was just something I felt the urge to explore. I feel a stronger connection to my work now, and the creative process is way more enjoyable for me.

All materials are subject to change at any moment.

Tools I wish I could use better: My golf clubs.

Tricks: Allow yourself to experiment and remember to have fun.

Tools I wish existed: A magic tool that could scan my work and edit it to perfection all at once.

Misc: If you’re an aspiring cartoonist, I would suggest reading A LOT of cartoons. Try to notice how the pros compose their drawings and craft their captions. You’ll eventually gravitate towards certain styles and voices, and I think that will help shape your own values as a cartoonist.

Links:

Website: https://danmisdea.com

Instagram: @dan_misdea

The Light Inside: Buy my children's book, The Light Inside, here

Curated Cartoons: Buy my original cartoons here

-----

If you enjoy this blog, and would like to contribute to labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon, and if you’d like to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi account as well! I do this blog for free because accessible arts education is important to me, and your support helps a lot! You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

#artists on tumblr #art supplies #dan misdea new yorker #dan misdea cartoonist #dan misdea

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hey-august · 6 months

Note

🍓🎲🪐

Woo, tyyyy!

🍓⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I wrote about it in this response. One-liner for here - I needed to take some of the words out of my head and figured other people might want to hear them.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

A terrible sleep schedule and ADHD. 🥲 On a more introspective note, perfectionism and comparing myself to others. I'm trying to flip my approach to those feelings from being afraid to write to motivation to keep growing.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

1. The work trip I went on was actually very fun. I socialized, ate good food, and the one event I planned went off without a hitch. 2. I'm going to a Fall Out Boy concert very very soon. 3. I feel some hobbies coming out of hibernation and I am excited. We'll see if baking or some sort of paper-craft kick in first.

This ask game + my ask game responses

#hey-august ask game response

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lcatala · 1 year

Text

A Review Of Nimona

Despite some reservations, I really liked Nimona.

I open with the conclusion because this review starts off quite pessimistic and is rather long, so that way those of you who won't make it to the end will not leave with the false impression that I didn't like Nimona; I really much did.

I have a complicated relationship with 3D animation.

Well no, actually, it's a pretty simple relationship: I hate almost all of it.

It's not that there's any reason why 3D animation cannot be good in the abstract. I'm not a medium snob; you can tell good stories in live action, in 2D animation, in 3D animation, in stop-motion, with hand puppets, with shadow puppets, with paper cutouts ; in theory, it absolutely doesn't matter.

Except, in practice, most 3D animated films range from mediocre and forgetable to actively repulsive.

Visually, they almost all look the same, to the point that it's really hard to distinguish studio styles at all (without looking it up, between Coco and Encanto, which is Pixar and which is Disney?) Storywise, it's all very pain-by-numbers, hero's-journey crap with little deviation. But what gets those from merely nondescript to actively annoying is the tone. So so many of these movies revolve around "hype" and "cool" teenagers who constantly strike poses, raise their eyebrows, and talk in one-liners. Everything is manic and noisy, there's not a single moment to breathe, because if nothing stimulating happens on screen for more than three seconds, surely the audience will stop watching, so there's always someone gesticulating, dancing, singing, making faces, or all four at once. And everything has to be crammed with pop culture references and topical allusions so that the audience can relate.

Don't get me wrong, it's good to have media you can relate to, media that speak of modern problems and adress a modern audience in its own terms. But there has to be less insultingly condescending ways of doing it than shouting "HELLO FELLOW KIDS" over and over for 90 minutes.

Let's be clear: this isn't happening because the people involved are not competent or because the budgets are too tight. Very talented people work hard (routinely to the point of exploitation in fact) on these movies, and they actually get quite strong budgets reflecting the benefits they're expected to make.

And that's the actual problem: there's too much financial stake in 3D animated films, too many producers and shareholders breathing down the neck of everyone else, too many committees trying to craft the perfect crowd-pleaser, too many rewrites and re-rewrites, too much fear of failling to capture the children-and-teenager audience and losing hundreds of millions. So everything must be made to appeal to the widest, shallowest base as possible, and every second of screentime must be an attention-grabber that leaves absolutely no chance of anyone getting bored.

Mirroring this, there's no reason for 2D animated and stop-motion movies to be inherently better than 3D ones. They are so in practice because big studios see them as uncool and no longer profitable, which means that the only people who still make these kinds of movies have to actually deeply care about them and go in with the full awareness that their next project might well be a commercial flop that will set them back for a decade on the project after that or might even end their career.

So when it was announced that Nimona, a webcomic I had really liked for its quirky, original, both humorous and dark tone, was going to be adapted by Blue Sky Studios, who had afflicted the world with not one, not two, not three, but five Ice Age movies, well, I was not happy at all, because that seemed like worst possible match. It was hard to imagine them doing anything other than remove anything remotely interesting about the story and turn it into a generic seizure-inducing mess with poop jokes because that's all that they do with their movies.

