Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.
okie i made an art but there is some context to it
so my sister was studying in the haunted theology building on her college campus because it was open and it had rooms to study in .
and since it is a theology building lots of people who like catholicism go in there. so my sister finishes working on her paper or whatever and it's like 2 am and she sees a piece of paper in the hallway that says "what is your favorite saint?" with a bunch of names of catholic saints that people like that they put on there. so my sister (an atheist) makes up a fake saint name (st. chadwick the bold) and writes it on the paper.
however, since it was darkish and lateish she accidentally wrote "bold" in a way that it could be misinterpreted as "bald"
now the next day she's having a movie night with friends and tells them about it and one of them draws a very reverent, very bald monk-saint on a whiteboard . and then they make a prayer to st. chadwick the b[o/a]ld
and then when she told me about it this weekend i thought i could use it as a chance for calligraphy / gothic graphic design practice so i made this
Their small bodies host even tinier brains. Built to crawl through soil and rocks bigger than itself. Running on a simple software bouncing between eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate.
V1 is smarter than a bug. It must be. It’s a war machine, so it must be. Its programming is complex enough to fry several motherboards; the internals are heated from constant, unrelenting processing needs. If it updates its optical data intake to any greater degree than these rough, messy polygons, it’d surely perish from the overwhelming information.
V1 is built to kill first, survive second. To be fair, survival would ensure more killing, so it’d be more effective. Moving through the battlefield, culling lives, drawing blood. Perfectly aligned with its programmed objectives, then.
Gabriel is smarter than a bug. He must be. He’s an angel, so he must be. He’s one of the best soldiers in the heavenly realm. Armour and swords glistened with pride and justice. He sees all. He judges all. His loyalty and perfect track record have earned him a high rank within the order. Leaving behind the creaturely "it". His light burns hot and bright within his constitution.
Gabriel is built as a messenger of the Father, then a judge of Hell. To be fair, the role of a judge was assigned to him by the council, so he supposes that his placement can be summed up as the bearer of the divine authority to bring right to all other creatures. Perfectly aligned, then.
Bugs… Well, they’re the same. I suppose. Small beings. Running pre-programmed orders derived from centuries of evolution: eat, sleep, fight, flight, and copulate. No role. No responsibilities.
Bugs are built naturally and fully, unlike humankind; but formed and ready to go within seconds from their births, like machines and angels.
So. Do they live?
When the machine and the angel escape their chains, do they see themselves in bugs?
Bugs are born to live, temporarily, fleetingly, yet live nonetheless. Do they, then, deserve to live, freeing and meaninglessly. No role. No responsibilities.
So. Do bugs love?
Do they learn that they can go beyond their basic structures? Do they see their own reflection in each other’s compound eyes? Do they recognize each other’s bodies, scents, heat? Do they feel the desire for closeness?
To flutter wings like a dance of waltz. To brush antennae like butterfly kisses. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.
To move through the sky in battle, in passion. To clash swords and fists and bullets. To greet and caress and lie next to each other near their death.
The same cells in the same blood coursing beneath the same suit of exoskeletons.
Machine, angel, bug. Boiled down to the barest essence of existence; crisp simplicity.
omfg it’s almost midnight here and i have to get up for work at 5 AM but let me compose at least some of my thoughts …
ok idia x robot girl! reader … hear me out 🥺
someone he creates to cure his loneliness of companionship in a tender way that ortho just cannot do; ugh i’m imagining a plain head just sitting on the desk, stripped down to the metal and skinless; him asking which eye color you like the best until it lands upon yours;
the midnight conversations as he builds a body; the pining from the reader (is it actual pining or are you just scraping the edges of desperate self perseverance so he doesn’t trash you like the other models); kind of dream-like transition between adding each body parts (like imagine yourself lying in a tub of ink — cheeks, nose, lips, a slight peel of your forehead visible — and eventually it all drains down as more and more body parts are added);
the first very touch of human flesh upon you; the cracked polystyrene blinks that you give with twitchy eyelashes; you siphon your romantic tendencies between a messy mélange of gritty 18+ hentai and victorian romance novellas; idia pours his damned and tormented soul into making you perfect for him and you pour yourself willingly into the image, designed just for one man <3
past midnight edit:
BRUH TO THIS SOnG
youtube
yeah to this fuckin banger
((past midnight edit again: there are really only two ways you can go with robot main characters: the building process or the robot being oblivious and thinking they are human (Ex Machina or Twilight Zone) i enjoy both sooo much))
[ID: A drawing of two SeaWing dragons from Wings of Fire facing each other. Tsunami has her back to the viewer and is smirking with her ear tipped forward. She has mostly medium blue scales with dark blue along her spine and snout. Some of her aqua blue bioluminescent face scalers are lit up. She is smirking at Whirpool who floats in front of her. He looks stunned by the audacity of what she is saying in aquatic. His green-yellow scales are lighter on his belly and darker on his back. He has large ears for a SeaWing, which are adorned with several large hooped earrings each. Over his left eye, he has a small golden monocle which is suspended in place by a fine metal chain attached to one earring and one eye brow ring. Between them, in glowing and floating letters, it spells 'Squidface'/ End.]
The scene that made me laugh is when Tsunami learns how to speak Aquatic and the very first thing she learns how to do is basically swear. Headcannon that squidface is the SeaWing swear that functionally means dickhead. Which I think fits Whirlpool well. I tried to make him as oily as possible. His ears normally droop under the weight of all the hoops. But he's so surprised that they're sticking up quite a bit. He also has some big ears for a SeaWing. All the better to put more hoops in. I may do a bit of a redesign at some point and give him gages because that would be sweet.
Love Tsunami. Next up is a scene that made me cry.
finnish cats shenanigans are always my favourite but especially on sasha cup day with the cup involved the hijinks ramp up to 100 lmaooo
"wheres my- (realising sasha is in front of him and quickly stutters to change it to our so he doesnt get wacked over the head) wheres our names?"
(luosty proceeds to cackle in the bg like the shit stirrer he is realising lundys slip of the tongue and if he noticed sasha definitely noticed)
"wheres my name? wheres my name ☺️?" and it was at that moment lundy knew he fucked up
it never ceases to endlessly entertain me how much of a punk lundy can be and im so glad sasha is here to put him in his place because sheesh this kid sometimes XD
"and then luosty but i didnt want to give it to him but he took it" eh? is that so? who couldve guessed???
environmental storytelling, captain said haha okay mine now its mine let go ☺️💢
guys.... do you think if a cool mug has been lying in the dorm kitchen untouched for like over two weeks now... do you think it is fine if i take it.....
i love sincerely love working with dungeon meshi's magic system and the way mana sickness is depicted, like it has the breadth and scope for some truly powerful and wacky fun shit, but you can also easily bring down the hammer when you want to put the characters in difficult situations they can't get out of without a little creativity. i found when writing for baldur's gate 3 that, unless i was in a modified setting, i was hard-pressed thinking up fun ways for characters to solve their problems without just using magic, especially for the small things. i mean, what fun is throwing a character into a river and needing to warm them up when you can just cast prestidigitation?? it's one of the first things a novice can learn and also it's a cantrip, it literally costs nothing!
im always curious about how much ive improved when i come across my old art from when i was a teenager still learning-and im still learning as an adult but-yeah, i'd say ive improved in alot of areas, becuase hey look i can draw the other eye now :D