#deluge starter

[dreadseadreams]

gen tag drop

[jamminsalmonjunction]

"Tch... never was a fan of the mess caused by the Runs," a Salmonid mutters, perched on a rocky outcrop overlooking the fighting. His Steel Eel contraption sits deactivated next to him, a panel flipped open to reveal internals. It's an awkward spot to perform repairs, so close to a battlefield.

Wanderlust isn't one to die for the sake of honor, unlike so many other of his kind.

But since he's so preoccupied with maintenance, and also with the horns and cacophony from the ruins below, it's not very hard to sneak up on him.

[hellyeahscarleteen]

Some Important Help Resources for Those in the United States

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Rebel Well: A Starter Guide to a Trumped America

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Abortion and Digital Privacy: How to Protect Ourselves

Self-care Amidst a Deluge of Anti-trans Legislation

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[theharellan]

“You cannot alter your fate. However, you can rise to meet it.” from Mythal

PRINCESS MONONOKE starters | accepting

He remembers, once, watching rain upon a sheer cliff face. He remembers how bare rock shone beneath the insistent shower; how the water, which splashed harmlessly upon the crowns of the creatures below, sculpted the rock. He watched over the years as it changed the shape of the cliffside, hollowing caves for earth's creatures to shelter from the deluge. He had reveled in the discovery, and felt his old name strengthen within him.

Now, he wonders at the soft violence of rainfall, and if the tears that stain his cheeks carve his skin as they did the stone.

Mythal's voice is softer, still, and he cants his chin up to look at her.

Rise.

The word stirs something in him, as the last vestiges of his name are washed away by his grief. Though he finds his legs beneath him, dragging himself up from the altar he had built at her feet, he does not stand tall beside her.

No longer Wisdom, but not yet Pride.

"The tyranny of choice," he says, voice breaking over his words. "Whether I will it or no, I am bound to it. Very well-

"Direct me."

@mercysought

[complexsaviour]

Milgram Eeo Store Collab Art Analysis Part 1/4: Haruka, Muu and Shidou

I wrote down some thoughts I had about this recent collab art produced for some new merch. I guess the content drought must be hitting me hard. This is part 1, but I aim to cover all of the characters.

All the prisoners depicted with open umbrellas in this collab artwork were forgiven in Trial 1 — and thus they were protected from the deluge of negative influence from the audience, given the chance draw comfort from Milgram's decision (said comfort here represented by umbrellas). But not all of the forgiven prisoners accepted their verdicts — some rejected them.

Haruka, Muu and Shidou are similarly depicted in this collab in that all three of them both have and are using open umbrellas, uniquely compared to the other prisoners. The forgiven prisoners who are using their umbrellas (Haruka, Muu and Shidou) are the ones who were most accepting of their verdicts — who went along with the result of their votes and were (seemingly) influenced positively by them.

Edit: I also think it's worth noting Haruka's conspicuous Muu colour adjacent shoes. They're a cute fashion choice, for starters, but I also wonder if they represent her powerful influence on him...

[accipio]

The trouble with this city, aside from the disconcertingly tall buildings and the mechanical contraptions crowding the streets, is that it's too Void-damned hot. Just his luck to be abducted in the middle of summer. If this place even has summer, that is—perhaps it's like this year round. Now there's a disturbing thought.

He's beginning to understand why most other mages choose to walk around wearing robes instead of armor. Less protection, sure, but you're far less likely to bake to death if you've got to rough it out in the sun. Or, say, navigate a foreign city on foot. Without a map. Or the faintest bloody idea where you're going. He's drenched in sweat by the time he ducks into a shady alley to rest, having more or less given up on finding his way to his assigned lodgings.

(Because he apparently has those now. He supposes he ought to feel grateful that his unseen jailers haven't left him to fend for himself on the streets, but the whole thing is a little too reminiscent of the Gallows for his taste. Minus the creepy statuary.)

His thoughts might have grown dangerously maudlin had the sound of a nearby footfall not caught his attention. He whips his head around to squint at the source of the noise. What he sees wipes away the last few desperate, harried months of his life as though the time had never passed at all. He's back in Kirkwall, the glow of Meredith's sword reflected a brilliant, sickening red off her Knight-Captain's armor, the life of every single mage in the city hanging in the balance. Without even thinking, he draws himself to his full height and grips his staff, calling his magic to him as easily as the moons call the tides.

