#head crafter

[skyscratch-wc]

SMALLEAR - Head Crafter of Thunderclan

He/Him

Name Significance: Smallear is in reference to his unusually small ears. He was also a very small kitten.

Ranks: Crafter -> Head Crafter -> Elder

Mentor: unknown

Apprentices: Frostfur (post-apprenticeship crafter training)

Parents: unknown

Siblings: Rockfall

Mate: Speckletail

Kits: Lionheart, Goldenflower, Mistlebreeze, Snowstorm

Grandkits: Cinderpelt (LionFrost), Brackenfur (LionFrost), Thornclaw (adopted LionFrost), Brightheart (adopted LionFrost), Swiftpaw (GoldenTiger), Bramblethorn (GoldenTiger), Tawnypelt (GoldenTiger)

Other Notable Kin: Goldenstar (great grandson; ShadowClan), Dawnshine (great granddaughter; ShadowClan), Flametail (great grandson; ShadowClan), Lionblaze (great grandson), Alderheart (great grandson), Sparkpelt (great granddaughter)

Character Summary (WIP)

[balluprojects]

Private Gardens, 2024

(reserved for those who love and listen)

finally finished this small collection of magnets <3

hand painted with posca and gel pens, on upcyled acrylic glass. 9,5x5cm each

a blooming saturday*

[youreaclownnow]

"So you see, toguro, the real reason I need to create a tunnel to demon world is so that I can get bottom surgery."

"Don't they have that in human world too, though?"

"They do, yes. But demon surgeons are far better at the task."

[windfighter]

I see so many people whine about the rover and tell the devs to take it out of the game again and like, before the rover when they wanted it added I was just "Planet Crafter doesn't need a car" but now that it's been added they can pry Jack from my cold dead hands.

I love my idiot car

The whiners are just suffering from skill issues.

[gensnix]

You know totk is filled with a lot of missed opportunities cause if you’re gonna bring back the concept of sages why not do anything with this 

[teddytoroa]

howdy yall😃 oh snappers😶 You Are In For A Treat😈 third life last life double life Grind. Optimize. Automate. Thrive. howdy yall!!! we're finally back!! all the hermits Here on This track...excellent wehaveitspinning AHAHAHAH NO! I'm winning!! AHHHH let me just remind you guys LOOK INTO MY EYES. NOTHING BUT MY EYES🥺 yknow what it's fine🙄 ladies get in line😏 let's gooo!! WELcome BACK to HERMIT CRAFT miners and crafters are really quite daft HUEUGH!!!! YEAH FREAKING RIGHT SOUP GROUP ASSEMBLE LET'S GO RIPTIDE!!! WELcome BACK to HERMIT CRAFT miners and crafters are really quite daft...third life last life double life Grind. Optimize. Automate. Thrive. Like a great big psychotic, dysfunctional family🤭 that's about right, yeah💀 I don't know about psychotic but okay😒

alright, you know what? that, that honestly wasn't that bad

[monstrsball]

i went down the rabbit hole last night looking at quilted jacket patterns on etsy and i kept going "oh my god suga would wear that" in my head.

[the-wardens-torch]

Guys, I haven't even finished the MSQ :)

[clovermusic]

Gotta make a new version of this one I love this song

[homunculus-argument]

Random worldbuilding for nothing in particular: Dwarvish last names.

When dwarvish workers and artisans first came to human cities for work, humans soon noticed that all dwarves seem to have last names ending in the same suffix. Soon enough they put together that these names don't go by families, but by occupation. Blacksmith is a blacksmith, Goldsmith is a goldsmith, a mason is called Stonesmith and carpenter a Woodsmith. And a horse breeder is called a Horsesmith.

(While humans would classify dwarf horses as ponies, dwarvish languages have no separate words for "horse" and "pony" and insist that dwarf horses are called horses since the way humans say "pony" seems degoratory.)

The word that humans previously assumed meant "smith" is simply the dwarvish blanket term for "one who works with their hands to manufacture/maintain." Humans originally started referring to any random dwarf they don't know with simply the suffix in a dismissive "they all have the same names anyway" sort of way, but in dwarfish society addressing someone you don't know in this way, "hey you, Craftsman" is considered perfectly respectable.