I feel bad about it retrospectively, but my first instinct when I heard that the movie was cancelled was to rejoice that we had been spared from what would certainly have been a complete disaster and a terrible insult to the original comic. And the revival of the project, while it was always a positive for the actual people involved, left me largely indifferent.

Who would I have had instead to adapt this into a movie? Why, Cartoon Saloon of course! A fantasy story about a free-spirited, hyper-active, shapeshifting red-headed girl and the friendship she seeks with another outcast character, leading to a fight against the instutions of law and order that turn out to be corrupt and evil? Why, they would have loved making that movie.

Except they did make that movie. What I'm describing is not just the premise of Nimona; it's also that of Wolfwalkers, the absolutely amazing 2D animated film that Cartoon Saloon released in 2020, as the third part of their "Irish Folklore Trilogy" (following The Secret of Kells and Song of the Sea).

Ok fine then, if Wolfwalkers already exists, it would be redundant for Cartoon Saloon to make it again, so I guess Nimona can be in its own thing; if it doesn't work out, I'll just rewatch Wolfwalkers.

Then I saw that ND Stevenson, the author of the original comic, was actually really enthusiastic about the project — which in itself isn't a definite proof, many times has a creator be enthusiastic about an upcoming adaptation of their work only to get burned when the actual thing came out, but at least it was a positive sign. Maybe I was going to give this movie a chance.

Then the movie came out, and I saw a lot of positive reviews from people who I trusted not to be easily swayed by any old crappy animated film just because it had some queer representation. Ok, ok, fine, y'all win, I'll watch it.

So I watched it and… I actually had quite a really good time.

I liked that there actually was a conscious stylistic choice in the animation, this sort of 3D-2D hybrid technique, like very-advanced-cel-shading seems like it's a lot more flexible when it comes to actually give an animated movie a distinct, signature style — and it blends in a lot better than pure 3D, as seen on how Ghibli has used those techniques for complex individual shots since Princess Mononoke in 1997 — a movie mostly made in 2D traditional animation, but that has a number of digitally made shots seamlessly incorporated using those 3D-painted-over-to-look-like-2D techniques. By the way if you like Princess Mononoke, you should also watch Wolfwalkers, it has a number of similar vibes!

I liked the humor! For the most part, it worked, and some jokes were actually pretty clever in their absurdity, like having Nimona pull out a polaroid picture she's somehow taken a few minutes ago just for the sake of a visual gag, even tho we've already established that this is a futuristic fantasy setting (which is also a thing I like, the worldbuilding was pretty cool) where everyone has smart phones (but it also works as a subtle early hint that Nimona is much, much older than she seems).

I liked that queer representation was front but not center: several main characters are openly, explicitely queer, but this isn't a plot point, this isn't something that they have to defend or call attention to. It's just a normal character trait, and the problems, drama and obstacles these characters face do not stem from them being queer.

I liked the story, the themes it went for and how it executed them, twisting traditional feudal fantasy and hero's-journey tropes but without being heavy handed and obnoxious about it, showing that you can play with a genre and pick apart its problematic implications without being a scatological edgelord about it (yes I loathe the Shrek franchise, why do you ask?)

It still has some of the things that make me strongly dislike modern 3D movies, but it's contained. It's here and there, but not to the point of ruining the story. Yes Nimona is an out-of-control nuclear-powered goblin, but the movie actually goes into why she is like that, and suddenly it's a lot more interesting to have a character be manic and constantly at 11 because she has a lot of pent up anger and insecurities about being alone than just because that's a quirky character trait to throw in randomly; and the movie does manage to have a few quiet and reflexive moments, and those matter a lot in the story.

I am of two minds about its qualities as an adaptation. On the one hand, even if this is a very different story from the original, the themes are there, the spirit of the original story is there; different media have different strength and what would work in comic format wouldn't necessarily work in an animated movie. Having the movie tells its own story makes it less redundant compared to the comic, more complimentary — you can know the one by heart and still get surprised and awed by discovery when you get to the other. And updating the material can be good; people always complain about Disney's track record of sanitizing fairy tales, but I can assure you that you don't want to see a faithful adaptation of Sleeping Beauty on screen. In general, an adaptation making significant changes to the story isn't a deal breaker for me, some of my favorite movies massively depart from their source material, usually for the better.

On the other hand, it seems to be almost a constant with animated adaptations that the source story is going to get discarded. It gives the feeling once again that the people involved in making these adaptations do not take the medium seriously and cannot imagine that these stories could stand on their own without needing heavy rewriting, that they can't see them as deserving a faithful adaptation. I understand why a lot of these changes happened for Nimona, but I still regret some of the stuff from the comic. Like yeah, it's very clever that in this version, Nimona has essentially no origin story and actively refuses to talk about how she came to be, but then we miss out on this absolute wham moment from the comic, Ballister telling her "Nimona, you forgot your own backstory!"

So in the end, I have to take the movie for what it is, rather than look too closely as what it is an adaptation of. Those are two different takes and stories on the same characters and themes, both with their strong points, and I think I can live with that.

So in the end, I had a pretty good time. It had some small issues, it's probably not the best version possible of that story, but it's still far, far better than anything I was expecting. I you loved it, I do still recommend checking out Wolfwalkers as soon as possible if you haven't already, you might well love that one too.