Except it doesn't come. Something—or someone—has dampened it, reducing what was once a surging deluge to a mere trickle. Hawke can't be too miffed about it, though, since it gives his conscious mind time to catch up with his instincts.

Cullen is not his enemy, he tells himself, even though it doesn't seem true. A templar is a templar, but Cullen stood between him and Meredith and nearly died for it. That means something. It has to, despite the fact Cullen has made it abundantly clear that he views mages as less than human.

Give people the chance to change, Hawke. He's not sure when his conscience started sounding suspiciously like Varric, but he resents the dwarf's influence over him immensely. Especially when he's right.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowers his staff. “Knight-Captain Cullen?”

@absolutionem | starter call

[pokeglitchden]

I realize I have been lacking in updates on the training regimen. So here is how it's going.

First I've got Enkidu who is.. Very swiftly starting to become my most adept fighter. I do need to wear goggles to train him as his aura creates a slight visualtoxin and can cause headaches when viewed directly. He has been learning a veritable deluge of techniques, attempting to learn something new just about every other level. Some of them do make sense. Ice punch, quick attack and swift being among moves it's learned. But last level it attempted to learn Gust... I'm... Uncertain where the wind is coming from. But it sure does Create some wind.

Enkidu seems to be growing well. He's an energetic, happy little Riolu with a lot of pep... But he still has shown no signs of wanting to evolve. Could it be something about Glitch City that's preventing him from evolution?

Otherwise, Rascal and Zee this time are tied for second most growth. Rascal can still only come out against certain Pokémon, but he's still keeping up in growth with Pokémon who can battle more. I guess his level up group is very swift, in spite of how strong he is. His latest learned move was Fire Punch, though I hesitate to let him keep that on his moveset over the far more potent Fire Blast. Zee on the other hand continues to master her Psychic power well. I haven't found a better move set for her yet than the light screen and reflect set she's currently running with.

Gilligan, Æther and Mimic are still growing well, though I find especially that Æther is starting to lag behind the others. He's a starter Pokémon. Steadfast, strong, exceedingly great as a companion, but slow to strike and in many areas vulnerable. I find myself time and again needing to pull him back in order to avoid injury, even against unassuming Pokémon like common 'M. Gills and Mimic are less lagging and are more, starting to be more on level with Rascal, Enkidu and Zee.

And finally there's Ember. Who.. I may need to gain another badge to be able to train at all. Discouraging but...

Well, after my last battle with Zee at the start of the month I realized my battle skills are still very lacking. So, I'm putting effort into fixing that. Though I am wondering if perhaps I also need that kind of training as well. I guess my performance was rather.. Uninspiring...

So I'm going to fix that. I hope at least.

Maybe that third gym badge is something I should set my sights on. Zelli and Placeholder are out of town but...

I also need to fight Nimbus...

-Simon

[amorxsomnia]

@arcanescholxr liked for a starter!

The sweet scent of incense drifts gently throughout the pet shop interrupted only by a momentary cold draft before all settles down again. It's raining again outside, which wasn't uncommon at this time of year but it did put him in the mood for tea more often than usual, and it was just as well he'd set a pot to boil! The sound of dripping water only made him appreciate how warm and dry he was right now.

"Good afternoon. Please come in, you must be terribly cold and wet." D greeted softly, Q-chan already fetching a warm towel. He paused momentarily as he came face to face with the newcomer, retrieving the plush towel from the flying rabbit who landed on his shoulder with a chirp before offering it to the drenched Dwight. This was... not the kind of customer he'd expected, though if he were simply seeking shelter from the rain, D had no problem with that. It was just about tea time anyway and things had been quiet, no dount due to the unpleasant deluge raging outside right now.

"I was just about to partake in tea and cake if you'd like to join me, unless you are in a hurry? The rain will continue for a while longer so it's not likely to get busy."

[digital-guinea-pig]

Introducing Dripup, the Water Shepherd Pokemon and the water-type starter for the Cascada Region! Did you guess correctly?

I'm trying to create as much of Cascada from scratch as I can. Click the readmore for more information!

Some abilities will be reused from the canon games, others will be brand new, and some will be a bit of both.

Second Wind: When the Pokemon is below one-third health, moves that are the same main-type as the Pokemon will be 50% stronger.

Deluge: All water-type moves affect a whole party rather than just one target.