Once more dwarf society began to pour into human lands, humans noticed two other types of last names: -Trader, and -Commander. Traders are sellers, peddlers, merchants of all sorts, and while first encountering Silktraders, Goldtraders and Spicetraders might lead one to think that they are a class above -Smiths, they are not. Any street hawker, peddler or common grocer is just as much a -Trader as a merchant of kings is.

There are dwarfish jokes about how a farmer who grows vegetables and then goes to the town to sell them is a Turnip-smith at home but a Turnip-trader in the city, but getting the suffixes mixed up is a serious offense. Calling a dwarvish doctor a "seller of healing" instead of a "crafter of healing" would imply that they do their occupation for financial profit instead of a sacred calling, and is a stab-worthy insult. And they won't stitch you up afterwards.

The -Commander class is as one would expect, for leaders and commanders. The chief of a village or head of a clan is often known as "[clan name] commander", but more often it is the title for military officers and government officials. A centurion is called Hundred-Commander, a higher officer is a Thousand-Commander. The master of a spy network is "Commander of Secrets" and the national chief accountant is "Commander of Coin".

While dwarf societies are technically speaking autocracies with a single leader, humans have yet to reach an agreement about how to translate the leader's title. Most settle for "chief", as king/queen/emperor/empress would require knowing the current ruler's gender, and dwarves consider such information a matter of extreme privacy. The official dwarvish title of the ruler is "folksmith", "one who works with their hands to make/maintain a people".

[skyscratch-wc]

OATWHISKER - WindClan Head Crafter

They/Them

Name Significance: Named for their light brown pelt color and abundance of whiskers

Ranks: Tunneler Apprentice -> Crafter Apprentice -> Crafter -> Head Crafter

Mentor: unknown

Apprentice: tbd

Parents: unknown

Siblings: unknown

Mate: Kitefeather

Kits: Wheatwhisker, Robinclaw

Other Kin: Weaselfur (grandson), Boulderfur (grandson), Whiskernose (grandson), Furzepelt (granddaughter)

*his accessory is a cloth collar he made from a scrap of cloth given to him by the farm cat visitors (from Tallstar’s Revenge). He often wears it, especially when it is cold out.

[oh-men-of-dark-and-dismal-fate]

Walking into a yarn shop like it's an art museum. Admiring all the colorways and textures of the various skeins. Nodding my head at the tasteful displays of handmade items by the local knitting/crochet group to demonstrate the different yarn brands. Talking to the owner to learn more about the local fiber art scene and learning about different dyers, and crafters in the area that I would have never found on the internet. Buying one too many skeins to continue my pursuit of creating beautiful things to bring joy into mine and others lives. My way of paying homage to this wonderland of fibrous beauty.

Fucking glorious.

[chrollc]

“Come Hakki; come take the crafters head off his shoulders.”

[maxknightley]

I think the weirdest thing about "AI art" discourse is how every individual piece ends up flattened to the same level, treated as essentially the same thing, regardless of material conditions or the originating intent of the piece

like. the gay sex cats in particular are not taking anyone's job away. why are we talking about them as though they could. there is not an artisanal meme-crafter out there with their head on their desk, quietly weeping because they're no longer able to support themselves via joke photoshops. not since Cracked.com stopped being relevant, anyway.

[moonsaver]

I cant help but think The Family and whoever helped actually construct the Dreamscape actually doesnt use it. I feel like they all stay far far away from actually hopping into the Dreamscape unless its for matters they need to attend to, just to keep up appearances

Like those influencers who advertise a product but never actually use it themselves? Something like that. The real dreamscape is falling apart at the seams, and is deathly unstable.

That was just a small thought. Next is my brain rot.

Imagine Yan!Sunday sleep deprives you. Very, very often.

You get cranky, irritated, annoyed at the slightest thing, and your jabs only get more and more personal as he keeps you continuously awake. Loud, vast spaces full of bustling people, bright lights, constantly forcing you to shove down caffeine-pumped drinks that are sometimes manufactured by The Family personally.

And for once, you are begging to go to sleep. To finally hit your head on a soft pillow in a quiet and dark room. And he lets you. You almost welcome the dream fluid, as he gently places you down into it (by his insistence, of course).

