#shadowhare

[riverrainstudios]

I’ve been working on a shop for a while, so I’ve been working on sticker designs. And here’s the first set that I’ll eventually be selling. We got Egg, The Watcher, Jake, River Rain, Shadowhare, and Misu. All in a NITW-like style (it’s the first thing I think about when it comes to fall).

I can’t wait to bring these designs to u. And who knows maybe I’ll do something with the designs other than stickers in the future.

[iamthunderhearmehowl]

I AM FUCKING CRYING 😂😭

oh no i just realized when shadowheart becomes dark Justiciar her nickname w ill be DJ SHART :/

[bat-connoisseur]

I turned your Baldurs Gate 3 characters into furries. Sorry. Actually no I'm not I won't pretend anymore.

General notes and specific species under the cut.

Astarion: He is a Ghost Bat! I like to think him being a vampire and being a bat are entirely unrelated, it's just a coincidence and he's honestly pretty mad about it. Ever since I first started playing bg3 I had him assigned as a Ghost Bat or a Spectral Bat in my brain, just arbitrarily, and I went for the former just because the colours work.

Gale: He's a Eurasian Lynx! I had to make him a cat. I just had to. And I trawled through the wikipedia pages for pretty much every type of cat and Lynx was about the only one that fit in my brain. The fluff kinda evokes his beard and hair I think, and I almost didn't have him have proper hair, just the fur, but in the end I wanted to be consistent about it so he got it. Peep the greying muzzle because mans is stressed and dying.

Karlach: She's a Bongo Antelope! I knew I wanted her to be some kind of large hooved mammal, because of the horns but also because their builds and general sturdiness really suit her I think. It was a tough pick, there's so many cool ones, and when sketching I was actually going to have her be a Mountain Nyala, but I changed my mind last minute just because the colours of the Bongo fit SO well. They're also my favourite antelope. Let me have this. She's so cool and she gets to be one of my favourite animals.

Lae'zel: She is a Pterosaur! My specific reference was Dorygnathus, but I was fairly loose on the details and so she doesn't super resemble them beyond the teeth and tail. I wanted her to be something prehistoric since the Gith are aliens or something (i dont know dnd lore that well), and so I wanted her to be in her own sort of category apart from the rest so, prehistoric! I considered making her a dinosaur but the idea of a Pterosaur just really appealed for whatever reason. Kind of parallels their dragon riding if they can fly, I suppose? And their Enhanced 10 Foot Vertical Leap.

Shadowheart: She's a Hare! Very specifically a Hare rather than a rabbit. Hopefully that comes across. I wasn't super sure what to do for her honestly, but in several scenes she has these big scared eyes, and she's generally just kind of having an awful time and being harmed by the gods for the whole game and I was like 'hey I know an animal that looks like it's been personally slighted by the gods' and so Shadowhare was born. There is a part of me that wishes I'd made her a cat for the warrior cats joke though.

Wyll: He's a Pine Marten! I just kind of got it in my head he should be a Mustelid of some kind, I'm not sure why, he just has that kind of vibe to me? Maybe it's the way he moves, maybe it's his skill at killing, maybe I'm just biassed because I love him and I love mustelids, who knows. I looked through em all and I didn't want one of the bigger sturdier ones like a Wolverine because. Strength stat of 8. So I went for one of my smaller favourites, the Pine Marten. The reason he's not an animal with horns naturally like Karlach is because I still wanted them to look out of place on him! I toyed with giving him wings (because they're cool) but ultimately didn't wanna stray toooo far from Pine Marten.

And that's all! Perhaps I'll get around to anthropomorphising the non origin characters, but who even knows. Halsin would almost be too easy. I could make Jaheria a cool ass fox or something though. Much to consider. If I do them then I'm gonna be doing my Tav Deimos and my Durge Lethe though. That's da law.

[machine-herald-archive]

Ensemble - Rayla Heide

The plump belly of the Rising Howl looms before me, churning with its endless gears and elaborate ironwork. Some say the Howl is named for the wrought iron wolf that cries atop the apex of the hexdraulic descender; others swear the ghost of a black-veiled gentle-servant haunts the cabin, and when the Howl lifts him away from his lost love in Zaun, the sounds of his moans reverberate and shake its metal core. Many Piltovans, convinced as they are in their own sound judgment, are sure the name refers to nothing more than the cold wind whistling between the crevasses below their city.

But to me the Howl is not a single lone cry. It is an orchestra of noise, a melodic blend of a thousand unique sounds. It is why I am drawn to the machine.

The multi-tiered elevator, supported by three vertical structural beams which span the height of the city, descends to the Promenade level and slows to a lurching halt.