[weirdlypersonalrpmemes]

»        setting starters inspired by as dusk falls

send me a number between 1-20 and i’ll write a starter for our muses in the specified location! or, send me desert dream and i’ll randomize!

home, at sunset.

deep in the forest.

a trailer park.

on a beach.

in prison.

a lawyer’s office.

a tall tree near a run-down rest stop.

a hotel someone else is paying for.

a seedy bar in the midst of a deluge of rain.

a wild party.

train tracks.

out on the open road.

a construction site.

a shootout.

a barn that needs fixing up.

the canadian wilderness.

the sheriff’s house.

a swimming pool.

a cabin in the woods.

a motel on route 66.

[medicus-mortem]

@ikkaku-of-heart liked [+] for a Deity Verse starter.

   Writhing black darkness swirls about him, twisting and changing as it so often does. One moment he can see a giant spider raising to strike. Then it’s a snake. Then a gaping pit. Constant and changing with the fears feeding into his nightmare realm. The god sighs as he reclines on the dark currents of his home. Arms are folded behind his head, his golden eyes closing against the constant shifting. He wishes he could close his ears to the distant whimpers, screams and cries, but he cannot. This is his realm and their terror is what fuels him.

   He floats lazily through the ever changing void, the black smoke rising from his body mixing with the dark of his home. He is part of this place, made from the Nightmare just as he rules over it. For a time, he stays still, peaceful in a sense. He has no desire to reach for the eternal scattering of stars that dot this place. No wish to engage with these visitors to his realm or his role as the bringer of nightmares. The glowing dots of dreaming mortals can stay as they are. Their anxieties and fears can be their own for now.

   The solitude grows long and the god of Nightmares takes a breath. He sits up and with a wave of his hand the swirling black takes shape. It twists into a mockery of a room, the place coloured in muted hues and breaking apart at the edges. Dream-like, unreal like everything about him, and touched by his very essence. It looks cozy, comfortable, but an ever present unease settles over this room. As if the place wishes for no visitors at all, as if going home to a place you are no longer welcome in.

   He strides towards an armchair and sets himself down in it. Another wave of his hand brings a shifting bookcase into being but the books are not wispy on the edges. These books and scrolls are real. Gifts from his sister so keep his boredom at bay when all he has is a realm of smoke and black.

   Just as he plucks a book from the shelf and settles in to read the God feels a tug at his heart. An insistent pulse at the core of his being. He slouches, jaw growing tight in irritation. Someone is summoning him. The tendril of darkness flowing from the cracked tattoos on his skin pull away from his realm and form into a dark mirror before him. The god rises from his chair, throwing the book aside and peering into the black glass. Then comes a pinprick of light that soon becomes a deluge when it expands, and he instantly knows who is calling for him.

   His dearest sister has decided to meddle again.

   The dark god squints, eyes pained by the light, and yet he steps through. He still moves from his grim plane into the bright, guiding wonder of his sister’s realm. He snarls and grimaces, baring his sharp teeth as a hand rises to shade his glowing eyes.

   “Fuck, Ikkaku,” he hisses, the moment his feet touch warm crystal. “Can’t you turn that thing off? You’ve blinded me all over again.” He knows full well she can’t and he knows she’s dimmed it for him, but he’ll complain all the same.

[myopicry]

Hello! Lesbian from the last ask about qprs again! Your ramblings were delightful as expected, it definetely gave me something to think about (as someone who has also identified with aroace for a while before adopting my current "label"). If you're still okay with answering questions, I'd like to know more about your thoughts on the aroace spectrum itself? I remember there being some discourse in the community about whether or not gray area aroaces were valid or not (or something like that... I don't care enough now to remember lol). But just generally, what do you think of the concept of an aroace spectrum? (also can I be 🪼anon pls? I'm pretty sure I'll keep visiting your inbox in the future sorryyyy)

hi again :0 !! honored to get a named anon and I did not know there was a jellyfish emoji so that was also fun to learn lmao, and do not worry I love having stuff in my inbox it's like a little writing prompt for me sometimes and I really love that!

onto the actual question in the ask (which I am also very happy to answer genuinely I enjoy yapping far too much so this is very self indulgent)

it is also very long... I hope you enjoy more long paragraphs !!

