#dogskull

[alpacaidentitycrisis]

We really need to find another name for the "wendigo" creature design because I love the design deer skull humanoid cryptid without it being attached to the cultural appropriation of the native mythical creatures name

[strangeworldtattoo]

Dog skull tattooed by Carla! #strangeworldtattoo #carlaraffaeltattoos #dogskull #tattoo #calgary (at Strange World Tattoo) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoOBSG_vbPF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @astreamofstars from this ask for this prompt meme. Karlach - "It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me."

-----

“Oy, who’s the glowy bitch by the door, then?”

Karlach knows better than to bother looking up when the fresh-meat greataxe grunt starts talking, down the barracks a ways. This shit isn’t new. They always like to talk, the new arrivals to Zariel's army. And as soon as they see Karlach, no other topic will do.

Fair play enough, after all; she does kinda stick out. There's nobody else like her in the platoon, or in the whole army. In the eight years she’s been here, nobody else has ever gotten the tin can stuck into them and survived. She’s special, as Zariel likes to assure her, though special has never bought her anything but more blood and death - and the attention of every ignot who want to pick a fight.

Today’s mouthy prick is a draegloth, which explains why he’s talking a big game. A dogskull’s almost as unique as Karlach is around here; makes sense he’d pick out a target fast before anyone can pick him out for an asskicking.

“Oh, that? That's Cliffgate,” says another voice. This one Karlach recognizes - Namtar, a cambion, one of the platoon sergeants. He and Karlach have butted heads before, because Namtar is a rotten pissant. “Zariel's little kiss-ass. No heart, just an infernal engine in her chest.”

"No way," the draegloth says. "That's the Demonsbane? A ruttin' tief? Not even hellsborn?" He laughs sharply. "Lettin' in all sorts these days, uh?"

Karlach ignores the mocking words, focusing on choking down the tasteless morsels that pass for rations around here. The bunk across from her creaks unhappily as weight hits it.

“They're talkin’ about you, Dart,” Flo says with a nasty grin, settling onto the bed and lounging back against the wall. “Gonna sit here and take it?”

Karlach sighs. She picked up the nickname around her second week in the Hells, and it's never once been meant with kindness. Even Flo says it with a nasty edge, and Flo is the closest thing she has to a friend.

Good reminder, I guess, that no one here really gives a fuck about me, no matter how much I might like to pretend. Even after eight years, she can sometimes, if she squints, convince herself that there's camaraderie here, like there was in Gortash's old crew before he sold her out. But it's vain hope, a desperate attempt to pretend this place isn't rotting her fro the inside out; the illusion never lasts long and always just leaves her feeling lonelier.

"If it's not them, it'll be somebody else," she says noncommittally. "Lemme eat my dinner in peace."

"Nawww..." Flo says, comfortably dismissive. "C'mon, Dart, give us a show. Been too long since we had a proper scrap in here besides the piece in your chest."

Karlach laughs softly in spite of herself. It's a pretty weak pun, but the jokes in Avernus are as bad as the food. "I'm wore out, Flo," she says, shaking her head. "Leave off."

She looks up to find Flo's smile has turned a shade more brittle. "C'mon, now, Dart," she says, and there's a warning note in it now. "Y'know I can't be seen bein' friends with a softy. Give us a show, I said."

The message is loud and clear, as it always is. My friendship is conditional. And you'll do as I say, 'cos you *don't* want to be my enemy. Now dance.

Karlach huffs out a weary, flame-hot breath and tosses aside the last bit of her ration pack uneaten. With a groan, she pushes herself to her feet and strides down the barracks corridor towards Namtar and the draegloth.

"Hey, there she is." Namtar looks up with a lazy grin as she approaches. He's flopped on his bunk with his boots off, his wings furled neatly under him and feet up on a stack of equipment piled at the foot of the bed. "How's tricks, Dart?" Before Karlach can respond, he shoots a conspiratorial glance at the young dogskull. "Y'know why we call her Dart, Markos?"

The draegloth -- Markos -- looks puzzled. "Why?" he asks.

"Dumb-Ass Rusty Toaster." Namtar brays with laughter so hard it shakes the bed a little. "Fits, too, cos all she's good for is throwing at things t' poke holes in them."

Markos snickers loudly. Several more of the platoon have picked up on the conversation; smelling blood in the water, they've started to circle up, leaned casually against the walls or peering over the edge of their bunks. Some of them are grinning, enjoying watching the Demonsbane get a dunking. Others - the smart ones - are eyeing Karlach warily. She hasn't said anything yet, but her eyes are smoldering. In spite of herself, the rage is building. 

