#there's at least some snips i can show that are perfect for WIP Wednesday

[drowxiv]

I didn't see the emoji ask game on your blog. So I'm just going to drop this "ask" to say your drow/duskwight have been so fun to follow along with. Your wonderful poses aside, I'm getting into playing a drow for the first time in a tabletop game with friends, despite not being very familiar with them (or D&D as a whole). I have used your writings as reference sometimes, when thinking about how my paladin (of course) would act/behave based on drow society.

Thank you for sharing your OCs with us.

I literally fangirl screamed over this, then sent a screenshot to the one IRL friend I gush about OCs with and WE fangirl screamed together. All to say - I REALLY appreciated it!

This also made me feel way better about a small info dump I was drafting for next week.

I'm HYPED to hear you're playing a Drow and I really hope you enjoy it! They CAN be quite tricky depending on their alignment but that's what I find fun about them!

I also answered publicly so I could add two things!

- my ask box and inbox are open for Drow ideas, questions, gushing, etc. I love speculating on how they may react to scenarios based on their alignment, religion, position in society, and ambitions, etc.

- I don't always reblog games! I participate when I can because it spreads joy and I enjoy learning more about OCs, but sometimes when I know I'm gonna be slammed IRL I won't reblog because I can't answer quickly. I've literally got a tab open on my PC to remind me to play with one more mutual tomorrow morning but I've gotta dive into work right after and it's gonna be a really rough day.

If I played an OC ask with you - you're ALWAYS welcome to play/ask the same thing right back at me even if I didn't reblog!

Not reblogging doesn't mean I don't WANT to play - I just don't want anyone to feel like their 'ask' wasn't good enough if I'm too busy to get to it. I've been there and it's a bad feeling wondering if you messed up.

[chessalein]

WIP Wednesday

So I got tagged by @theviridianbunny and @heywoodvirgin

Tbh, I don't have that much to show.

I keep writing my fanfic and I'm working on a drawing.

Lets start with the writing :)

This is a part of chapter 45 of "Bringing back the sun"

It focuses on Valerie and what she did doing chapter 44.

Amata’s dark voice felt so soft in Val’s ears. She could imagen how she sometimes would sing to Nori who seemed to share the love for music. Not wanting to interrupt the humming, she sneaked down to the source of it. She came to a hold at a reception that had a big book laying on top of it. “Guestbook” was written in golden letters on the leather cover. Only two Names were written in it. A sad reminder that this place was never used how it was intended to. Something that was off, was how the first name looked like. Wonky, ugly letters that couldn’t be held by the lines they were supposed to be written on. “Elenore Finch” Underneath in perfect cursive writing stood the name of the lady that was working in the back right now. “Amata” Something seemed odd but Valerie’s tired mind couldn’t point out why. “Do you want to write in it as well?” Blue eyes and a warm smile looked at her, holding files in her arms. “Would it be okay?” “Of course. You’re a guest, aren’t you? You would help the book to fulfill its purpose. At least something in this building would be able to.” There was a nostalgic, sad feeling in the way Amata said it. She wanted to think about it, but her head was already going into sleep mode and didn’t bother to look for the meaning in it, so she wrote down her name and looked at it for a while. “I think its time for you to rest. Let’s get you home. They are already waiting for you.”

Yea, thats the snipped.

And here is a part of the drawing I'm working on right now ♥

Its okay till now.

Its supposed to be Nori in a Swimmsuit making a new friend because there are a lot of flowers on it.

Thats all!

Whoever wants to post some WIP can do it!

[heyitsani]

I always miss WIP Wednesday and I hate myself for it.  I don’t even know what to call Thursday snip-its.  But here is a small piece from tomorrow’s chapter of I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All the Time.  Completely unedited because that’s my tomorrow morning project, so be kind.

Damian is young in this next chapter and I struggled a bit to write him because he doesn’t understand a lot about people and emotions.  He observes reactions and shifts in emotions, but he doesn’t understand what they mean.  So in a way he’s kind of an unreliable narrator at this point in time.  And remember that he is being raised by Dick and Catalina, not Talia, so he is not the Damian of canon. Some personality traits transcend, but ones based on experiences will not.