similar to how I feel about qprs, I think a lot of the labeling and identification that comes from the concept of the aroace spectrum is just unnecessary and puts far too much focus on the idea of labeling yourself anyways. I mean, does it exist? yeah, it exists since you could define many things as a spectrum if you want to. and clearly, there are people who have such experiences that can be labeled on the spectrum, micro-labels do have some point of origin. but what it always comes down to for me is: does it matter? does it change anything to have a label versus not having one? does it actually help to have a label?

because, on the one hand, I totally get wanting to know that your experiences aren't isolated, that there are others who feel similarly. especially since we live in a world that has such a deluge of media that reinforces a very slim view of what the human experience looks like, and that there are a lot of traditionalist societal norms in the US that dictate the "normative" way to think about sexuality and romance, if you deviate from that norm, it can be incredibly isolating. that's why I do get why there is always so much passion (especially among younger generations) to defend these labels and communities, because in a way people just want to feel seen and understood. that's pretty universal, I think.

however, on the other hand, I think using a spectrum that spawns a new identification label promotes the "being seen" aspect more than the "being understood" part, and at least to me, the understanding is much more valuable when it comes to the function of a label.

a label that allows people to understand you, which can foster community--think "lesbian" as a label, it allows for same-sex attracted women to identify themselves and find each other to share experiences, advice, and advocate for general rights and protections.

a label that allows people to just be seen could be an identifier, sure. but if you just label yourself as "gray ace" or "on the ace spectrum", considering that it is a spectrum and thus could mean pretty different things for different people, it just lets people know this is what you call yourself and you probably think it's interesting enough to keep mentioning. plus, a majority of this kind of niche identification happens online anyway (what would be the point of a aspec bar, y'know. that's just a bar. or what legal protections do gray aces need? everyone has the right to not have sex with people they don't want to, that kind of stuff is in fact protected by the law, which is great) and calling yourself anything on the internet is explicitly about being seen a certain way and not questioned on it. so, the label becomes more of a vanity. maybe a conversation starter. more cynically, maybe a ticket into feeling special and asserting yourself in a larger, trendy community that has been slowly growing in a marketable demographic. (I really wanted to go on a tangent about the "do aromatic/aspec identities belong in the lgbtq community" discourse but then I realized I don't even really believe in the concept of "lgbtq community" so. uh. maybe a ramble for another day.)

(tangent I will go on: one very petty thing that pushed me to question the identification of aroace was that I noticed people who were identified as aroace or on the ace spectrum talked about it so much even though there wasn't much to say outside of niche fandom opinions. I found that a bit irksome, and became more self conscious if I was talking about it too much myself because if I found it annoying, I definitely didn't want to behave like that lol, especially because it's basically a conversational dead end to mention. for definitionally embodying the lack of something honestly aroaces do love to talk about that. I say this as I type another 500 words or something though lmao)

honestly, I think the label of asexual is pretty functional by itself, it's a lack of sexual attraction, which is pretty self explanatory and important to communicate to others. It's unique enough to have it's own community struggles to share (dating while ace, not relating to peers) it's just when you get to stuff like demisexual or throw in the split attraction model then it's actually way faster to just say "I don't really consider that until I have an emotional connection with someone" or "I don't see myself with that person/most people/whatever distinction romantically" or "I care more about personality" or just not talking about it unless relevant in conversation, which most people already do when it comes to their preferences and details of their relationship boundaries.

this is already so long and I feel like I've gone slightly off topic but I am just gonna sandwich this last thing I've been thinking about regarding micro-labels, especially aroace related ones. sometimes, to me, it feels like there's too much possibility for them to become excuses. like, if I say I'm aromantic, I might just be justifying my own fear of intimacy and opening up to people, and no one can push me on this because it's "valid" and if you push back that would be the equivalent of "telling a gay person they're not gay". which it obviously isn't. If I say I'm "fictosexual" I might just not talk to a lot of people in real life and am very obsessed with fandom culture, or I might just have a celebrity crush and very little real relationship experience, which I definitely won't gain if I just label myself as some flavor of aroace and commit to justifying my adherence to a comfort zone. (the aromantic one is based on my actual experience, the fictosexual one is not but I can definitely see how a much younger version of myself might latch on to that. concerning!)

