#drawing can really sap my energy

[hughjazzinthehouse]

"We Can Do It!" but with Cicero, to motivate for the clown poll, keep it pushing!!

[insufferablemod]

speaking as an artist who has for the past few months at most doodled on school work and has not even opened their drawing software at home since probably july, hows your drawing been going?

khjzsdfkd OK So, despite having not posted any art in ages, like, 70% of my waking hours the last few weeks?months?? have been spent drawing(or 3d modeling) buuut theres been no posted art cus 1. i got a job(yay money! boo less time for hs art!), i am now Officially a concept and 3d artist at a tiny indie studio😎 which is kinda wild lol 2. i am stupid and occasionally(often) bite off Way more then i can fucking chew and signed myself up for way 2 many cool hs art projects that take up all my non work art time thankfully 2 of them r p much done! so i can then show off the art ive done for those soon And ill have more time for other art!

[stars-obsession-pit]

Since my brain has continued to rotate my alternate take on kryptonite being made of ectoplasm (here) I’ve decided to give the idea a name:

Souls of Kryptonite AU

I still don’t have any big or solid plans with it or whatever but. Yeah.

Anyway, I started thinking a bit about some worldbuilding possibilities around the thing. Nothing is too concrete but I wanted to write them out:

So, firstly:

Krypton’s destruction in some way involved ectoplasmic contamination of the planet (to justify why its bits got weird)

But then I had two ideas on how to take it:

1. Kryptonite flat-out is ectoplasm

When Krypton exploded, the energy output of the blast caused the souls of the dying Kryptonians to crystalize

Thus Kryptonite technically isn’t the shards of the planet - it’s the shards of the people

Because the souls crystalized in this way, they never fully formed ghosts. Instead, they’re just trapped in essentially the moment of their death

Kryptonite can hurt ghosts to touch because of the emotions contained within leaking through

I don’t have any fancy explanation for the Kryptonian power sapping part. Maybe the nature of it being their souls cause some sort of magic effect? Or maybe it’s literally just still radioactive in whatever special way. There are options.

Using it as a power source may or may not harm the souls - I’d think it probably would, but depending on how the energy effects work it might be arguable that the souls wouldn’t take much damage

Probably would require fancy ghost magic or ecto-technology to free the souls

You might be able to get a power boost by eating it but you really shouldn’t because that’d be like, soul cannibalism.

2. Kryptonite interacts with ectoplasm

Kryptonite is less “solidified ectoplasm” and more of a sponge that draws in ectoplasm from around it

Thus when any ghosts formed during the planet’s destruction, they were immediately pulled into it and trapped

And if any other ghost touches it later, it will start to drain or even capture them too

The ectoplasm stored in Kryptonite gradually leaks out as a different form of radiation - this is what allows it to interfere with Kryptonian powers

Generally, the more charged with ectoplasm a piece is, the stronger the radiation it releases is (this just feels like a logical rule)

The souls/cores/whatever-you-want-to-call-it of the trapped ghosts aren’t deconstructed (maybe because the ectoplasmic makeup of that part is different enough to hold it together)

Though maybe using it as an active power source could gradually damage them, to add extra angst to the usage of it in tech

However, any new ectoplasm the ghost forms while trying to heal gets torn away and spread throughout the rock

Thus keeping the ghosts stuck in a barely-formed state (essentially trapping them in the moment of their death)

Also this continuous drawing on the trapped ghosts’ ectoplasm allows for the Kryptonite to remain powered indefinitely

Kryptonite can’t hold an infinite amount of ectoplasm at once - it eventually becomes saturated and stops taking in any more (beyond replenishing what is loses to radiation)

At that point, it’s harmless for ghosts to touch (and can even give them a power boost if they consume it)

Yep i’m keeping the possibility of eating the rocks. Just make sure it’s filled with only non-sentient ambient ectoplasm and not souls and you’re good to dig in!

That saturated state could be used as a way to free the ghosts - continuously flood the Kryptonite with enough ectoplasm to keep it saturated, and the ghost will be able to reform without being drawn back in

Carefully breaking the stone might also work, but I’d probably add some sort of complication with that - maybe in regards to the stored ectoplasm being released suddenly or it potentially damaging the souls within

I feel like the latter option allows for some interesting concepts, but it’s a bit less faithful to the original “kryptonite is ectoplasm” idea

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part thirteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve

-

Sephiroth has a really good body! So fast and strong! The force he can put into the simplest attacks is amazing!

It really is like he's suddenly possessing Liu Qingge - with decades of training and bodybuilding and power at his fingertips. He's almost jealous, and a little bit offended! If this is anything like what Liu-shidi is working with, ah - where was he coming from, asking his scholar shixiong for spars, huh?! As if Shen Qingqiu could match this!

Shen Qingqiu was a spiritual cultivator - his sword seals were stronger than his actual combat abilities, so that's what he mostly stuck to, letting his very capable sword do the talking. Especially with Without a Cure sapping his strength. Liu Qingge had tried to teach him, and he'd really tried to learn too, he'd thought he'd need all the advantages he could get when Luo Binghe came back, but, ah, he just didn't have it in him to train like that. It was so much work!

It's so effortless now, pulling off moves he'd learned as Shen Qingqiu but never quite had the physical strength to pull off properly. He feels weightless and without barriers, like there's nothing, no gravity, no physical limitations, nothing that could get in his way!

Not even Genesis.

"What the hell was that?!" the man demands, sprawled on the floor, staring up at him in deep offence.

Sephiroth is a villain, so smiling smugly is alright. "Your form is off," and swings his ridiculous beautiful Japanese blade down, until it almost touches the floor. "You need to work on your footing."