She doesn't want to fight them. She never has. She's always been loyal, and even in this bitch of a place, even under Zariel's thumb, she'd have fought hard for anyone here who wanted to fight for her in return. But that's never made the slightest bit of difference, because everyone here is a fucking tosser.

Hells. Maybe, when you come right down to it, so am I.

And that, really, is what enrages her, far more than these empty little insults.

"Y'know," she says slowly, looking the draegloth up and down. "I expect this sort of crap from the fresh meat. A mouth spewing shit 'cos you haven't learned to shut the fuck up yet. But you--" She turns her gaze slowly and deliberately to the sergeant. "Eight years it's been, Namtar, and neither of us dead yet, so you'd think you'd have figured out not to mess with me." She lets a slow, feral grin curl across her lips, and there's a ripple of anticipatory mumbling from the gathering crowd around them. "My fault, I guess, that you've forgotten to be scared of me. But I can fix that."

She moves suddenly, with no windup, her fists and feet all shifting at once. Her left fist crashes into Markos's jaw, knocking him back into the steel frame of the bed behind him; his skull ricochets off it with a metallic whingggg as his skull ricochets off the metal. With her left foot, she kicks behind his knee while he's unbalanced and fully flips him sideways. As he bounces back from the bedframe, he goes careening onto his front, his nose crunching into the stone floor.

Meanwhile, her other hand grabs Namtar by the collar and drags him out of his bunk. He has almost two inches on her, but she lifts him with ease one-armed, the engine roaring in her chest and sending energy coursing through her bicep. Spinning out of the kick at Markos, she slams Namtar into the wall, then releases her grip for a split second, only to refix it tightly around his throat before he can fall.

All of the cambion's bravado has vanished. His eyes are wide and brilliant white in the dark red of his face and he squirms ineffectually against Karlach's implacable grip. His wings, crunched between his back and the wall, struggle feebly. "Oy! Let me go!" he bleats, gripping her hand with both of his and trying to pull it away.

She glares at him. "Maybe. If you want to grovel a bit. Otherwise I'll finally just kill you. Maybe everyone else would finally get it through their thick skulls that you don't mess with me."

He sneers in an attempt at disdain, though it's considerably weakened by the fact that he's now struggling to breathe. "You wouldn't dare."

She laughs humorlessly and leans forward until her nose is nearly touching his, so he can feel the heat radiating off her body and see nothing but the exhausted fury in her eyes. "That really a chance you wanna take, sergeant?"

He hesitates, balanced between his anger and his fear. But something he sees in her eyes must convince him, because the fear wins. "Sorry," he mutters.

"What was that?" she asks coolly. "Didn't hear you."

"I'm sorry," he snaps. "Now let me go."

She could drag it out further, but the whole situation feels sticky as hot tar on her skin, burning down into her bones. Gods, I hate this. I hate all of it. I don’t want to be this thing they’ve made me, but I don’t know how to stop.

She releases his throat with a jerk, letting him slide down the wall to the floor, where he sits clutching at his neck and wheezing. Markos, nearby, is out cold where he hit the floor.

"Good," she mutters. "Just... stay there and shut the fuck up." She doesn't wait to hear what the other gathered soldiers might have to say, but turns and stalks away back down the row of beds towards the other end of the barracks. 

Flo gives her a slow clap as she returns to her bunk, grinning unpleasantly from ear to ear. "Nice one. Damn good show, Dart, just as I asked."

"Shut up," Karlach answers, tossing herself facedown onto her mattress. The engine is still running hot, surging pain through her chest and her head and her arms with the slow letdown of adrenaline; she can smell it searing a scorched mark into the bedsheets. "You too - just... just shut up and leave me alone.”

[mikus-coining-blog]

--skullic

A gender system related to skulls! Examples of this system would include: dogskullic - a gender related to dogs and skulls or dog skulls!

COINED BY: Me!

Template!!

[shannybasar]

@Ulyssesin80 : Day4

Chapter 3 - Proteus

In the Homeric correspondence, Telemachus visits Menelaus who had pinned down the ever-changing Proteus and managed to get news of Odysseus and his travels.

In this chapter the style completely changes into Stephen's stream of consciousness while he is walking on Sandymount Beach.

The beginning shows why Ulysses is challenging to read:

Ineluctable modality of the visible at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. 

