@adorablebanite I don't think I can take a picture that does the size of this absolute unit justice
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There is something exciting about the idea of someone's first event being War of the Wings. What a way to sink or swim with the SCA.
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"It's Christmas Eve, so ya get ta open one present! An' normally I'd let ya pick which one, but I insist ya open dis one!"
And she shoved a large box covered in shiny metallic green paper and done up with an elaborate red bow. Inside was a heavy-duty laptop and several games to occupy him when he didn't feel like exploring outside.
Tomorrow, she'd be giving him a phone so he could contact her wherever she was.
((Late but I've been busy so you'll forgive me right? Lol.))
"Oh. For me then?" He says it with curiosity.
And the smallest bit of shame.
Cicero was used to being the one spoiling. Never the spoiled. It wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy these things that she did for him, but it was out of his comfort zone. He knew she could tell. More and more he felt... inadequate. And Cicero has never been inadequate in his entire life.
The shiny and pristine box is a little heavy. And almost too beautiful to open.
But he does, hands carefully tearing through the paper. Reveling in the way it feels and sounds when it shreds.
Inside is what is labelled as a 'laptop computer'. Cicero has seen computers before. Never really been all that great with them. An odd gift, but perhaps there is hidden meaning behind it.
The games, he looks over one by one. They have pictures that vary. They kinda resemble holotape covers. When you can find em.
"Hmm. These are for me? You're sure? I've.... never really played with computers before. Usually when I have problems with them, I pay someone to open them for me."
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why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?
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when 2022 me thought it would be fun to draw stede with a beard and a silly little curled up mustache and start calling him steard for the fun of it
AND NOW IT'S REAL
THEY DID IT
MY CREATION.
IT IS REAL. HOLY FUCK
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Almost done with my kids' birthday gift. Here's a sneak peak!
Also, this (pic 2) is how I've labeled my layers for this one to keep track of which character each one is 😂😂 #iykyk
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