The sword is his biggest hindrance, honestly - followed closely by the too tight coat. It's not just the length of the blade, but the design. He's used to Shen Qingqiu's Xiu Ya, which is a two-edged straight jian sword, never mind the fact that it's a spiritual weapon. Masamune can't even be compared to a dao sword - which Shen Qingqiu had occasionally helped his disciples with, but which he'd never been particularly comfortable with. 

The blade is much thinner and more flexible than he's used to, and he really has to wonder how it hasn't been broken or at least chipped against Genesis' straighter, heftier sword. Those were some heavy blows!

Actually… 

Genesis jumps to his feet and swings his sword. "Again," he demands.

"Hang on a moment," Sephiroth says, considering his sword at length. Running a bare hand along the blade finds no dents, and the edge is as sharp as it was in the beginning. No chips. That's… impossible, right? It's just a katana blade. It's not a spiritual sword, it can't even heal itself.

Although it does have three marbles of Materia in its hilt. And there is something… it's not Qi, but there's something. The sword isn't exactly lifeless.

Lifting Masamune up, he sends a small fraction of Sephiroth massive, sluggish spiritual power into the blade, and - ah. It lights up with something similar to a sword glare. How interesting! That makes sense, since weapons like these are how people channel magic here. And he does recall a lot of sword beam types of attacks from the games!

"Do not throw that my way," Genesis says, holding his sword in front of him in a guard. "I will answer in kind, Sephiroth, I swear to Goddess."

"I wasn't about to," he answers with a snort and draws his energy back. Now that he's looking for it, he can still sense it.

So, Masamune is subtly drawing on his energy. It's not exactly how a spiritual weapon would do it, but it's… similar. Passive and constant. Hm. Maybe something to do with the metal itself? Fascinating - are all Materia-imbued weapons like this?

"Is Masamune alright?" Angeal asks worriedly, coming forward. "Did something happen?"

"It's fine," Sephiroth answers and lowers the sword. He nods to Genesis. "And yours?"

"The Rapier is just fine," Genesis says, swinging it as though shaking dirt if it. "No need to worry."

The… Rapier? "That is not a rapier."

"No, it's a broadsword, and I thought it was funny," Genesis sniffs and holds it straight up. "Rapier sounds more elegant. Mine is a weapon of finesse."

That's… surprisingly lighthearted for someone so dramatic. Well, he'd seen worse names for swords. And people.

"Now, again?" Genesis asks, swinging the sword challengingly down. "Or do you want to jump in, Angeal?"

"I think I'll watch a little bit more," Angeal says, stepping back again. "Remember, no magic."

"Yes, yes," Genesis says and holds his… Rapier in a guard. "Ready when you are, Sephiroth."

Taking in the man's posture with Shen Qingqiu's expert eye, he hums. "If you say so, Genesis," he says and shifts to a stance.

Now that he has some sense of his own energy running through Masamune, he has a much better grasp of the length and the curve. With it he dares to go a little faster, not having to worry about overreacting and hurting his opponent. He can also almost sense Genesis' sword now, and predict its movements.

It makes for a very short spar indeed.

"What the hell -" Genesis grumbles, again on the floor, and glares up at him. "Are you toying with me right now?!"

Heh. Kind of! "Your footing," he answers in his best villainous drawl, "Is weak."

"My footing is fine!"

"Then why are you on the floor?" 

Genesis mutters a curse and stands up, gripping Rapier's handle tightly. "Smug son of a bitch - I am going to end your legend here and now!"

The man attacks without warning, and it's such bad etiquette that Shen Qingqiu comes fully to the forefront. He ducks past Genesis' attack and whacks him on the butt with the flat of his sword in admonishment - and then, for a good measure, kicks his feet from under him.

"Footing," he says lazily while Genesis sputters at him in outraged offence - once more on the floor. "You let your sword's weight lead you too much. I know the blade is heavy and willful and wants to get its way - but you are the one guiding the blade, it's not supposed to be leading you."

Genesis gapes at him. "What the hell are you talking about?!" 

They're not spiritual swords, not exactly, so… "May I?" he motions at Rapier.

Genesis glares at him warily and stands up. He shares a confused, incredulous look with Angeal and then flips Rapier over, holding it out handle first.

Shifting Masamune to his off hand and holding it out of the way behind his back, Sephiroth takes Rapier, tests the weight, and then assumes the posture Genesis led with.

"You might have the strength to swing this thing around however you will, but the laws of leverage are still in effect," he explains. "This is a very heavy sword, and unless you weigh considerably more than you look, it will mess with your balance if you don't counteract it. When you swing," he demonstrates, "right now you are stepping up to follow the swing and so you're taking out your base of balance. And so you trip."

Genesis just stares at him, face completely blank. 

"Now, from the beginning, properly this time," Shen Qingqiu continues and demonstrates. "Plant your feet. Bend your knees. The movement begins from your hips, not your hand. From your hip, up the torso, to your arm. Your knees follow and support the movement. Feet stay on the ground. And… swing."

He swings the Rapier, a sweeping attack fit to take someone's head off. "Now, if you have to adjust to an opponent's block or attack, you can, because your wrist is still neutral - see? Like this I can easily adjust the angle of my swing without losing my footing, or the power of the attack."

Angeal slowly joins them while Genesis is still just staring blankly. They're both staring.

Feeling suddenly like he'd overstepped, Sephiroth hands the Rapier back and clears his throat. "So, as I said, footing. It's the same with your thrust," he mutters, looking away. "Don't just throw your whole body behind it like an idiot."

Genesis accepts the broadsword back dully and looks at Angeal. There's a moment of tense silence, and Sephiroth kinda wants to sink into the floor.

Awkward.

-

Shizun mode, activated.