As Professor James Hefferman explains in The Great Courses:

For many readers of Ulysses, Chapter 3 is the worst sand trap ever put into words. Joyce himself seems to have foreseen that we might get stuck here with Stephen Dedalus on Sandymount Strand or sink into this chapter like quicksand and never get out.

But he urges us to persevere:

It’s a very cerebral walk, a philosophic walk taken by a highly intellectual young man. It’s also our fullest introduction to his mind and imagination. It shows us his imagination at work on all kinds of things ranging from midwives to minnows, from dogs to deadbeat uncles, from old revolutionaries to bloated corpses. So, don’t be shy. Take off those shoes. Get your feet in the sand. Come along with me in the track of Stephen.

My favourite passage of description is of the visceral image bloated corpse:

Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. A quiver of minnows, fat of a spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his buttoned trouserfly. God becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes featherbed mountain. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead. Hauled stark over the gunwale he breathes upward the stench of his green grave, he leprous nosehole snorting to the sun.

My favourite sentences:

Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the ground, moves to one great goal. Ah, poor dogsbody. Here lies poor dogsbody's body.

[truetubes]

Skeleton dog by @deadrabbitink using True Grips and Tattoo Grip Tape! 🐕

#dogtattoo #skeletontattoo #skulltattoo #dogskull #animaltattoo #darkartists #blacktattooart #blackworktattoo #dotworktattoo #blackwork #blacktattoo #truegrips #truetattoo #ecofriendly #tattoo #tattoos #skeleton

[knightelf]

your whole world gets literally flipped upside down just after you watch your situationship get kidnapped as youre assaulted and then you get turned into a fucking dog thrown in prison. you barely have time to process any of this in your concussion riddled dogskull before the worlds meanest womlet breaks into your cell just to literally ride your back and call you a pussy. how did they not fuck on screen explicitly

randomly remembered how funny meangirl midna is. she was such a fucking bitch for no reason she was so funny

[n3uro71k4-61rl]

[system-reset]

dogskull.

[analyzingyourkins]

shigaraki tomura

You kin Shigaraki Tomura?

Damn the familial issues really popped out with that one, are you still stuck in that horribly abusive household or have you escaped yet? Have you gotten the therapy you need yet? It doesn’t make you lesser or weaker to just get help from time to time, you don’t need to try to do everything on your own and live your life solo. You probably dream of setting things on fire for no real reason other than to just destroy since the strict household you grew up in made you crave anything and everything deemed taboo or wasn’t allowed in your house. You use every chance you can to ruin something or yourself, sometimes other people. Also random but you probably religiously drink energy drinks for no real reason.

[aelendal]

[jennascuriocabinet]

Hope everyone is having a glorious Sunday in the sunshine! I have taken full advantage of the sunshine today before the madness of next week begins, how have you spent your Sunday? Also, I can now confirm the Halloween shop update will be on the 1st of October 👻 #jennascuriocabinet #skullsofinstagram #skulls #osteology #dogskull #magpieskull #skullcollector #cabinetofcuriosity #curiosities #oddities #deadstuff #deadthings #skullsandbones #taxidermyart #morbid #momentomori #vulturecultureart #odditiesandcuriosities #curió #animalskulls #spookydecor #humanskull #horseskull #alltheskulls (at Jenna's Curio Cabinet) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTccIrLKVPb/?utm_medium=tumblr

[israfelart]

New profile pic! As you can see,it is me holding a bird. As I am already undead and feed on souls and such, the bird can make itself a comfortable nest inside my mouth. Very practical~💀🕊️ Does not mean I've stopped caring about BLM. Still going to post more stories and try to educate myself and help educate others about the issues. But it was time to change the picture 😋 #undeaddog #undeadcreature #dogskull #pigeon #tipplerpigeon #hellhound #selfie #monster #monsters #cryptid #furryart #fursona #creepy #spooky #bird #jaws https://www.instagram.com/p/CC6xtcujunx/?igshid=1nxoclfm6zo4z

[kyasanuri]

That feeling when you draw traditionaly and you really miss ctrl+z and all the nice smooth brush strokes. :D

[gabrielmestrearrioja]

"El Gran Chingón" (2021) dog skull, coral, pearls, stones and a bee hive for the F•I•N•D•I•N•G•S exhibition at the @yacaranda_bonsai_Tepoztlan #cultfortheocult #avantgardespiritualists #thedevil #dogskull #sculpture #conteporaryart #vultureculture https://www.instagram.com/p/CNKaalijNOd/?igshid=ptjakqx1qma

[terrible-claw]

I bought a new coyote, I have 3 now