And you hadn't paid attention when he was talking – of course you didn't, practically delirious from whatever they pump into those energy drinks. The dream fluid in your private room is much more so different from the average one. Its almost a light gold color, and if you didn't hate Sunday so much, you would have told him it reminded you of his beautiful, gold eyes.

Although.. the dreamscape you end up in is more like a dream rather than another reality. And the dream itself isn't what you'd prefer. Every move of yours is calculated by the crafter, and someone else is in the scenario of the dream with them – you only practically live through their eyes. That "someone" is supposed to be you. You, as Sunday's most caring lover. In the dream, you're an idealized version of the relationship. You brush his hair out of his face, fetch coffee for the both of you, laugh softly when he makes a joke instead of staying quiet and letting it hang awkwardly in the air. And you know this.. simulation like the back of your hand. You've been forced to dream about it for roughly the 50th time. Sometimes the sentences rearrange, but they stay true to their message; do not bother resisting. Not even in your dreams are you free. Freedom tastes like the gold you bathe in. The gold that watches you doze off, and observes your every move. Gold that eyes anyone who even dares speak to you. Gold – as you've learnt – tastes quite bitter.

[evilminji]

I Ponder The Humble Blob Ghost!

You think they are what happens when you ALMOST but not quite A Ghost(tm)? Like, you have the ectoplasm and the will to continue... but you didn't really have A Thing in life? No Final Crystalizing Thought that brings focus? Just "ow! Ah! I'm scared. Don't wanna die!" And theeeeen.... *poof!*

Why am I Orb? Am squish? No bones.

Like? Remove any one piece of the Critical Formula and you get Blob instead of Ghost? Different KINDS, mind you, but blobs none the less.

Like Skulker! Not enough Ectoplasm. Ended up Blob. He CLEARLY had the Will, the Obsession, the gory end and unfinished business... buuuut? No green goo to power the creation of a full body. He clearly knows what he's supposed to LOOK like? But it's not something FIXABLE? Even with his now unlimited access to Ectoplasm.

Like in utero damage that permanently stunted his growth. HE is fine. All his facilities are on-line and checking in as they should, for the level of sentience expected of a ghost of his people. He just... smol. Same strength, intelligence, and power as he would have always HAD...

He just got handed a really, REALLY crap "customize your eternal meatsuit" option screen. Like for real guys. Basicly NO options. His salt is eternal and entirely justified. He could have had his tattoos. He paid a LOT of credits for those! Sat for DAYS! Had to track down this One(1) artist on this SHITTY little trading hub, that BARELY QUALIFIED as one, to sit in on uncomfortable overturned crate... IN A GAS MASK because the AIR SUPPORT KEPT KICKING IT... for hoooours!

It was a WORK OF ART. You would have CRIED.

This is BULLSHIT.

But wait, I hear you say, staring at the Blob ghost chewing on a lamp post. The one that has wii music playing behind the eyes. No thoughts, head jello, one might say. What about THEM?

Good point! Remember that formula?

LOT of Ecto! But THAT... might be either an animal or a fungus. We'd have to check. ANYTHING can and DOES die. If it's alive? It can die and potentially leave a ghost. But! Consider the noble Ghost Rabbit! *holds up squirming rabbit that is ABSOLUTELY trying to both bite me and kick me in the face* A noble and friendly creature!

THIS is what happens when an animal: has sufficient Ectoplasm at the death site, a reason to continue living (fairly common. It's usually their offspring, escape, the instinctual drive to survive itself or other understandable base drives. Like love, loyalty, or hunger.), and that all important High Emotions End.

Miss any of these? You get Blobbertson over there! He's clearly a hungry boy! But! Not very DRIVEN is he? Just floating along, chewing on whatever seems interesting, looking for a snack. He's food motivated. But not MOTIVATED motivated.

Blobbertson over there? A peaceful death. Too much Ectoplasm too leave, too food motivated in life NOT to carry over, but? No DRIVE. To DEFINE and DEMAND the Ectoplasm in his little body become sharp and active. No highly emotional state to stir it into action.

Is Blobbertson INCAPABLE of higher emotions? No. He is every bit as capable as the Ghost Rabbit that has savaged my hands and escaped while you were reading. It was, in fact, NOT as friendly as originally assumed. I may be bleeding. Unimportant. Blobbertson is PERFECTLY capable of getting attached. Being trained.