#nimona #nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nd stevenson #movie review #old person yells at cloud vibes #a nimona review but actually it's propaganda for wolfwalkers #no but I actually liked it I swear #wolfwalkers #3d animation #2d animation #rant

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sandsorghum · 2 years

Text

Hollywood AU

With Oscars round the corner I wanted to explore a Movie Industry 'verse, featuring Screenplay writer Nanamin x Starlet Reader, with some messy Director Geto x Reader thrown into the mix cuz it's HOllywood so why not.

I don't have things fully fleshed out, this is only a drabble. It's just a fun little plot bunny I'm considering chasing down the rabbithole, so if you enjoy it, please leave some feedback! Thanks~

Nanami toes the line he's sketched in the sand - and you keep scuffing it. Because it is sand, not cement, as much as Nanami would like to believe that. The grains keep trickling through the hourglass, and his throat gets ever more parched around you.

He used to be able to call you to the side of a sound stage in between takes to murmur his corrections. Now he just scratches them out on a clipboard, cursing PAs and sticky notes that aren't at all adhesive.

"I miss you."

Glue floods his throat. Nanami glances at your reflection, eclipsed by a bevy of stylists coiling your locks into perfectly tight, period-accurate ringlets.

"Bunkering down in that cramped trailer, discussing stories. Have you seen Sangsoo's latest by the way?"

You catch sight of him in the mirror and smile, but someone tuts at you to "stay still". Nanami watches your lips go taut as the gloss swipes over, but he knows where to look. Sure enough, there's a matching shimmer in your gaze, locked in on his. Nanami swallows, his eyes dropping to the papers in his lap.

"Been too busy," he grunts.

"Right Now, Wrong Then remains my fav, but you should make your own assessment. I wouldn't mind seeing his new film twice. Maybe over the weekend, we could-"

"I'll be holed up with the rewrites. Studio's orders. I'm leaving your new lines here."

Nanami doesn't so much hear you sigh, as glimpse a small corner of the glass getting fogged up. He feels your stare slide from the rear view to his retreating silhouette as he turns and walks away from your pout, from the memory of a puff of air tickling his mouth.

Every day you seem more like a mirage, less an oasis.

But these are the desert dunes he's chosen to trek through, grounds ever shifting.

Framed by ink strands, jet stone irises cut across steepled ivory hands, with a gleam that renders the lamination of the page redundant.

[And would you like to address the rumours-?]

[Talent's drawn to talent. That's all.]

[The final say?]

[Your next soundbite - until another distraction from our craft comes along.]

The black and white portrait rustles, a splotch of darkness seeps over those eyes, coloured grey as the super-sized quote [DRAWN TO TALENT] is imprinted across the ravines of cheekbones and deep recesses of sockets, now thinned with text.

He's well aware of your history with Geto, the inaccuracies of the accounts on both sides, the way the two of you are the darlings of the gossip columns, as cyclical as the seasons and heroin chic coming back in vogue, appalling as it is.

"How's the fluff piece for our auteur extraordinaire? He opt for self-flagellating or self-fellating?"

So, trouble in paradise then, Nanami thinks.

He shrugs. "The box office'll be happy."

"Oh, hooraay. Praise be for the ultimate - nay, the only metric and arbiter of art."

"Nay?"

His tone is withering, but not enough to stop your belligerence from sprouting. Or spouting.

"Hey. Do you think I got where I am based on sheer luck, or looks?"

You're a few too many whiskey neats in.

"Clearly they weren't stumbling blocks," he says drily, gesturing for his refill. Normally you'd find his diplomacy coy. Now it's just tiresome.

"I expected more than this calibre of flattery from a BAFTA nominee," you sneer, fingers creeping along Nanami's taut wrist. He steadies his grip around his bourbon.

"I'm off the clock. You'll have to get your one-liners elsewhere. Union rules."

You lean in, the cloud of alcohol and your perfume shrouding Nanami.

"Such a stickler," you whisper, the taunt gusting warm and wet against his lips. Through the fog, just barely, Nanami telescopes in on the gleam of your maraschino-red mouth, the gimlet glint of your eyes.

Not chandeliers, but stalactites, the notion coalesces somehow, despite your distractions. Nanami's brain churns, scrambling for a deflective quip, only to short-circuit when he feels your other hand land on his thigh.

"You know, in these scenarios, the rulebook gets thrown out - if one even exists in the first place."

A rough palm clasps your hand, but your forehead brushes Nanami's.

"My point is, I don't give up. I always get what I want."

"Assuming you know what that is."

You freeze.

It's better this way, Nanami thinks, watching the shards twist in your eyes. There is still barely an inch between you and him, close enough for him to feel the breath and consequences you hold in the quiver of your lips. At arm's length, and a lifetime away.

At least like this, he has a front row seat to the fracturing story.

He was never meant to be the protagonist, let alone a hero.

"Are you really coming after me, or are you just trying to get away from Suguru?"

#nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sandsorghum

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