I personally also used the "safety" of the aroace label of not needing to come out as a crutch to ensure I wouldn't have to think about telling my parents at all (it's much easier to tell your parents that you don't feel like dating anyone than to tell them you want to date a woman). it just became another way I could repress things without having to come to terms with the fact that it was repression. sometimes I blame myself for this, sometimes I don't. it is actually pretty bleak sometimes to be same sex attracted, and I have had many sleepless nights where I truly feel the weight of what I have to do to simply find the love and support heterosexuals have easily. it's all tangled up with my self-hatred, and led to me dealing with a lot of anger and dysphoria over "not having it as easy" as men. obviously all that is pretty toxic, and only when I was able to come to terms with being same-sex attracted could I start tackling these things head on. I do think if I kept believing in the aroace spectrum and community wholeheartedly, some of my problems would have gotten worse. repression is not really a good technique, who knew?

all in all, I think if you start to think about all of it too much, it begins to unravel. asexual is maybe the only "useful" label but the rest of it falls apart in meaning and purpose to me. and the more nuanced stuff, like the concept of a split attraction model, is interesting academically and in discussion, but I feel like introducing to the clumsy hands of twitter, tumblr, tiktok (and other social media sites that don't start with t) as a way to determine identities on par with lgb ones is. probably not super productive.

apologies in advance for the unhinged use of prepositions and conjunctions on this one, I had way too much random shit to say and too little energy to actually properly draft and edit it, feel free to ask for further clarification or elaboration! big big thanks again anon I shall look forward to you in my inbox once more :D

[erabundus]

@etherose &&. said... “ you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together. ” (Hi Ren do you like a random pink elf lady just kinda showing up and wanting to be friends-)

the  knife  ren  holds  in  his  hand  is  dull;  he  could  press  his  thumb  to  the  blade  without  fear  of  drawing  blood.  (  surely  even  a  human  could  do  the  same,  and  they  aren't  nearly  so  DURABLE.  )  there's  a  piece  of  wood  cradled  in  his  opposite  palm  —  smooth,  stripped  neatly  of  all  its  bark.  the  shavings  litter  the  ground  at  his  feet,  yet  no  matter  how  much  the  wanderer  cuts  away,  nothing  ever  seems  to  take  shape.  he's  devoid  of  any  inspiration,  merely  hacking  amateurishly  away  at  his  foundation  —  presumably  until  an  idea  miraculously  comes  to  him  or  there's  merely  nothing  left  to  carve.  ren  doesn't  have  any  particular  preference  for  either  OUTCOME.  he  works  only for  the  sake  of  keeping  his  hands  preoccupied. 

it's  not  unusual  for  the  wanderer  to  dabble  in  such  tiny  interests.  he  doesn't  sleep  and  his  current  life  has  left  him  with  a  curious  deluge  of  FREE  TIME.  ordinarily,  ren  would  prefer  to  fill  these  languid  hours  with  books  and  solitary  strolls  through  the  wilderness  —  but  he's  always  been  an  awfully  TACTILE  creature,  and  so  endeavors  that  require  use  of  his  hands  hold  similar  appeal.  painting,  sewing,  cooking.  he  cycles  through  hobbies  on  a  whim;  some  persist,  while  others  are  only  as  good  for  what  fickle  moments  they  actually  manage  to  occupy  his  attention  before  growing  stale.  wood  carving  is  evidently  how  he's  chosen  to  spend  this  particular  evening  —  settling  down  in  a  comfortable  spot  to  watch  as  the  sun  slowly  crawls  below  the  horizon.  (  painting  the  sky  a  brilliant,  warm-toned  gradient  in  its  wake  —  like  BLEEDING  INK.  )  perhaps  tomorrow  something  else  might  catch  his  interest.  who  knows;  he  has  eternity  to  burn.

he  doesn't  look  up  at  the  sound  of  an  unfamiliar  voice,  merely  carving  away  another  paper-thin  strip  of  wood.  ❝  ... i  can't  say  i'd  make  for  good  company.  ❞  it's  not  necessarily  an  effort  to  push  her  away  (  though  it  would  be  DISHONEST  to  say  that  doesn't  play  a  role  )  but  rather  a  statement  of  fact  in  his  usual  blunt  manner.

several  seconds  pass,  the  silence  only  broken  by  the  intermittent  scraping  of  the  knife.  it  drags  on  long  enough  one  may  be  forgiven  for  assuming  that's  all  he  has  to  say  —  before  the  wanderer  suddenly  exhales  a  soft  huff  of  a  sigh.  ❝  ... but i also  can't  stop  you  either  way.  ❞  technically.  it's  not  as  if  he  OWNS  this  space.