“Disembark for the Promenade!” the conductor announces, her voice magnified by a bell-shaped sonophone. She adjusts her thick goggles as she speaks. “Boundary Markets, College of Techmaturgy, Horticultural Center.”

Passengers pour from the descender. Dozens of others board and spread throughout its floors: merchants traveling to Zaun to trade in the night bazaars, workers returning home to sleep, wealthy Zaunites visiting night blooms in glass-domed cultivairs. Then there are the unseen riders who have made the Howl their home. I spy them scurrying in the shadows: plague rats, shadowhares, and viridian beetles.

Sometimes I climb down the crevasses to descend to the Sump, but tonight I long for the harmony of noise I know the descender will create.

Instead of entering through the doorway, I swing around the outside and lock my grip on the bottommost bar where ridged steel brackets frame the glass windows. My metal plates clank as I clamber onto the Howl, drawing stares from the passengers and what looks like a grimace from the conductor. My knowledge of facial expressions grows each day.

Most passengers ride within the compartment, away from the cold and soot, but outside, in the open air, I can hear the satisfying click-clack of mechanical parts snapping into place and the soft hiss of steam releasing as we sink into Zaun. And besides, I don’t easily fit through most doors.

A small boy clings to his sump-scrapper father’s hand and gapes at me through the window. I wink at him and his mouth opens in what I estimate is surprise. He ducks behind his father.

“Going down!” says the conductor. She rings a large bell and adjusts the dials on a bright red box. I can almost feel the commands buzz as they surge through wires into the descender’s engine.

Below us, the iron pinnacles of Zaun’s towers and green glass cultivairs glitter like candles in the dimming light. The Howl whirs and creaks as its cranks spiral down against the three towering beams, weighted down with iron, steel, and glass. A blast of steam whistles from the topmost pipe.

Inside the cabin, the sump-scrapper and his child look on as a musician tunes his four-stringed chittarone and begins a sonorous melody. His tune synchronizes with the clacking gears and whirring machinery of the Howl. The father taps his foot to the rhythm. A beetle snaps her pincers as she scrambles away from the man’s heavy boot. A gang of chem-punks lean against the wall in soft repose, a pause so unlike their usual frenzied jaunts through the city.

The Howl whirs in its perfect fusion of sounds during our descent. I marvel at the symphony around me and find myself humming along to the deep buzzing tones. The rhythm thrums through me and I wonder if those around me feel it.

“Entresol!” the conductor calls out as the descender slows. A pair of couriers carrying parcels wrapped in twine disembark, along with a crew of chemtech researchers and a crowd of chem-merchants. A merry crowd of Zaunites from the theater district steps aboard.

“Down we go!” she says, ringing her bell, and the Howl responds with a whir. The descender sinks and the windows mist as vapor pours from pipes above. Beads of water spread across my metallic chest as the harmony of clanking machinery and whooshing steam begins anew.

A discordant murmur interrupts the pattern of sounds. The vibration is subtle, but I can tell something is off. The descender continues as if all was normal, until a jarring clunk breaks its perfect rhythm.

Though I have never dreamed, I know a break in the pattern this abrupt is a machine’s most frightening nightmare.

The spiralling gearway is jammed, and the cabin’s iron brackets grate against it with a horrible screech. Many lives are at stake and I feel the machine’s pain as it braces desperately against the support beams. The entire weight of the Howl heaves against its bending columns and the cabin tilts at a lurching angle. Rivets burst from their seams as metal is pulled away from itself.

We wobble for a moment, then drop.

Inside the cabin, passengers scream and grasp at the nearest railing as they plunge. This is a different kind of howl.

I tighten my hold on the cabin’s bottommost platform. I extend my other arm, launching it toward one of the three vertical structural beams. The iron column is slippery in the mist and my grip misses it by inches. I retract my arm and steam blasts from my back as I try again, whizzing it toward a second beam. Another miss.

Time slows. Inside the cabin, the chem-punks cling to a ledge while the viridian beetle flies out an open window. The sump-scrapper and his child brace themselves against the glass, which fractures under their weight. The boy tumbles out, scrabbling at the frame with his fingers before he slips and falls.

I reach up and catch the boy in mid-flight, then retract my arm.

“Hold on,” I say.

The child clings to the plates on my back.

I fire my arm up toward the support beam once more, and this time my hand meets solid metal with a resounding clang as I secure my hold. My other arm is forced to extend as it’s wrenched down by the plunging cabin, so much that I feel my joints might fracture. Suspended in midair, I try to steady my grip.

With a great jolt, my arm jerks as the descender halts its freefall. It shakes from the sudden stop, now supported only by my arm. The boy shudders as he tightens his grip on my back.

The Howl is still fifty feet above the ground, hovering over the Sump-level buildings. My overlapping metal plates groan as they strain against the weight and I concentrate all my efforts on holding myself together. If I fall, the Howl falls with me, along with all its passengers.