(also I know fuck all about swordsmanship, so don't look too deeply into that)

[whispering-radiance]

[Rc9gn OC] Goddess of Amber, creator of the Eye of Eternity |

Ladies, gentlemen and nonbinary folks, I’ve finally finished this introduction card for this gorgeous lady — Some of you might’ve already seen her on some of my drawings, but she didn’t have a proper introduction. As usual, you can read more in the section below : D

————————————————————————

Actually, the idea for this character popped to my head when I was rewatching some episodes, and I focused all my attention on the Eye of eternities. Like—woah! That’s a cool and important item, but … where did it come from? Like— it’s always “and the ninja had this magical stone and used it to do this and this” so he just had a powerful artifact in his back pocket? I didn’t question it 10 years ago, but now I have a power of imagination and ability to draw — So I played around with this concept

————————————————————————

As it’s written on the card, she’s the goddess of amber. Even though she’s one of the divine, she’s not really considered to be very powerful— and so she doesn’t really have lost of recognition anywhere.

As for her character— She has her own system and ways of doing things, she’s harsh and rarely accepts change. Things rarely catch her attention, only when something extraordinary happens, she will get interested.— And I get her, she’s old, very old— at some point you simply loose interest in the mundane, especially if you have seen it happen for thousands of years. Amber spends her days in solitude, away from noisy people and other gods — she prefers to focus all her energy on her craft rather than social interactions.

What she crafts? Well, mainly enchanted amber. With it she’s able to capture almost everything— but I’m not talking only about organic things— many essences can be kept in such form— Feeling, music, memories, spirit— It helps her relive the moments even from hundreds of years ago.

She’s also found of making jewelry— In the picture she’s holding a string of amber that will eventually become a necklace like this:

(My grandma has this bad boy— I have many found memories of playing with it)

————————————————————————

Amber met First Ninja on accident— After he was defeated by Tengu, he was badly injured and casted down from its mountain — Luckily his agonizing tumble ended in Amber’s garden— At first she was annoyed with the intruder, but seeing how he somehow survived all the suffering, sparked some attention towards him.

She patched him up and listened to his stories — Probably the tails of the sorcerer and the threat he posed, stirred something inside her— If chaos destroyed the land, she would lose her peaceful life.

So she helped him recover, and even taught him a few new moves. After defeating the Tengu she decided that she wants to preserve peace across whole land — finally she has found a new calling in her life.

—————————-

- I’ve tried looking into it, but I didn’t really find anything about the symbolism of the carp in the series— Seeing how it’s always connected with the Eye of Eternities— I might as well make a silly connection, that Carp is her symbol — Also, let me add this stupid fun fact — The sea in my country (Poland 🗣️‼️‼️)is known for its amber — So fish equals sea and that reminds me of amber.

- She probably looked less elegant while traveling and fighting with the Ninja, but I haven’t designed that yet

- When I’m referring to “Gods” or “Heavenly” I don’t have any of my characters in mind — I usually think about Japanese pantheon

—————————-

There are three words that might need some clarification, so here it goes:

- 古樹の女神 (Koju no Megami) - It roughly translates to “Goddess of Ancient trees” Amber starts as a sap from a tree, and takes some sweet time to form into its solid gem form. So this title is quite fitting

- 樹液 (Jueki) - It literally means sap — It’s kind of a pet name for her? Or a name you’d call your sweetheart— To be honest it’s only used by some of her closest friends— Others call her Amber or just refer to her as Lady.

- Naginata - is a polearm and one of several varieties of traditionally made Japanese blades (Wikipedia)

————————————————————————

“You’re putting a lot of work into characters for a teen show from 10 years ago”

Yeah— but it’s nothing compared to what I did for Generator Rex — Making characters and stories helps me enjoy the show 3x more!!

[ice-cap-k]

Please go on, I'd love to hear your thoughts about Dominion Shadow 🙏

Fair warning before I get into it, I like my science, biology, physics, etc. and I'm about to loosely apply those two subjects to minecraft, of all things. If you're not a fan of applying any of that sort of stuff to silly block men, consider this fair warning to click off now. I'm about to ramble. Seriously. Turn back now while you still can.

Still here?

Alright.

Law of Conservation of Mass says matter cannot be created or destroyed. Same's true with energy. When something withers like a plant, it's usually because as the cells making up the body die out, they lose moisture and the cellular structure collapses in on itself as the remaining mass is converted into decomposed tissue.

Wither skeletons are already decomposed and exist in the nether where moisture is near non-existent. It would make sense that their desiccated skin would sap moisture from the player at an extreme degree since water moves to the place of least concentration. In a pure vacuum, such as space, moisture leaves at an even faster rate because there are no other atoms in the atmosphere that would bombard the skin and slow that process down. Technically a body out in space could mummify considerably faster than it ever could in the desert on Earth.

Now, I'll admit I jumped on the Dominion train after it had ended, but Shadow his origin is a wither, and he kind of has an association with those void creatures once the blood moon appears. And void is associated with space in minecraft. Loosely. Obviously you can still breath in the End and whatnot, but with the star backdrop and the moonrock texture of the endstone, the parallels are intentional.

Wither as a sapping force, drawing moisture and life essence. Shadow's still alive. Still has a body, unlike a skeleton, so unlike a skeleton with bones that would grow denser as it saps the lifeblood right out of you, so too would Shadow's wither effect, but his is caused by an artificial vacuum created around his person like an aura as his body sucks up the atmosphere and gaseous water around it. And when a person gets close enough, say, close enough to touch, they hit that pocket of vacuum and suddenly they're caught and affected by it like that body in space.

BAM! Instant wither effect.

But like I said, Shadow's still alive. So what he's getting from that person is both their energy, and the mass he's absorbing that's carrying said energy. And as I mentioned in the last post, I picture Shadow as a big-ish guy, if not tall.

That's where gravity can come into play.

Because when something has more mass, it's gravitational force is greater.

People lose moisture, muscle mass, bone density, it's gotta go somewhere, right?

Yeah. Shadow gets it. And he becomes bigger. More moisture running through his veins as sickly black sludge, more muscle mass on his still living body, denser bones capable of handling intense shear and compressive stress, less likely to fracture and break under extreme duress.