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Frowning at the cloaks the tailor slipped over his shoulders, Damian wondered why exactly he had to wear all these uncomfortable garments for his uncle’s wedding.  He had been to banquets and fancy parties before, but he had never had to wear all these heavy layers that were stiff and thick.  

“Honestly, Your Highness, they cannot be that unfortunate,” the tailor teased as he adjusted some of the gold edging on the outer cloak.  “Your father made much the same face when he attended his first wedding as the Crowned Prince.  So much of him in you.”  Damian looked at the man through the looking glass and considered him.  

“Stu, these look perfect,” Damian looked up to see his father walking into the room, dressed in his own ceremonial garbs.  “Are they the same design as the ones you made me for my first?”  The king walked over to stand in front of Damian, smiling down at the younger before looking at the tailor.

Stu waved a hand but bowed his head in the expected respectful manner as he continued to work on a piece.  “They are actually your old garments.  Your father brought them to me and said you would like that particular sentimentality.” Watching his father’s smile turn from friendly to something the five-year-old wasn’t quite sure how to label, Damian frowned.

“He’s not wrong,” his father said softly, looking back to Damian.  “But something tells me that you are enjoying them about as much as I did at your age.”  His father chuckled as he brushed a hand through the raven locks on his head before resting the hand on his shoulder.

“Yes well, he is his father’s son.”  The king laughed but kept his eyes on Damian.  “I am almost finished.  The Queen was quite insistent that I work as quickly as possible.  But these old bones can only move so quickly these days.” The smile on his father’s face faltered slightly at the mention of his mother but was quickly put back into place.

“She is a particular woman.”

The old tailor simply hummed and continued to work, but Damian kept a close eye on his father. Though he was only five, he could tell when there were things being unsaid. Ser Jason had started showing him how to watch people to read more than just what their words told them.  And his father always said much more with his expression and body then he did with his words, he was coming to find.  But that didn’t mean he understood any of it yet.

“Do you understand your role today, son?”  His father turned his full attention back to Damian, and the younger nodded.  His mother had drilled it into her, demanding nothing but perfection in his memory of what he was supposed to do.

Straightening his spine and lifting his chin, he looked up at his father.  “Mother made sure I knew what to do.  She…impressed upon me the importance of my role.”

“Did she?”  His father’s voice sounded odd.  “And what did your mother have to say about the possibility of making a mistake?”

“To not to.”

“Of course she did,” his father said, but Damian just furrowed his brows.  He didn’t understand why his father suddenly looked angry.  Had he done something wrong?  Said something wrong?  The hand that had been resting on his shoulder fell away and his father took a step back, smoothing down the front of his robes while taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

“Father?”

His father watched him for a moment before answering, his tone controlled but it didn’t match the look in his eyes.  “Your uncle is glad to have you carry his hand fasting box for him.  He will be happy with your performance no matter what mistakes might be made.  Anyone who tells you differently will have to deal with me.”

“Those sound like fighting words, My King,” an amused voice sounded from the door and Damian’s frown turned to a smile at the sight of Ser Jason leaning against the wall, arms crossed over the rich red of his cloaks.  “Should you be teaching a five-year-old such things?”

“Oh please,” Stu sounded, drawing Damian’s gaze.  “I have been around long enough to know he is this way because of you.”  Ser Jason let out a laugh and Damian could hear his father chuckling, but Damian’s attention was on the man at his feet.  “Now, I believe I am done.  Does it have your approval, Your Majesty?”

“Impeccable as always. But Stu honestly, when will you just call me Richard?  You’re practically family.”  The older man stood and brushed himself off before looking over at the king.  “Don’t give me that look.  You have never stood upon propriety before.  Least of all with me.”

“Yes well, you have always been your own force.  Perhaps His Highness will feel differently.”

“You mean perhaps he’s being influenced differently than his father.”

“Jason.”  

“Sorry, My King.” Damian looked between the three men and tried to figure out what exactly they were talking about, but none of it made any sense to him.  He felt like these kinds of conversations happened a lot around him.  About him.  “I did come here with a purpose.  His former Majesty is gathering everyone for the ceremony and requested I collect the two of you.  Appears you finished just in the nick of time, Stu.”