#shower lore

[yrooxrksvigirzmtovwzwwb]

cover me in water and lathet me with chemicals

[cursedthing]

.imagining pearl like this at times

[hexcii]

Every time I tell this story I’m met with the same reaction

[sketchbuddy]

@bamsara SKYRIM + TROD TALKING STREAMBASED HIGHLIGHTS SKETCHES

it's about this bam's skyrim stream

i am still buzzing after yesterday god thank you bam for answering my questions on trod au i am so happy you feed me so much lore please continue your hard work!!! i really hope i wasn't too much overbearing

also if you like cult of the lamb and interested and narilamb please please check out their fanfic that we discussed in stream it is very interesting and full of character study and lore and funny moments and just so good!!! And if you have time, check out their other works on ao3 too!!

other doodles related to stream:

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[genericpuff]

💣💥💣💥💣

so with Episode 67 finally posted and the dust settled, I wanted to share some funny behind-the-scenes stuff with you all.

Clip Studio is a great piece of software, it's what allows Banshriek and I to work on the same episode together via cloud-syncing (it's a function called "Teamworks" in the app) but it's also... kind of garbage sometimes. Without getting too much into it, CSP has a bottleneck issue with how it predominantly uses CPU rather than the graphics card in a computer. And considering it's literally graphics software, yeah, you can probably figure out pretty quickly with the most bare minimum of computer knowledge why this is a problem that's really silly for it to have LOL

ANYWAYS. This has been known to cause problems between Banshriek and I when trying to complete an episode. Problems that - often enough for me to tell you stories about it - result in us having to essentially "rebuild" the episode we're working on. This doesn't necessarily mean having to redraw anything (thankfully that doesn't happen very often) but it usually goes down something like this:

1.) The software suddenly has an issue syncing our changes which results in either conflicted files that can't update, software crashes that refuse to load pages, updates not even going through, or taking WAY too long to update to the point that we'd rather just rebuild and work on the episode independently and then swap the files and layers when it's time for the other person to do their part.

2.) I have to inform Banshriek that Clip Studio crashed again, and in the event that I can't get back into page editing because of the aforementioned issues ^^^ they immediately get to backing up their most recent version of the file that's stored on their computer. Thankfully a lot of the time these versions are pretty up to date, but it's still a moment of tension every single time because these crashes don't always happen the same way every time.

3.) Using the backup version, a new .cmc file (the file that contains every page for each episode, it's the thing that lets you make pages for comics in the software!) is created by whoever has access to the pages without issue (usually Banshriek is the one who's able to do it, this has become a very one-sided problem LMAO) and then is sent to me so that I can upload it to the cloud to replace the old version. This file is then usually called something like "Episode#BACKUP" to distinguish between both versions as we usually still have the older versions downloaded as well.

4.) Work (hopefully) continues as normal. Though it's definitely caused setbacks, so far our survival rate is still 100% 😆

This happens at least every other episode. It's become rare to go a whole episode without having to go through this process. We're still trying to figure out what we can do to avoid it, but we've tried a bunch of other options (and Banshriek has created some test episodes using pages from completed episodes that crashed for the sake of experimenting) and so far it's still a struggle understanding what exactly is going wrong with Clip Studio and it's syncing features. Fortunately, Banshriek and I are both auDHD enough that we're gonna obsess over it until we figure it out LMAO but until then, we're constantly having to treat Clip Studio like a live snake that's trying to wrangle itself out of our hands 💀😆

And the most recent episode? Episode 67, which ran a week and a day late? It set a new personal best for number of backups, because we had to rebuild it not just once, but TWICE.

What we've noticed is that sometimes you can barely make a change to an episode and these crashes still happen, as if major changes have been made. So far the best hypothesis Banshriek has come up with regarding this observation is that the software struggles more to update changes that affect overall pixel count and appearance - stuff like moving canvases, flipping canvases, adding on textured layers (which is what we do at the end of making each page) , etc. that covers a lot of pixels at a time, even if it's only changing the hues / colors slightly, seems to cause the most problems.