It's led me to some really cool headcanons like, if Shadow withers too many people, absorbs too much, he gets bigger. Not, like, tall, but more mass to the point where it might hurt to walk. But also, it makes it easier for things to be drawn to him and his sphere of influence/vacuum larger around him as more air particles within the vicinity are trapped within the draw. And also, it would make it THAT much easier to wither anyone who comes close.

And like I said, I came to the party late, but I did hear that there was rumor of him playing into the Wither Storm concept. So I'd imagine, like a black hole, he could have simply kept growing and growing as his sphere of influence spread, things getting caught in his vacuum's event horizon, people getting hurt just walking by him, until he ultimately became an unstoppable force that was no longer capable of decaying back to the point of stability.

[hannahbarberra162]

Okay but what if BB Reader actually had A devil fruit? A blood related Devil fruit, cause listen the first time the draw and tests would have worked because they were there willingly to get their ankle checked but after that they are able to control if their blood gets drawn or not, they have that ability, even if they get an iv that dosen’t mean blood can be drawn unless they allow it. Now what would happen then? What would Marco do in this scenario?

Ooh paramecia blood blood fruit. I'm gonna tweak your scenario a little (sorry) for fun. I also don't think this answers your question lol. I think that Marco would lose patience for your foolishness quickly and punish you - either physically or psychologically. If you really persisted, I think you're looking at a long walk off a short plank (if it's Bad Marco).

Sharp talons dug into your throat as you looked into the face of one of the most infamous pirates on the Grand Line. You told your Captain you thought it was a bad idea to try to raid the Moby Jr, that even the smaller boat would have a stronger crew than your own. You Craptain (as you sometimes called him) ignored your suggestion and fired the cannons at the other vessel. So, you had to fight. And your crew lasted all of a minute and a half before you were destroyed. At least you’d have the honor of being killed by Marco The Phoenix, that was kind of a cool way to die. You didn’t close your eyes, wanting to face your death head on. Marco surveyed your body, tilting his head.

“Why aren’t you bleeding yoi?” You had eaten the Blood Blood fruit, which was alright. It wasn’t the strongest devil fruit, but it gave you some power. You could completely control your own blood, and manipulate the blood of others if you were able to touch them and they had an open wound. The last component made it not the best for offensive fighting, which is why you tended to use your own. 

“D-devil fruit, I can control blood” you coughed out, trying to shrug. Oh, your shoulder was shattered. Well, you’d be dying soon anyway. Marco’s eyes narrowed.

“Your own or someone else’s?” 

“Both. Mostly mine.” Marco smiled but it felt like a killing blow.

“What an interesting turn of events for both of us.” The talon gripping your neck released, instead gripping you roughly around the middle. Marco flew off the deck, with you hanging from his talons like a rag doll. Your body was wrecked - you couldn’t heal yourself, just control your blood. Marco dumped you onto the deck of the Moby Jr. You grunted, cradling your side where you could feel your broken ribs. You were barely conscious, holding on by a thread.

“What are the parameters of your devil fruit?” Marco asked, his talon holding your slumping body upright against the side of the deck. 

“Um, I can make any type of blood, heal blood, create more blood using my own, fight with it, I think that’s it.” You thought there was more, but your vision was tunneling. You hoped Marco killed you soon, you didn’t want it dragged out. Someone handed Marco handcuffs, which were placed around your wrists. Instantly, you knew they were sea stone, the last remnants of your energy sapped from you. Marco crouched over you, gripping your hair and pulling it until you looked at him. 

“Heal blood…you’re in luck. You’re not dying today.” Marco turned to someone else as your eyes shut. “Take them to the infirmary, don’t remove the cuffs. Paramecia type yoi. We have a new pet.”

[nomstellations]

A bunch of fairies healing a sick pred from within?

The Enigmawood was a sprawling forest filled with magic, mystery, and all manner of strange and unknown creatures. People rarely ventured to it, as those who wandered too deep never returned, and most settlements didn't put themselves too close to it out of superstition and fear.

Arice was currently regretting her decision to live right at its borders, with the closest town a few hours away. Much to her dismay, even the most cautious of witches get sick every once in a while!

She could easily whip up medicine for herself, but her illness sapped the strength from her body and left her unwilling to move. She laid in bed feeling feverish, drained, and too uncomfortable to sleep...maybe her pride had gotten the better of her in choosing to live here, but the benefits usually outweighed the drawbacks. Unable to continue her research in this state, she opted to stay put and conserve her energy until she could get up and mix medicine for herself. If only a breeze would blow through her window, it'd offer some relief from the heat she felt...

"Arice~!"

"Miss Silverwood?"

"Lady Ariceeee! We're here to play!"

What blew through was not a breeze, but a dusting of fairies. She knew them all- they were the first beings she befriended after moving here, and it turned out that the fairy population of the Enigmawood was largely friendly. They enjoyed hearing tales of the world outside, and they helped her find useful herbs in return for the time she spent with them. But today the witch was in no condition to entertain them as they fluttered in, all crowding around her face. She groaned quietly, not even opening her eyes to look at them.

"Miss...? You're all red like a ripe berry!" A fairy chirped, moving to touch her face and quickly drawing away from how warm it was. "Farro..." She mumbled, gently brushing the fairy away. "I can't play today, I'm sorry...I've gotten sick. I don't have the strength to..." Their normally bright glow dimmed, and they turned to the others for help.

"Sick...that's bad, right?" "Duh, Bellflower! This happens to humans a lot! They can die if they don't get better!" Tiny gasps fill the air. "H-how can we help! Do the Grandfae know anything about humans...?" The fairies tittered among themselves. Arice found the gesture sweet, but it was just a nasty cold. She wouldn't die, but it's not like she could bother to explain...the fairy dust that drifted from their wings felt nice and cool on her skin, so she wasn't about to complain.

