#sharps the chicken

[fyeahsonicthehedgehog]

[robotnik-mun]

The Australia Connection

So, not too long ago, it was revealed that DIC had planned to make a fourth Sonic show, and probably the wildest one yet- a show focusing not on Sonic, but a spinoff focusing on his cousins. Said cousins live on an asteroid and solve mysteries while attending high school, and are a part of the school news team.

Yeah, like I said- pretty damn wild. But! One thing to note is that the Asteroid the cousins live on is described as being akin to Australia, and that Sonic's aunt and uncle run a combination diner/repair depot. And this got me to thinking of the origins of Sonic... and why Mobius was denied the glory of Pub Rock.

What am I getting at?

Well, Sonic's earliest given origins have him as a native of a place called Christmas Island. Christmas Island in the real world is an Australian territory.

Why is that significant? Well, you now who else is an Australian? Or rather, a 'Downundan'? Vector the Crocodile!

Yep, in Archie Sonic #212 Vector was revealed to have originally been a native of Downunda, Mobius' version of Australia, and his current accent was the result of covering up his natural one. Why is that significant, you ask? Because once upon a time, Vector was in a band with Sonic.

And thus, the origin comes together-

Sonic was originally born on Christmas Island, while his extended family lived on the mainland. When he had time he'd visit said family, and gradually met with other musically inclined youngsters and started up a band. Using his uncle's diner as a venue, Sonic and the gang would get their start performing for his aunt and uncle's customers, and even managed to make a small name for themselves.

Aaand then it all went to shit when THIS guy showed up.

You can probably guess the rest- Sonic's burgeoning career as a rock star comes to a sudden and crashing end as Eggman's attack prompts him to fight back, leading him to becoming a globetrotting hero as he thwarts the doc's schemes to conquer the planet. Over the years, Sonic's accent fades into something more 'continental', though occasionally flares up when he's particularly peeved...

Likewise, the rest of the band is scattered to the four winds. Vector eventually re-settles in the United Federation and becomes a detective, where his original Australian/Downundan accent gives way to a Federation accent. The rest of the band, Mach, Max and Sharps, eventually turn their fortunes around when they join with an up-and-coming pop singer called Mina Mongoose, and become part of the band the Forget Me Knots.

And that's the story of how because of Robotnik, Mobius never got its own version of AC/DC, and thus Sonic became a hero to the world rather than a rock legend. And also he is evidently the Mobius version of an Australian.

So what does this all mean? It means I have too much time on my hands, is what it means. But I do hope you all get something out of this crack-pipe spawned idea.

(I must also make the disclaimer that the real world island that inspired the Christmas Island idea was in fact the island of Kiritimati, a pacific island used for nuclear testing by the US and UK. But still, I'm attached to the Australia thing, so there!)

[vee-momos-art]

Can you backflip?

Max: Oh heck yeah, I can do a back flip!!

Mach: Uh Max remember what happened last time. We got lucky Ash could take over for that concert.

Max: Yeah , yeah. But this time I can do it and what bossy mongoose doesn't know won't hurt right.

Mach I-I guess..

Max Right here we go!~

-----------------------------

Max: *Laying in a hospital bed with a sling on his arm.*........

Sharps: *shaking his head in disappointment*

Mach: I tried to warn him....

Mina: You're very lucky Ash is on a date and we don't have any concerts planned.

[bedroompainting]

‘Quilted Chicken’, gouache on grey paper, 2024 (April)

A painting from yesterday I did of a quilted chicken my partners grandmother made. It’s such a fun and interesting object, I really enjoyed deciding how much detail to render in the fabric strips.

[rockyteriyaki]

okay SO my beloved ezra @hellohallowedhalo inquired after my tags on this post, which made me realize that my FIRST EVER F1 FIC is almost an entire year old (??????) and THEN i read THIS MASTERPIECE by @fast-burn and it set off a nuclear bomb inside my head...so i wrote a free-use-ish factory followup to RSWT. thank you all for one year of freaky derangement <3333 ily

Daniel leaves Red Bull as a driver and becomes—he doesn’t even know what to call it. In his contract, it says ambassador. On suspended Twitter accounts, they call him a blood bank.

Max doesn’t know about that part, because Max doesn’t have Twitter, and even if he did he wouldn’t be term-searching his own name with asterisks in the vowel places like a nutter. Daniel’s people tell him soothingly to block and report, if he insists on being on social media in the first place, and Daniel does–he reports. He doesn’t block. Sometimes, he screenshots.

It had been a leap, obviously, to go from–from a driver, incidentally bound to the whole blood thing, to then this: a full-time gig. A singular purpose. They’d gone over the language of the contract in more detail than Daniel thought was possible, rewording and reworking every point until it maybe resembled something that seemed less obviously like exploitation, but even after it was all printed out with the little RBR letterhead, it felt swampy in ways nobody could explain or do away with.

Still, when Daniel put pen to paper, it was with life-ruining clarity. I want this, I want this, I want this.

“Ah, here you are,” Max says, knocking on the glass wall of one of the conference rooms in the factory. He cups his hands against the pane, like a kid against a department store display. “Are you hiding, Daniel?”

“Nah,” Daniel says. He hasn’t been, actually; he just wanted someone to find him. He puts his phone down as Max pulls the door open. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Max says, and it’s so uncomplicated Daniel doesn’t feel the need to even ask a followup, which is what he likes–loves, even–about Max. Daniel crowds him in the doorway, leans on him.

“You need it?” Daniel whispers.

“Yes,” Max says. “Please. I have, already–they have everything they need, so. We can go now, if we are back before the hour.”

Daniel reaches behind Max, pulls the door closed. It pushes Max into him a little, feet falling forward. Max blinks.

“Why not here?” Daniel says. He stretches his neck out, which he knows is a dirty move, but it works; Max’s nostrils flare. His eyes dart to the glass wall, the big transparent window that looks out onto the floor where dozens of people in navy polos are working to make sure Max can deliver them to glory next year.

Well, Daniel is one of those people, technically, now. Working.

He steps back towards the conference table, a dark fake-oak thing that’s big enough to fit the shareholders and their massive egos all side-by-side. Max follows. The number of times they’ve done this and it hasn’t ended in one or both of them coming can be counted on one hand. Max knows this, and Max is following, with a blinding willingness reminiscent only of Daniel’s own desire to get Max’s fangs on him, in him, since the first time he saw that glossy pink shine over them.

“I was just thinking about my contract,” Daniel says, as casually as he can manage, which is probably not at all. He scoots onto the table, kicks the rolling office chairs out to carve a gap. “You can, y’know.” Max nods fervently, even though Daniel isn’t making any sense. “Like, anywhere? If you wanted.”

He can pinpoint the exact moment the images parade into Max’s mind. Daniel in meeting rooms, instead of bathrooms and backseats. Daniel on his lap. Daniel over dinner, only one plate between the two of them because–because he’s Max’s—

Max sinks down to his knees, cradles his head in Daniel’s thighs. It takes Daniel a moment to pinpoint the feeling through the denim of his jeans, but the saliva gives it away–Max is rubbing his gums over the seams. The hooked points of his fangs snag and retreat on the fabric.

“Hey,” Daniel says, on a shaky exhale. “Is that good teeth? Or, like, bad-idea-Daniel teeth?”

“If I don’t, I will bite you here.” Max gestures miserably to the glass wall. “And then, probably against the window too.”

There are people walking past now, and Daniel can see them look inside only long enough to register who’s who, and then avert their eyes. Daniel’s laughs turn into moans. He can’t help it. Max laughs too.

“Go on then,” he tells Max. “They don’t pay me enough to keep secrets.”

[fnafverse-quotes]

Erm? Happy flipping New Year? Also A salute to the end of FNAF the musical. The ending… GUTTED me. If you know you know. And if you don’t? I shall not spoil it here. Here’s a few more scene redraws I’ve done since my last post!

(Yes I forgor to queue more quotes again. Listen. Shtuff been busy.)

[doc-ocktism]

part 2 electric boogaloo

[ridiculousbirdfaces]

Sharp-tailed grouse by André Bhérer

Sharp-tailed Grouse (Tympanuchus phasianellus)

[squishsquishy]

>> grubspot

[sambirdyanim8]

Natehastocorrectyou

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Kickin making his plan for the next snowball fight(they're playing capture the flag, angel being the "flag):

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=o_3joQiQGmw&pp=ygUYdGhlIGhvcnNlIGFuZCB0aGUgaW5mYW50

I HATE/LOVE HOW THIS IS SO IN-CHARACTER FOR KICKIN IN THIS AU. He's so overdramatic. I bet he called Dogday for help and the drama just increased x2. The boys are planning an entire war while everyone else is just listening and nodding along.

Angel hearing a whole musical in the background while they make soup like "I hope the kids aren't having a snow war again", and then they come out to check in on them and the screaming goes on for at least twenty minutes as everyone jumps in on them.

[maskofnova]

Pep talk before they run off to get their asses beat by a bounty they werent at all built for.

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

trying to persuade my mom to get ducks instead of chickens

1. bigger more nutritious eggs

2. better fertilizers

3. less scary and vengeful

[superfluffychickens]

The Shoulder Gang™️

[skeletonpendeja]

Shit I been cooking lately

[randum-famdoms]

GODS FUCKING DAMNIT WHY DID MY PARENTS DECIDE THAT A HOUSE LESS THAN 100 FEET AWAY FROM A HIGHWAY WAS A GOOD FUCKING IDEA