During the production of Episode 67, the following plagues came to pass:

Our car exploded

Our cat nearly exploded (btw! for anyone wondering from my last post about him, he's doing better now!)

Our toilet pipes froze twice (and exploded once)

Democracy in the U.S. exploded

My husband's wisdom teeth were exploding so the last 3 of them were removed all at once

The files for Episode 67 exploded twice and had to be rebuilt just to keep it on life support (by the end of the episode we were literally sending files back and forth via Google Drive like peasants 😔 /hj)

The most non-explosive thing to happen was the tattoo shop I work at moving locations up the street, and even then, I came very close to exploding a few times during that process LMAO (and our debit machine just exploded so we're cash only for the next few days sksksks)

This episode was probably our most cursed yet, and frankly, it couldn't be more fitting, I think Dionysus himself had a hand in our madness, just for the sake of being on theme with this episode. And the worst part, we haven't even gotten into the truly chaotic stuff yet. All Dionysus has done so far is slam Hades' head into a table, he's barely gotten started. Dionysus only knows what Episode 68 has in store for me and Banshriek as well 😭💀

[saym0-0]

thinking about a wider-mcyt like. death network. like their are several reapers/gods that all watch over/take care of different aspects of death. kristin is in charge of permadeaths (hardcore/limited lives servers), zed(eath) is in charge of like. a few respawnable worlds- not all of them because i imagine with there being so many more of them and them each having so many more deaths its a big responsibility. pix works part time with just the one world (empires). i don't actually watch that many smps and it seems a common enough trope so if theres anyone else from another smp that would fit feel free to add on :D

they're all coworkers.

[dat-lil-shark]

Imagine being a normal Autobot.

You wake up, and on the news Dwayne Johnson just blow up the White House. (Or in TF ONE continuity, your milky-coffee-loving coworker Jeffery).

And then this random librarian in your town just got chosen by Jesus (or another one of your random coworkers).

And then a whole bunch of other messed up stuffs happens and now your entire planet is dead. So now you move to another planet dominated by life-sized IKEA mannequins controlled by millions of sentient hamsters. And to survive you need to dress up as an IKEA mannequins as well and you can’t let the hamsters know or else they’ll jump you.

But the hamsters are still quite cute so you kinda like them. And you made a few good hamster friends who dont jump you and who loves to sleep in your hands. The Jesus dude also talk a lot about how these hamsters are magical and special and intelligent just like you guys, but honestly you love them because they’re really fluffy. So you and your friends agree to protect the hamsters and their weird IKEA mannequins from evil Dwayne Johnson (or Jeffery).

[kamurawaffles5684]

weird as shit shower thoughts I’ve had about Fallout in regards to biological and medical shit

Are wasteland AFABs able to have hormonal weeks? Because radiation is proven to affect that cycle. So how would one have/carry a child to term? Are they so genetically removed from the pre-war humans that they’ve built a tolerance like the children of atom have?

On that note. What about vault dwellers? If they aren’t exposed to radiation how would their body work? Like sure there’s light energy that the vaults use but like outside of that there’s virtually zero vitamin content they’re getting from what the sun gives off naturally. Do they have supplements that they can take? What if the vault has a bad harvest year? Would they have decent rations or would that be the point of the vault going into disaster like when the Water Chip broke? What if the dwellers left said vault? They aren’t exposed to the same viral infections that wastelanders are. Could they even survive rad sickness? What about medical supplies in general? Sure, they make substitutes with things like Fertilizer n whatnot but what about keeping things sterile? Do wastelanders contract the same illnesses and diseases that people who share needles or have unclean supplies would? How do they purify the radiation out of the water? Do they have immunities to certain levels of radiation?

Also what about the Unity members? What about their bodies? Do they have immunities or are they completely sterile like the Mutants are?

someone pls tell me what they think because holy shit I can’t rn

[czaneavecg]

I love my friend's Hornet's gijinka design so here

@no1knzme I completly forgot your @ name

here's her og sketch (yes I have permition to post this for ref)

[mostly-natm]

Fun in the sun! ☀️🐝🌸

[lorelune]

interview tmrw morning :'^) wish me luck!!!

[psychotic-nonsense]

|| >

There's not much Steve remembers.

There's a group of people walking through the woods, some older, some teens. He's amongst them. The sky is too dark and the trees are too dead. His hands are tight, holding something close. There's an air of panic, stress, hurry, caution. A mistake was made, and they need to escape.

Then instincts flare and the trees descend on them. Sharp rushes of wind, the shrill shrieking of something otherworldly. There's teeth and sharp whips and screaming and gunshots.

Then the swirling mass parts and the shrieks turn human, and Steve remembers the visceral fear of seeing the mass separate. One half rises, carrying a flailing, manic figure, and no no no Robin please no not Robin please no me take me instead you bastards not Robin please no Robin Robin-

Then the other half descends, whips circle his wrists, and the ground falls beneath him. There's screaming behind and before him as the earth fades away, and it's a cruel parallel, floating when all he wants to do is sink.

Robin's thrashing, Steve's thrashing. Their weapons have no use here, where teeth and whips maul them. Amid the pain, all Steve can do is plead to Robin, to forgive, to hope, to fight.

Robin finds the weak spot first. A quick succession of blind swings, a fierce thrash of flailing limbs. The bats scare, release her. But they're too high. Steve feels his throat go coarse as he watches Robin crash into the dead forest below, unable to differentiate the snapping between bark and bone.

Steve finds it in him to copy the act, do the same. And somehow, it works. Somehow, he's weightless.

There's a fierce pressure and the first snap he remembers feeling both on and within his skin-

And Steve wakes up.

It's not sudden, it's gradual. He feels the pains within him slowly throb to life, rousing him from sleep like an anchor rising from the sea. His left hand feels thick, and there's a burning poker laying across his forehead. His jaw feels wrong, and his eye stings and throbs.

His other senses slowly begin to return as well. He's laying down, his head tilted to his left, a bit cramped in the space as something presses around his shoulders. The material he's on isn't very comfortable either, some parts stabbing into his back, and there's a crinkling sound every time he breathes. He hears the faint rippling of water, and somewhere out there, it rushes fast and hard.

It's hell to even think of doing it, but as Steve returns to reality, his instincts rise to the surface, and he knows he has to get up soon. So he opens his eyes. He fights the involuntary tears, wincing as the stinging worsens, then wincing further when his face crumbles in the looping pain.

Finally, he can see a little. Where he is, it's thankfully pretty dark, with only a faint golden glow illuminating the area around him. His eyes strain to see through the darkness past the range of the light-

And then Steve notices where he is. A boathouse. The boathouse. The same one from a night that feels like a lifetime ago, rather than a few weeks. The start of their worst journey, the beginning of a friendship that would grow just to rot into a sour mess of guilt and loneliness.

He's laying within the same boat too...

His eyes focus on some motion across from him. A table covered in a lump of tarps and ratty cloths, and atop it sleeps a figure. Her face is scrunched up in pain, a patch of bloody fabric covering her cheek. One leg has been removed of all clothes, the ankle wrapped and foot elevated. Steve knows her, and instinct briefly overpowers everything else.

"Robs?-" Steve cracks out, his voice sore and rough. His body tries to rise, moving habitually, and he barely rises onto his elbows before the world pounces on him again. It's so strong and he's so weak that he can't move more than the closing of his eyes and the falling of his chin to his chest, can't make a sound louder than a whimper.

Suddenly there's a noise, there's movement beside him. The light glows just a tough brighter, and there's a base warmth suddenly pulsing through his chest.

It's a person, shushing him. Their hand is resting softly on his back, simultaneously supporting him and urging him down.

"Please, stay. It is better for you to rest."