"Hey, why don't we use magic? We can make it go away, I'm sure!" Farrow exclaimed, their glow brightening up. "We're so small, though...how's that going to change anything?" There was a few moments of silence before Arice could faintly pick out some tiny whispers. They were too small to really make out, but one of them finally spoke up and got her attention. "Lady Arice! We're going to use some magic on you, okay? Don't panic, it'll be safe!"

"Freak out...?"

Her questioning provided Farro with the perfect opportunity to leap into her mouth! Arice's eyes snapped open all of a sudden, shocked by the fairy's quick movement. Too stunned to spit them out, they wriggled to the back of her throat, triggering her body's response to swallow. Farro easily slid down her gullet, with a cooling sensation making their descent felt. "Wh- what are you all doing...?" It was enough to shock her hazy mind, but it was too late for her to try and spit them out now. "My turn~ Think of this as a favor, miss!"

Bellflower was next, wriggling in with a bit of effort. She had a more sweet flavor compared to Farro, but...was she really considering the flavor of her fairy friends? She was too weak to really resist being fed like this, so it didn't take long for the next one to be sent down with a thick gulp. That left Thistle, the largest of the group, almost shyly rubbing their arm. "I think Farro's idea was kind of dumb...but we do want to help you. We'll be alright, so don't worry."

They waited patiently, waiting for Arice to open her mouth, and after a few moments she did. The fairies in her stomach seemed to be doing something, as a cool and almost tingly sensation spread through her body. Maybe this was the magic they planned on using? Whatever it was, it was chasing away her fever...so she felt she could trust this plan of theirs. Allowing Thistle to crawl inside, they were a lot more careful than the others with feeding themselves to her. They waited until she was ready, letting her take a few swallows to work them down her throat.

Arice felt full. Looking down, she could see a faint glow coming from her stomach. The magic only grew stronger as the last fairy filled her stomach, making her finally feel relaxed and comfortable. She didn't need to worry about eating for now, either...she swore she could hear one of their voices asking for her, but now with a full belly her fatigue was hitting her full force. She'll have to thank them properly...after this long-awaited nap.

[gunmetal-ring]

anon again. i'm sorry that i keep coming to you with this depressing messages but you seem like one of the few sane ppl in this fandom and i appreciate your honesty.

truth is im feeling really disillusioned with hellcheer lately. we don't have a lot of "canon" content so after a while, it gets tiring going thru the same 2 scenes over and over again (especially when one of them involves chrissy's death). ive been relying on fandom but it seems like it's slowed down. fics arent updated as frequently, not a lot of new artwork.

heck, even joe and grace have moved on. joe's career is taking off. grace is leaving acting. it just feels like everything that happened last summer has come to an end :(

Aw anon thats okay. Ty for thinking of my feelings though 💓 (and also im flattered that you think im sane lmao)

Unfortunately its the way things go, especially with small ships, especially especially in a fandom as hostile as this one is. People come together and build community and share their love for characters and then g(r)o(w) their separate ways again.

But not everybody does! You and me, for example. And ive got plenty of hellcheer mutuals that seem perfectly content to draw, write, and rb their little hearts out.

I for one am absolutely astounded that theres even a fandom for hellcheer, let alone one with such talent and breadth and depth of love! Our characters had 2 scenes. Our girl was killed just as it all began. Our boy died with her name on his lips. In all likelihood we will never see them together on our screens again.

But somehow. Those ~10 minutes managed to foster an entire community of people and keep us engaged and in love w the characters for almost a year at this point! With no dangling promises or false hope or anything! Like we all know the score and we still go hard for hellcheer. Incredible.

Idk maybe it's just bc ive only had brainworms like this for 2 other ships and 1 of them is even smaller and the other one is a clusterfuck of unimaginable proportions, so im a little biased in terms of community/fandom, but im just like... idk. I think its really incredible thats all. And a testament to the very real power and truth of hellcheer 🥰

All i can say anon is that the best way to keep a fandom/ship going is engagement. Likes on tumblr and kudos on ao3 are great. But whats even better and more motivating (and i say this as a fic writer/meme shitposter so im speaking the total truth lol) is reblogs and comments. Tell people how much you love their work and how much it means to you, it goes a very long way. And on the flip side of that - stay out of the infighting. All it does is sap your mental energy and the fandom infighting bullshit is a major contributor to why people leave. The negativity and bitterness warp your perspective and make it really hard to remember what we're here for - it's not anti-st*ddie or anti-qu*nn stans or anti-anti-hellcheer or what the fuck ever. We're here for hellcheer!

Sorry my $0.02 is now $2.00 bc i ramble lol its a fatal flaw of mine. Anyway im sorry if this is annoyingly positive or dismissive but im in a strangely upbeat mood rn so there you have it

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen

The windows of Ida’s life drawing studio are wide open that evening, the sweet smell of the late April breeze filling the room as dusk thickens into night and a bird or two softly chirps on the electrical lines over Thomas Street. Fingers dusted with charcoal, I sift through a large pile of figure drawings, laying them out on the floor in front of me and staring down at them. Methodically I pick out the ones that aren’t quite there, earlier work with less confidence, less consideration, obvious mistakes, and lay them in a pile to the side. Ida wants the final portfolio to contain twelve pieces of my best work. This is my very last chance to get it right. 

Behind me, Dean, with freshly shorn dark brown hair, hangs halfway out the window with a cigarette in his mouth. I’ve told him that he should go outside if he wants to smoke, seeing as the custodian caught him at it last week and gave him a formal warning, but Dean doesn’t really like to listen lately. To the custodians or to me.  