Whatever level of intelligence Blobbertson had in life, still remains. And WITH that? Comes the ability to improve and grow in death! IF (and this is the big one) he ever finds MOTIVATION to do so.

Because you see, Blobbertson is quite happy. No thoughts, brain jello. Drifting along in a happy green ocean like a jellyfish. Only concerned about his next snack. It's comforting. His food obsession filled, his tiny motivation barely enough to move him place to place.

He would GLADLY sit in one place and eat for the rest of eternity. Head blissfully silent.

And that's OKAY! It truly, honestly, is. Not everyone has to be conquers and kings, crafters and cosmonauts. Sometimes you just want to spend the rest of time playing in the sand. Resting on a sunshine-y hill. Not EVERY soul is a loud one.

This is the INFINITE Realms.

And there are places like Amity Park out there. THICK as cold honey with Ectoplasm in the air, gently infusing all the life that grows there with greater and greater chance of Ghost-hood. Even the peaceful blinking awake after that final rest to look down and... little nubby green paws.

Congratulations on becoming a Blob, grandma! Yes, I imagine you ARE furious it is inordinately difficult to knit like this. No, I don't think complaining to the king will help, MeMa.

That said? I can not tell you if Blob Ghost all belong to the same Family or the same Order, but they are NOT the same species! The WAY in which you fuck up that ever vital Fomula results in WILDLY different Blobs! Was it an animal? A sentient species? A sentient PLANET? A complexe interlocking colony of fungi? What was the EXACT Ectoplasm concentration at the death site? Was that the historical levels or the At Death levels? Was the individual under sedation?

Yes! All of this IS in fact, VERY relevant!

And you think it ends THERE? HA! The SKIES are FILLED with Fighty Mother Fuckers! Ghosts LOVE to fight! It's built into their social dynamics and hierarchy! Good ol brawls to get the Ecto pumping!

......Local Blob Farmer would like to take this moment to say "GET OF HIS GHOST PEONIES, YOU HEATHENS."

No they would NOT like to join your 24/7 thunder dome in the sky, THANKS! Martha here is trying to compose some Atlantian Shell Poetry. Blobby Jr of Blobbington and Blobbington Incorporated is TRYING to study! You've DESTROYED THE COMMUNAL ZEN GARDEN!!

Get! GET!!! *swings broom*

And THEN you look not even a mile east? And it's the floating island of Blobs. They LIKE that rock. It's just an ever shifting, accidentally rolling off the edge, falling slightly, making an offended squeek, and floating back to the top of the pile to repeate the process, MOOSH of thousands of blobs. No one's certain if they used to be seals or some sort of cat.

Apparently THAT island is Warm(tm).

So there they sit. Making contented noises, chirping and shoving for the best spots. They never leave. You can literally just... float up and sit on them. It's amazing. You gotta be careful not to get buried, but it's So Soft and bouncy? And they are ALL making that soft happy Blob vibrate noise. It's like a giant, island sized, warm and almost fuzzy but not, water bed that massages you.

Just DON'T start anything there! Holy SHIT are they territorial. You Will Die. They SWARM.

And THATS not even getting into the Blobs that are? Literally brainless. Some people eat those. Which? I guess? They ARE basicly Ectoplasm jello. But SOME of them are NOT? Like... it's a debate. Hot button issue, ya know?

Some fungus turns into Ecto Jello with negative IQ and delicious insides. Is this food? But OTHER fungus was SENTIENT in life and become a whole RANGE of Fungus ghosts, from Blob right on up to complexe dryad like ghosts! Clearly NOT food unless you are a MONSTER. But THEY argue the FIRST group are ALSO not food?

Plant Ghosts have strong opinions and are willing to Gruesome Violence about it.

Which brings us back to the Humble Blob Ghost! Check before you pet! That might be grandma! Or planning to eat your hand! Just as Mammal tells you little to nothing about what animal you are looking at, so too does Blob and Ghost! Stay safe out there! And if anyone sees a glowing green rabbit? I want my blood back! That's supposed to be in MY body! Rude!

This has been, the daily ghost!

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones