#gif asks

[golden-berry]

Your fiddlestan art gives me life,I made a whole ass mnemonic about them for my chemistry exam this morning 😭

I love them!

And- wait what is the mnemonic!! Share with the class!!!

[tibbycaps]

Beautiful abstract painting. goodbye you stupid fruit

[jaal-ama-daravv]

You’ve done the deep dives, and considered a good number of elements in your study of Emmrich’s romance… so my question is… for a romanced Emmrich, of course…

At the point of making the decision, if Emmrich was making it autonomously, would he choose to remain mortal or become a Lichlord?

And why?

When I read this at 6:00am yesterday I sat like this for a good 20 minutes before passing out, contemplating -

And I think I have an answer for you.

Romanced Rook

With a romanced Rook, I think (and yes of course a developer, and RPG decision, but outside of that -) a romanced Rook x Emmrich and this decision is actually an important part of their dynamic. We think back to the graveyard scene, the one where you can discuss lichdom and commit to his romance. He specifically states that he will inform Rook before making any decision and gather their input, as Emmrich will consider a romanced Rook a 'close family member'.

I believe Emmrich is also looking for that validation. We know how 'fast' a romanced Emmrich and Rook can progress in their relationship because they are perceived outside of their relationship to be two fools in love. I think Emmrich is asking Rook as a form of, what do I do? What are you okay with? I think Emmrich may believe that Rook knows him better than he knows himself at that point in time. Rook mirrors his fears too. Emmrich has a fear of death, Rook a fear of failure.

All in all i think Emmrich seeks out Rook's advice because he loves them and I think that's important.

The Decision

This is quite a difficult decision, but if we look at the dialogue during each choice in that scene, I believe if Emmrich was making the decisons autonomously, he would choose mortality. I say this because when you choose lichdom as Emmrich's decision path, the reasoning for choosing it is "you are well equipped to deal with lichdom emmrich". I beg your finest pardon but in what universe is he well equipped. He did not in a mere FEW HOURS, get over the fear death. He could barely hold up the lantern untill Rook encouraged him and manfred showed him what courage is. I think pure love and courage that was shown to him would factor into his own decision. Additionally, if you choose the mortal decision of resurrecting manfred, he requires far less 'convinving' and Rook offers simple guidance, "oh ya know things maight be easier: compared to "youre well equipped do it".

All in all, I think he would, in his decision, choose mortality. Simply because Emmrich has his life now, his family, and he can see that. You can see that in the final boss fight with Hezenkoss. He chose to be courageous. Lichdom was his way to escape his fears, not transcend them in the name of love.

[mossiistars]

MARTIN K BLACKWOOD 💥💥💥💥

MARTIN K BLACKWOOD 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

You can't fight the homestuck ::::)

[collegetennisoriginstory]

tried to romance all the ROs for shits n giggles cause i naturally assume i love harems cause i love attention. but then the party came n my actions had consequences OUUU I FELT SICK IMMEDIATELT TURNED OFF MY DEVICE TO START NEW SAVE FILES FOR INDIVIDUAL SAM TOBIN RAYYAN ROUTE ON THEIR OWN. like the guilt was so STEONG i felt visibly ill

BAHAHA oh my goodness.

Shit and giggles turned into true horror.

[daily-slugpup]

4388 using pups+ and rainbow pups looks like a echo but rivulet

I hadn't thought of combining pups+ and rainbow pups before now, they look really cool!

Without rainbow pups they look like rivulet with pink gills, meaning the gill color is also affected by the rainbow pups mod!

[would-you-punt-them]

Blood type reveal when

— 🧛

My blood type?

THE BLOOD OF JESUS

PERISH, CREATURE OF THE NIGHT

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Ghosts - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Vi finds connections between past and future...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx's room, though. That's a different story.

Vi pushes the door inward. The hinges creak. Pale greenish matchsticks of light fall through the widening gap. They strike the mobiles of scrap-metal and colored glass hanging from the ceiling. Fractals of hypnotic blue and pink dance everywhere.

In the shifting ambiance, Vi makes out the room's dimensions. A vanity, a wardrobe, a chaise and a desk. The bed's an extravagant four-poster fit for a princess: all curlicued brasswork and flounced trimmings. The sort of bed Vi and Powder used to dream about as little girls, staring awestruck at old Piltie glossies scrounged from the junkyard.