He’s been checked out in recent weeks, ever since his aunt called the guards on his brother Darren again, only this time they actually arrested him for entering a building with intent to commit an offence, and now he has to go to court. I think he was trying to make away his dad’s old TV or a stereo system or something. I can’t really remember. We weren’t together when he got that phone call, but the next time I saw Dean it was like somebody had flipped off a switch behind his eyes, he’d been deep fried from the inside, and I have the most intense urge to help him, but he’s made it difficult to be around him. 

He’s got this intensely spiky energy, sprung tightly like he’s ready to jump on the first person whose face doesn’t look the way he wants it to when he speaks to them, and he’s carrying that same severity with him today, his being almost vibrating with animosity towards the world as he gazes over the street beneath him. 

“Have you had a look at your work?” I venture, and he doesn’t look at me. I have this sudden intrusive image of him losing balance on the low, narrow windowsill and tumbling headfirst into the traffic. 

“I tried.” He says flatly. 

I stand up and wipe my hands on my old jeans. His work is lying in this big, dogeared pile in the centre of the room, some of it flattened out but most of it still in rolls with elastic bands holding them together, because when he got here he only managed to sort through it for five minutes before he surrendered and announced that he needed a cigarette. I reach gingerly for one of the rolls. “I can help you if you want, I’m almost done with my own work at this stage.”

His eyes drift lazily to mine as he exhales a lungful of smoke sideways out of his mouth. “Don’t bother, it’s fine.”

“Okay.” I say. I place the roll of drawings back where I found it and walk back over to my own stuff, but I haven’t yet given up on trying to converse with him. “I’m sorry about having to cancel work this week, that’s a real pity. These deadlines are so rough.”

“Mmm.”

“Probably quite nice not to have to work for once though, isn’t it?”

“Quite nice to have a payslip though.” He responds, and I try my best not to let his tone make me feel like I’m stupid for having said what I did. 

“I’m sure you’ll make that money back again.” I say cheerfully. “Once this is all over and you’re rested up you can work a few extra shifts in the summer.”

“Yeah I probably will do that.”

I glance at him nervously, the streetlight casting a rim light of orange light on the sharp profile of his face and force myself not to read into the hostility radiating from him like a nuclear reactor. He’s been difficult lately, sure, but tonight is the worst he’s been so far, but it makes me feel bad for him. He’s not been very forthcoming with the exact details of the Darren situation, nor have I felt comfortable enough to ask him, so I just assume the worst. I sense that he’s marinating in it, letting it sap all of his energy from him, and I yearn for the power to rescue him from it, even for a few moments. 

I decide to experiment with theoreticals to see if I can get the conversational ball rolling. “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where do you think you’d go?”

“You think I could afford that?”

“Well, like, if you suddenly had loads and loads of money and you could go anywhere. What’s your bucket list?”

“Dunno, I never left Ireland.”

“Not even once?”

He gives me a semi-threatening side-eye. “No.”

“Well, my housemate Claire travels every year. Her parents invested in a holiday home in Cyprus during the boom, and every year they go for a few weeks and just lay out in the sun. She and her boyfriend are going once their exams are over, I think it sounds so lovely.”

 Dean crushes out his cigarette in response. I get down onto the ground and anxiously thumb through my work, the tips of my ears getting hot. 

“Yeah, nice to be rich, I’d say.” He says eventually.

I attempt a carefree laugh but it sounds humourless and hollow. “I was talking to a friend about this recently, actually. What do you think you’d do for a million euro?”

“A million?”

“Yeah.”

“How would I ever get a million euro unless I robbed a bloody bank?”

“No, like, how far would you go? What’s the worst, non-illegal thing you’d do for that kind of money?”

“Oh. I dunno. I never thought about it.”

“Okay, well, how about this. Would you rather eat a cereal bowl full of worms for a million euro, or sit in a bath full of worms for a month for a billion euro?” I smile at the memory of my conversation with Jude on this particular topic, how we’d discussed the exact circumstances of the conundrum, the hilarious shriek laugh he’d done as he uttered Wait, the worms can slither up where?

Dean, however, doesn’t think it’s funny at all, and peers at me disdainfully over his shoulder. “What a stupid question.” He says roughly. “Why would I ever have to think about something like that?”

“For the game.” I explain. “It’s like, you have to pick one of the outrageous options and then you get your fictional reward. That’s the fun o-” I trail off when he rolls his eyes and, feeling embarrassed, turn back towards what I’m doing and let the curtain of my hair fall over my face to block myself from view. 

When silence falls between us, I feel like there’s a physical barrier that I can’t cross. It’s always been there, like he’s always wanted to keep me at an arm’s length but lately it’s been impossible not to notice. It’s obvious, he thinks that I’m childish, he knows I can never understand him and he resents it.

It’s several minutes before he even moves again, and then slowly he gets off the windowsill and finally starts poking through his work. I’m careful not to look at him in case I spook him, and stay focussed on myself. I begin slotting my twelve best drawings into the plastic sheets in my portfolio case, but after a while I can’t resist a glance towards what he’s doing. 

He stands over two pieces, deliberating, eyes flitting back and forth between them and lower lip caught in his teeth as he tries to decide which one he likes better. I clear my throat gently. “I think the one on the right is amazing. If I had to choose one it’d be that.” His eyes swipe to me with ferocity and I instantly regret opening my mouth. “I didn’t ask for input.”

My breath hitches. “I know, I was just-”

“I don’t know why I have to keep telling you that I don’t want your help, Evie. What don’t you get? I want to be left alone.”

“Sorry.”

He starts pacing back and forth over his work. “What difference did you think that comment’d make anyway? Like, am I meant to trust your judgement or something? As if you know what you’re even talking about?”

“I-”

“Your work is fine, but it’s not great. You know it. You get everything done quickly and you hand everything in at the right time but you rush absolutely everything and it always comes out real sloppy, you don’t ever put real time into making your work look good.”

I feel like he’s knocked the wind out of me, and I sit on the floor in shock. “That’s horrible.” I say, tears springing to my eyes. “I was trying to be nice to you.”

He sees the look on my face and immediately throws his head back, turning away from me in disgust. “Oh God, why are you so sensitive about everything? You can’t just take criticism.” 

“That’s not criticism, that’s purposefully mean.”

“Can’t I just be honest about anything without worrying about this?” He spins around and throws his hand up at me. “You getting upset about things, taking everything so personally, God. You make me so tired.”

“If you don’t want me here then I’ll just go.”

He sighs. “For God’s sake, you’re such a child, everything is always drama with you.”

“I’m being serious! If you can’t stand having me here then I’ll leave! There’s no drama about it, you’re being awful, that really hurts my feelings.” I watch how my words just bounce off him with no effect, and it only serves to make me feel more useless than I already do. I can’t even hurt him back. He just shrugs nonchalantly. “Alright then leave. I really don’t care, I’m too busy for this conversation anyway.”

My hands are fumbling as I zip up my portfolio case and roll my unused drawings back up into a tube, but he just saunters around the room like I’ve already left, gazing intently at the drawings on the floor. He doesn’t even look up to mutter a goodbye to me as I tear out into the hallway with my lip trembling and tears blurring my vision.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[inksandpensblog]

Hey Inks, this is Tulipsempai, hope you are doing alright today^^

I wanted to simply say thank you are of your comments on my comics, especially those for my series. I do have a lot of comments on them, but it feels somewhat nice to have longer ones like yours.

It feels like my work is worth to be analysed and that for me is a big compliment, especially with the amount of thought I put in my stories. They always cheer me up whenever Im doubting in my skill as a storyteller.

I'm lacking of words to express how grateful I am for you to take the time to write me these comments. Thank you óvò

I hope one day I will have the capacity, the energy and the time to read your stories, and to be able to articulate my thoughts into words to say how much your stories affected me.

I know actions mean more than words, but that's all I can do for the moment.

Have a good day ^^

Good day to you, Tulip!

I think writing a thoughtful message like this qualifies as being both action and word. Because you're right: reading and absorbing comics and stories, analyzing them, and articulating those thoughts into a comment does take time and energy.

When artists and writers put so much thought into works like those, it can sometimes take a lot of thought for viewers to figure out what it is about the art that resonates so strongly.

I want to give back to those artists and writers what I get out of their art, but quite honestly it isn't always within my capacity to do so. It's why I don't do long analytical comments like that regularly, and it's why it can take me such a long time to read or watch other people's stories and analysis.

Art is a passion, but art is also work. The crafting of art is work. Engaging with art is work. Creating and comprehending art can be fun and enjoyable, it can be worth the effort, but it is still work, and work takes time and energy. If you're passionate about your work, it will fuel you; but that same work still takes your energy, and if you're being fueled and sapped by the same force then that's just a feedback loop.

All this is to say: I'm really glad you get something out of the analytical commentary I have for your stories, and I wish I could offer it more consistently. You write really compelling characters and conflicts, and you draw amazing scenes. You've earned the acclaim, and it's rare that I feel I can actually express the full extent of my appreciation and admiration for you and your artwork. So I completely understand that you'd need time, energy, and opportunity in order to return the favor.

Until then, just knowing that you want to is enough ^_^

[tmos-time]

hi, I've always loved your erisol work!!! You have such a lovely way of drawing a softer Eridan, and I love how you draw Sollux's flicked out hair!

I saw a post where you mentioned voidrot, could you please explain it, or possibly link to the information?

I imagine it was explained in the games, but whooo boy (please imagine me leaning against a wooden saloon bar) that is igniting some motivation for writing some erisol that I haven't had in a long time, if it is what I can only assume from your beautiful artwork it might be 8D

AWWW this is so sweet of you to say anon <33 or should i say (and please imagine me cleaning out a saloon glass with a rag) a mighty fine thing for you to say anon LOL

you are right that its in the games; it's mentioned in (kuprum and) folykl's friendsim route!

--Now that you’re closer, you notice that Folykl doesn’t actually have eyes. It looks both creepy and painful. [...] KUPRUM: >LOL KUPRUM: >goddamn idiot doesnt know a case of voidrot when they see it KUPRUM: >have you never met a goldblood before FOLYKL: voidrot means     my body doesn’t    retain energy like it’s    supposed to  FOLYKL: just look it up    on goregle FOLYKL: it means     i’m dying    constantly          all the time

and to be honest, besides the added bit that folykl saps psionic energy, i don't believe anything else has been said on this! for me, this was mainly a confirmation that blind sollux is supposed to have physically lost his eyes after the infamous murderstuck duel; it could turn out that voidrot occurs any time a psionics eyes go out, or it could be a different situation entirely in sollux's case, but its clear that folykl is tied very close to sollux in how she's been made to flesh out the gold caste worldbuilding. i mean, fuck, look at her concept art, that is the most "this is just sollux again" troll i have ever seen LOL. if she physically has no eyes, its a pretty solid case that sollux is intended to physically not have eyes while blind too

regardless; i like sticking to my guns and like to headcanon that a blinded sollux is not necessarily a sollux with voidrot; i think he has to keep a balance on regulating his power usage to not get psionic build up or psionic burn out, and if he burns out he can't see until his body naturally builds up his energy stock again. i think it just fits nicer! makes him going half blind feel a lot more easy to wrap around for my head at least; for ME, i'd think you'd expect sollux's dead eye to be a lot brighter if its just ghost eye light letting him sort of see again not being held in a physical eyeball, instead of his eyeball just suddenly coming back lol

either way; its fun worldbuilding to play with! it gives sollux a bit of a natural re-balancing to how damn powerful he is as a psionic if he really has to watch to not injure himself as much as any physical weight lifter

[acr3ss-the-cosmos]

I'm exhausted

I'm going to be completely candid and say that I've been pretty much in survival mode for the last few months. There's been many rough nights where I've just been so frustrated because my daughter won't sleep for more than 2 1/2 hours at a time, and sometimes we have no choice but to have her held so she can actually sleep longer. Nothing we try to do to help her sleep through the night seems to work at all. Some days are better than others, but it just feels like the minimal sleep overshadows even the best of times.