The voice speaks softer than Steve can remember, but he still knows it. It's monotone, sounds ghostly, faint, quiet in a way that has nothing to do with volume, but it's still familiar. Still brings the memories around Steve right into the present, takes him back to that corpse, makes the presence around him feel more melancholic than scary.

Which is funnily enough, even more terrifying.

Steve can't move, can't pull his sight up to face what can't be reality.

"Apologies for the location. We cannot stray too far from the Gates."

The monotone changes to sound almost apologetic, more real, more like what Steve has been craving. It's what finally makes him cave, to turn his eyes to face the impossible.

Who he sees, what he sees, both crushes and rises his hope. Because past everything before him - the inhuman glow, the calm, plain expression - he finds exactly what he's been fighting for.

"Eddie...?" Steve pleads.

The blank face falls, just slightly. Like it's guilty.

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

(cleaner version below)

[bookwormbynight]

Lawlight yuri at the end of the Yotsuba Arc IS "Good Luck Babe" by Chappell Roan but instead of a break up it's murder

[zieroses]

I think one major thing missing in Veilguard is elves making the wrong choice.

As far as I know, it’s not accurate to the lore and history that elves would so easily accept (much less already know, i.e. Strife and Irelin) that their gods are evil. I believe it’s even mentioned at one point (hopefully I didn’t make this up or read it in a post?) that Solas awoke after his long rest to find that not only had the world changed, but the elvhen had gotten it all wrong, reducing him to a trickster god and elevating the Evanuris to shining beacons of worship. And as we know in real life, a lot of people who deeply worship their idols dont so easily accept even the most damning evidence that everything they knew was wrong.

These are our gods, after all; they’ve been gone, and they’re back, and they came back for us. That you stand against them is damning for you. Maybe the Veil Jumpers believe you, but we, the Dalish in general, do not. We know our histories. We know our gods. Plus, if the Dread Wolf is aligned against them, we know which side we want to be on.

So, imagine whole encampments of Dalish - maybe even an entire exodus of them from the south - journeying to join Elgar’nan and Ghilain’nain. Imagine that by the time they arrive, it’s too late; there’s no going back, they’re already under Elgar’nan’s insidious control. There’s no chance of them telling the Dalish clans that follow: we were wrong, go back, do not come, flee. Imagine that alongside the un-nuanced evil power-chasers that are the Venatori and the Antaam, we also have to fight Dalish. Imagine, as an elf, having to make a choice the first time you encounter such an enemy. Can they be saved? And you learn: no, they cannot, and if you tried, you lose a friend, or a contingent of Veil Jumpers, because these Dalish are mind-broken, controlled by Elgar’nan.

Imagine a questline, brought to you by the Veil Jumpers (or even a member of the clan): we’ve located a clan en route to join Elgar’nan, if we hurry, we can stop them before it’s too late. So you hurry, and you intercept them. But can you convince them? Bonus points perhaps if you’re a Dalish elf yourself - bonus points perhaps if you have Davrin or Bellara with you. Three outcomes, maybe: you convince them to stop, and they go to the Veil Jumpers instead, increasing your alliance with that faction; you don’t convince them, and their numbers strengthen Elgar’nan’s, and in a later gut wrenching cutscene you encounter faces you recognize and now have to cut down; or perhaps split down the middle, you convince some but not all, and the bonuses and consequences are both present, but lesser.

Maybe also, if the game had some more nuance regarding the historical way Tevinter treats elves, this can potentially go even more poorly if you are a Shadow Dragon, or a mage. Or a Shadow Dragon mage.

This would’ve “solved” a few problems DATV presented or rather flattened out: the lack of nuance in your enemy (think Corypheus’s lieutenants and the things we learn about them that make them potentially sympathetic) and the lack of nuance in the elvhen response to the revelation of their gods’ return.

[hersterical]

I have a theory that the moment potential slayers lose their potential to be slayers is the same moment that they become older than the original slayer was when she died