While locking my arm onto the support beam, I slide my arm down the pillar. We drop ten feet and the cabin sways precariously before stabilizing again.

“Sorry about that!” I shout. Statements of empathy can be reassuring to humans in moments of crisis.

I must try again. I must be strong.

I release my grip on the support column ever so slightly, and with a piercing screech we gently slide down the remaining forty feet to the ground. My valves sigh as they contract.

Passengers echo my sighs as they stumble through the doors and broken windows into the Sump level, leaning on each other for support.

The boy on my back breathes rapidly as he holds my neck. My arms whir as I retract them and lower myself to the floor, crouching down so the child can touch the ground. He scrambles back to his father, who embraces him.

The conductor emerges from the descender and looks at me.

“You saved us. All of us,” she says, her voice shaking from what I think is shock. “Thank you.”

“I am simply fulfilling my purpose,” I say. “I am glad you are not hurt. Have a good day.”

She smiles, then turns to direct the crowd of Zaunites who have gathered to offer their assistance to the passengers and begin repairs. One of the chem-punk girls carries the musician’s chittarone for him as he crawls from the descender. Several of the theater-folk comfort an elderly man.

Two Hex-mechanics stumble toward me and I direct them to a medical officer who is setting up a tented repair station. The murmurs of the passengers and the hissing groans of the wounded descender blend with the whirrs and churning of the Sump. The steam-engine within my chest murmurs along, and I am moved to whistle a tune.

The boy turns and waves shyly at me.

I wave back.

He runs to catch up with his father, his heavy boots tapping a rhythm on the cobblestones. Shifting wheels sing and gears click-clack within the belly of the Rising Howl. The viridian beetle snaps her pincers in time with the beat as she zooms away into the Sump.

[winterpower98]

Welp, I might as well share these crackships now I guess

PeachCake ( Sun Wukong X Jade Rabbit)

The Jade Rabbit is so strong no man nor woman has ever bested them. Until Sun Wukong And then everything went downhill from there.

Jade "you are so cool let me fight you" Rabbit Sun "It's cute how hard you're trying" Wukong

Chang’E is having a blast during all of this btw, this is the most entertainment she got in centuries.

Yue Tu the moment Wukong, MK and his friends set foot on the Moon: heavy flirting Wukong: actually flustered for once

Also, after JTTW the two of them did keep in contact over the centuries through letters. They just sent letters to one another every weekend talking about different things and even giving each other advice for like fighting or baking. Until the letters Jade sent started to come back with no answer. After all, news doesn't travel fast to the moon

ShadowHare (Six Eared Macaque X Jade Rabbit)

Macaque and the Jade Rabbit bond over getting their asses kicked by Wukong and decide to train together (also because Macaque needed a place where he could lick his wounds, and what better place than the moon)

Macaque quickly finds out that Jade never saw a shadow play, he takes that as a personal insult, so he puts up one for them (obviously about the rabbit’s story)

Macaque also goes to the moon to keep Jade company but he keeps coming up with the dumbest reasons like

Macaque: I couldn't find this very specific flavor of medicine, can you make it for me? Jade: *knows dang well that flavor is the most common one in existence*

Macaque is also touch starved as hell which becomes extremely funny when you think that he went to the moon to recover from his wounds but did not expect Yutu to actually try to touch him even though "I AM A DOCTOR AND YOU ARE INJURED WHAT DID YOU EXPECT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!?"

Also, the strongest contrast between the two ships would be that, Macaque constantly asks for new kinds of medicine even tho he doesn't need them, while Wukong insists he doesn't need any even when he does and Yutu has to constantly threaten him.

There's also the way they show affection, because with the PeachCake ship, more often than not Jade will ask Wukong to fight (listen, they like to see those muscles working alright). But with the ShadowHere ship, Macaque is the one who goes to seek affection, but he's just so fucking dumb about it and it's so painfully obvious too.

[youcannotaffordme]

Visions of Zaun

W I L D L I F E

The Land and coastal areas house an large assortment of astounding creatures, such as: Cliff-shrikes, Crag-ducks, Flesh-eating mites, Gutter rats, Plague rats, Shadowhares, and Viridian beetles.

There are also more mundane creatures inhabiting the coastlines and docks such as seagulls.

Cavernberry

Type of native edible plant species. Used to make a juice.

Gutter rat

Gutter rats are a type of native mammal species. Their name is also used as an urban insult.

Plague rat

Plague rats are a type of native mammal species. Twitch was once a plague rat, before he mutated due to Zaunite chemicals in its sewers.

[riverrainstudios]

Shadowhare :3333

[pharomachrusmocinno-blog]

Pot is too cliché. I'm a wild-coffee-head.