Writing and drawing are some of the few things that help me to cope and get through these times, but I hardly find the time to even do those anymore because so much of my mental energy has just been drained out of me. My husband does make an effort to give me dedicated time to draw, but he works full-time over the week, so the only chance I really get to draw is on the weekends, but by the time it rolls around my energy is just sapped and I then end up not drawing anything.

I love my daughter oh so much, and the daytimes are fine for the most part, great even, but I absolutely hate how it feels like I'm being robbed of a lot of the joy I could be having of being her parent. I have such a hard time regulating my own emotions, and then I end up feeling guilty for getting angry and frustrated when I know none of it is her fault. Just this morning I just laid in my bed and sobbed and hyperventilated from all the stress and lack of sleep. This pretty much never happened to me to this degree before I had her.

.. . I'm sorry for this extra long vent, but I just wanted to let you all know where I'm at in my life.

[illarian-rambling]

Olive, for the green ask game?

[OLIVE - What keeps them up at night?]

Honestly, none of my characters are sleeping soundly, so I'll go down the list.

Izjik: She's scared to sleep because of the dreams End sends her. Dreams where she razes temples to the ground and drinks the blood of gods like fine wine. It isn't the carnage that frightens her so much as how wonderful it all feels.

Sepo: Mans has killed a lot of people. Mans is also dealing with a crisis of faith. I think many times when he closes his eyes, he's reminded of his sneak preview of the hell that Lamsara Hedandros has waiting for him.

Twenari: Less dark on this one, Twenari just stays up late studying magic. Yeah, she gets nightmares, but mostly magic is just really cool, so she forgets that she needs to sleep.

Djek: Owing to his street kid background, Djek’s a light sleeper to begin with. He and Sepo shared a room for the time skip between book 1 and 2, so the pair of them stayed up talking on many a night.

Astra: She just has regular insomnia. She uses a sort of folk remedy to treat her adhd and that makes it hard for her to sleep too. But when she's out, though, it takes a thunderstorm to wake her.

Mashal: He can't sleep because he's a robot now. Sleeping is probably one of the things he misses the most. Usually, he just draws during the night or tries to meditate.

Ivander: Curse pain makes everything difficult, including sleeping, no matter how much it saps his energy to begin with. His bed at home has the smoothest silk sheets money can buy, but that only helps so much when half your skin is transmuted into mist.

Thanks for the ask :)

[straycalamities]

Are you gonna update Entre’s blog any time soon (and answer any asks? 😈)

i wish but my job saps pretty much all my energy these days. i probably get to draw like two things a month and right now my fixations are elsewhere

i still want to and i dont want his blog to like die or anything but there's not rly anything i can do for now

the morale is really bad in the workplace so its been even more draining than usual for months so in my free time after work or my days off im pretty much mainly resting and recuperating before another work day drags me away 😩

[gridzdoodle]

Hey gang guess what it’s more portal oc lore infodump (with doodles!)

This time it’s the different timelines in James’ canon, on account of multiverse and everything. Just realized I didn’t include it in my main post abt him so now here goes

Timeline 1: the true ending

- faithful to the story I put in the main lore post, works in aperture, gets uploaded into the machine, ect.

- it’s what happens after that is what matters

- so he’s in the machine, but it ‘doesn’t work’, however it becomes apparent that there is indeed a consciousness in there, just one that’s forgotten every personal detail

- but upon further testing it becomes clear that the Human Intelligence and Memory Synthesizer does still possess James’ intelligence, and might be of use after all

- The scientists make the decision to keep HIMS operational, at least until GLaDOS is finished

- And then she is! But now HIMS really has no use, and on top of that is a horrible energy sap. So when it’s boarded up with the rest of Test Shaft 9, no one bats an eye.

- James and his machine’s circuits fire one last time cold and alone in the far depths of Aperture Science.

- this one is the base storyline, not much to say about it

- yk how portal stories Mel and portal revolution has endings that explained away why, by the end of those mods, it all just lead to portal 2 happening anyway? This is basically that ending

Timeline 2: The ‘good’ ending

- Everything is exactly the same as the true ending, except that last bullet point

- in this one he doesn’t die alone! Yay!

- He gets found by Chell and glados during chapter 7 ish

- uhh I don’t really have this one fleshed out tbh it’s not my favorite one

- maybe he has a memory regaining arc like glados?

- yeah, this one exists

Timeline 3

- Yep this is the one that was only made for oc x canon with doug guilty

- so let’s go all the way back to 1985, James hasn’t begun building HIMS, and we’re still in ‘mandatory employee testing’ aperture

- James goes to do proto-long fall boot testing, but apparently they still had some kinks to work out :/ he twists his leg weird which isn’t exactly ideal

- However this presents a great opportunity to test the effects on long term relaxation on physical injuries! So after they get the bones and stuff roughly back in the right place, into the vault he goes, they want to go for six months to find the effects

- …

- James wakes up quite a while later. Alone. Or he thinks so, until he sees, until he finds a man fiddling with the room power. And he’s carrying a cube?

- so now there are two scientists who survived BYDTWD! They decide to team up in the escape effort (and maybe kiss idk)

- basically all Doug + James content happens in this timeline

Timeline 3.5: BYDTWD

[no pic :( ]

- instead of this being a ‘true ending’ offshoot, this one is a Timeline 3 offshoot!

- so he’s testing, put in long term relaxation, yap yap yap

- but this time he gets woken up a little earlier; just in time for 2003 Bring Your Daughter To Work Day.

- I think you can guess why this is the shortest turn of events.

- it ain’t much but it sure is fun to draw!