Except there's a sad, abandoned quality to the fittings: pillows jammed against the headboard, sheets stirred into restless disarray, stuffed animals taking refuge under the mattress. 

It's as if the owner's been snatched from slumber in the middle of the night.

Or swallowed by her own nightmares.

Vi steps inside. Her bare feet sink into the plush rugs. Between her toes, there's a ticklish layer of dust. The room, colorfully cozy, is nonetheless steeped in neglect. Either Jinx hasn't spent much time here the last few days, or Silco's staff have orders not to intrude.

Both, Vi guesses.

Crossing inside, she can't help but stop to pick up the sheeny black leather jacket, dumped in a heap on the carpet, and straighten it. It's the same one her sister routinely sloughs off in her frenetic pacing through the Aerie's corridors. The weave of the silk lining is redolent of chemicals. The acrid whiff of gunpowder, the piercing bite of turpentine, the waxy fug of crayons—all overlaid by the musk of a wild night out.

Yet beneath the olio of adult grime, a sweet, soft note persists.

Eau de Urchin.

A pang of longing seizes Vi's heart. She lifts the jacket, burying her face in its folds. The scent that fills her nostrils is pure Powder. Redolent; unmistakable. For the briefest moment, the years fall away. Powder is in her arms, her heartbeat is music against Vi's ribs, and the world's a safe place.

It's a wish, and Vi holds on to it with every fiber of her being.

Then she sneezes, and the moment shivers away. 

Laying the jacket aside, she refocuses on the room. It's a Jinxian miscellany: cluttered, crammed, kaleidoscopic. But also nothing like Jinx at all.

In Vi's mind, she'd conjured a tiny replica of the Aerie. A hotbox of destruction, filled to the rafters with lethal gizmos. A mirror, in short, of Jinx's psyche: distorted and dangerous and dazzling.

Instead, she's fallen into a time-warp. The décor is a mishmash of hard-edged glamor and girlish whimsy: pastel plushies warring with bold posters of sultry-eyed cabaret stars; an antique dollhouse next to a pair of neon-pink go-go boots; a rosy little lampshade offset by a skull-themed lava lamp.

And the walls.

Good gods, the walls.

Every square inch is plastered with pictures. Many are Powderish crayon drawings, exuberantly signed with a monkey motif. Others are Jinxian marvels, surreally skewed. The subject-matter is a grab-bag: comic book heroines kicking ass and flaunting cleavage, cute little animals cannibalizing each other, fiendish caricatures of chem-barons reduced from bloodthirsty tyrants to fawning buffoons.

There is also a riot of photographs. The sort that'd give Caitlyn's forensics team a conniption. Plenty are polaroids Jinx obviously snapped as she'd stalked the streets, their backgrounds murky with the suggestion of flaming wrecks, smoking guns and dead men. Vi imagines she kept a record of her most prolific heists, back when she'd been Silco's top gun, and the Lanes had quaked in terror at the mere mention of her name.  Others, more innocuous, are a potluck of the crew—Ran, Lock, Dustin and sometimes a shadowed Sevika—in moments of hilarity, brutality, or simple, undistilled banality: target practicing with beer-bottles, ghoulishly lit with neon during poker games, posing like big game hunters with oversized trophies of squid at the harbor or sump-vole at the Deadlands.

In all, there's a dysfunctional joie-de-vivre. Not family, but the camaraderie born from different lives bound by a single cause.

Not, Vi senses, that Jinx cares.

Each photo, badly angled, imprecise, speaks of a childish ardency to be included in the fun, even as she's excluded from the frame. The crew's not her focal point; nor is the cause. Only a bone-deep dread of being left behind.

Then there's Silco.

Silco, Silco, Silco.

His presence dominates the walls. Even in the smallest scrap of artwork bears his imprint. A set of mismatched eyes coalescing from a cloud of stinging-red ink. Somber graphite slashes of a scarred profile in chiaroscuro. Impressionistic smears of an upturned collar, a pristine cravat, a long-fingered hand. In one, he's a long-legged sprawl on a throne of skulls. In another, an elegant silhouette by a window. In a third, a floating shadow at sea, the city rising up to engulf him like teeth.

A man, a monster. Sometimes both.

But always, always there.