MISC SENTENCE STARTERS

[swiftscion]

clair de lune

In urban areas, chalkos from the earth is hard to simply come by. What used to be here is now stored in a warehouse just outside the city limits, guarded heavily by city watch. A plan is made to raid the warehouse and take what you can for your own stores. But be careful: you won’t be the only mages on the battlefield, and the Chalkos dust in the air will make for an explosive battle. 4d2 Chalkos per post, lose -1HP at the start of each day.

She expected a battle, but is greeted with war.

Larcei’s body slams against tiled floors, her back arching and body forced into a short spasm as pain makes it rounds through her hot blood. It hurts, reminding her that she is alive and fighting. 

“GRAH!” she chokes, her pupils dilating with rage, “Y-you’re gonna regret that! You mages and your fancy tricks... How ‘bout I fight fire with fire?!” Isaachian feet kick themselves up and off the ground, sending their agile body with it. Before her foe can react--before they can ready another blast of their controlling wind magic--she turns to one of the nearby stores of chalkos. It is a humble barrel, its lid left half ajar. Seeing an opening, the length of her stellar Brave Sword enters the barrel. And a bright flash of light follows, and when she seizes her prized blade from the container, it glows with newfound strength.

“Keh! You think that’ll save you? Give it up, girlie. I’ve got that stuff runnin’ through my blood!“

But give up, she does not. The guard prepares their spell in the palm of their hand, and when they flicks it forward to unleash a hurricane at her, Larcei engages. Her movements are swift, her winged feet darting just out of harm’s way while keeping up her advance. With measured steps, death arrives. And its fury knows no bounds.

“Take this!” 

Swordarm swings, and when the gleaming edge--the extension of itself--slashes the side of the soldier, sparks of light fly from the open wound like a deluge of shooting stars. Those sparks then explode into an inferno, razing the guard and rending them neutralized by the time Larcei finishes her swing. She looks to her sword in amazement, surprised that her last-ditch effort actually worked. So much exposure to chalkos has enhanced her mother’s heirloom, allowing Larcei’s passion to manifest as magic during battle. 

“Huh, guess that’s the end of it,” she whispers to herself, before turning to her allies. The fires of fighting almost made her forget that they were supposed to be on a mission, staging a heist against this warehouse’s chalkos by nightfall. 

She returns to them, treating herself to a quick glance at the full moon through the only window in the facility. “Hey, guys,” she calls, albeit quietly, “check this out. You can stick your weapons in this stuff and use it to fight off the guards!” 

Roll 4d2 = 2, 2, 2, 1; +7 Chalkos!

UP NEXT: @nagavoice; starter for @laslow @atypicalsenerio

[heatwayve]

starter for dylan. ( @cruelsxmmcr​​ )

where: the grass

when: day 37

– IT’S THE PERFECT DAY. it’s like the other night’s storm brought in a deluge of perfect weather to follow, only sunny and clear skies, birds’ve been chirping. miles can name them all, courtesy of all these birding encyclopedias that his dad used to leave out, the first to tell you when that’s a blue rock thrush. well, maybe second now, since eden’s in the villa, and has had to correct him a couple times. miles is sat out in the grass, just . . . enjoying the day where he’s got no obligations, nowhere to be but looking up at the sky. “ dylan ! ” he waves the guy over before he flops back, “ lay out here with me. too perfect a day to do anything else . . . though i’ve only got about fifteen minutes before i’ve got to go reapply sunscreen. so, we’ve got to enjoy this moment. ”

[cxncordia]

No new muses / threads for the next month.

Other than the few starter ideas that I will be throwing out there (for the people that contacted me before I made this post) I will not be making new threads / muses in the next month.

I am currently really busy picking up some work. My anxiety is also coming and going (which does not help my muse) given the current events in my city. While my family and friends are all okay and we have very little losses, I am still in a bit of distress over the fate of my family. The Hurricane was bad, but as always, the real problem comes after the deluge: reconstructing the city amidst social turmoil is hard.

So, while everything settles down and life takes a turn for the better I will be responding only to the threads I have (which are already a lot) and until I finish a few, I will not be taking new threads or creating new muses. I hope that you guys can understand my situation.

Thanks in advance.

And if you wish to donate to the cause, you can help the Mexican Red Cross on this link. Use Google translate to navigate the page or contact me via DM where I can help you with the translation.