In the photographs, his face is never in full focus. He's a blur of movement, half-turned away, or angled just out of reach. A trick of shadow, a distortion of light. In the rare instances Jinx captures his face, his expression seems caught in a series of fractured emotions: a grimace of annoyance, an unguarded frown, the tail end of a smile.

It's as if he's trying to escape from his own portrait. And Jinx, in turn, is trying to hold him in place. To capture a single, solitary truth, in a single, solitary moment.

It never works. Silco always slips away.

Except once.

It's a photostrip, like from a booth at the carnival. Four squares, two bodies. Jinx, plainly perched on Silco's knee, her arms passed around his neck. Her eyes are sparkly as lit fuses; her smile is ravenously wide. In her embrace, Silco is more subdued. He sits, not idly slouched but straightbacked, as if to keep their faces on a level. In the first square, he's plainly irritated to be there. His expression is walled-off, the shark-eye a chilled blank.  In the next, something in his temperature shifts, so infinitesimal that Vi wouldn't have caught it if not for the contrast between the frozen frames. A softening of the good eye, a thawing of the bad. By the third, his arm's encircling the slipping weight of Jinx's giggling body, as if to keep her from falling. By the fourth, their heads come closer, temple-to-temple, and he's smiling.

Smiling.

It's a gut-shock, that smile. Not the smile of a schemer biding his time, or a monster slinking through the dark. It's a smile of simple, unqualified human happiness, stolen from a man unwilling to be caught off-guard but unable to resist the thrill.

And it's not Silco's smile.

Not entirely. There's something about the curve of his lips, the way it softens the eerie luminosity of his shark-eye, and melts the scarred angles of his face, that's so familiar it hurts. Vi's seen that smile before. Seen it refracted through the lens of a whiskey glass in dreams, and split into a swarm of flaming facsimiles in nightmares.

It's Blut's smile.

And Jinx's, mirroring, is Powder's.

[zerosuitsammi3]

Hey sammi, at your age you should really start thinking about having children.

Btw my name is Lilith and I make for an excellent daughter.

Mommy's a lil sweaty from work, maybe clean me up with your tongue lil girl.

[miyoriia]

*rotates rabbits in your askbox*

spinyy :D

[golden-berry]

OH MY GOD I JUST SAW THE LATEST COMIC AND I'M GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

scrungly heartbroken fidds, lordy the way you write ford's dialogue is uncannily in character and never fails to crack me up, stan showing up with his "'bout to get a hot date tonight ;D" earrings, and then him acting like that damn tex avery wolf when he sees fidds IT'S ALL TOO PRECIOUS I CANTTT

Heheheh thank you~ and omg I had to animate Stanley doing it!!

[charlott2n]

yaaayyyyy 😁😁😁🦌

[kcamberart]

I love the artwork for Vollema. How did you decided on this style? Was it purposeful or accidental?

Thank you! I try to do something slightly different style-wise with each of my games, so I experimented quite a bit back when Vollema was just in the "game that only exists in my head" stage of being. There was a very short phase when I wanted to try out pixel art for it, since that was something I wanted to practice more at the time, but I thought it turned out too generic and honestly pretty... ugly.

So that idea went in the bin.

I tried out a few more styles to see if anything really worked for the vibe I knew I wanted, and then at one point I just kind of doodled a really tiny Saffron with my favorite brush settings, and something clicked in my head. I cleaned it up a little, colored it with a simple gradient (I'll tell you a secret, coloring is my least favorite part of the 2D art process. Love drawing the lines, hate filling them in), and ended up really really liking the result.

After I got the general look for the sprites figured out, I did a whole bunch of testing in-engine to determine what exactly I wanted to do for the environments. I tend to like the shadeless/unlit look for a lot of my projects, so I worked with that for a while.

But I felt that having actual lighting and shadows really elevated the look of the game. Made the world seem more like a diorama, which was exactly what I was going for at that point.

... So basically, a lot of trial and error got us here!

[louisferrignojr]

i've been shipping buckjosh for years i can't believe i never thought of adding tommy into that. especially post breakup. you guys are geniuses.

literally only just subscribed to the buckjosh agenda for the post break up friendship that turns into rebound sex. throw some “tommy and josh had a on-again off-again sort-of situ-relationship from which neither man walked away unscarred” in there? there is so much to play around with 👀