#very fun indeed

[moonstruckdraws]

Morning Grass

Deciding to finally use the excuse of practicing my rendering skills as a reason to start making Sky art.

I love this game; it is extremely pretty (though I get flash-banged every transition lmao). Decided to draw my avatar kickin' some grass

So expect to see more of this character (and prob others) time to time

[pseudomicrothoraxdubius]

Chat broke Cleo with a level 17 spite train They said you can't keep me here forever and the chat answered with: Bet🤨

[fallenspirit]

the latest hitman elusive target was really fun to play

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

With her note on hand, Faust gives a mighty squawk as he takes off from Doe’s port window and disappears from sight.

The ship is busy with activity as things hear up for the morning, deckhands cleaning and rigging, prepping sails and ammunitions. But even in the bustle of the ship around her as she moves from her quarters to the main deck, it’s not hard to spot Gale and Astarion among the rest.

Her loves continue to bicker at the helm - not quite loud enough for their words to be overhead, but it’s clear from the gesticulating and posture that the two are hashing out something heated and emotional.

Gale, despite his counter arguments is setting a new course even as they argue. Turning away from the pair and looking towards the horizon she watches the morning mist clearing off the water to give way to calm seas and clear skies. The wind pulls at sails and whips at her hair.

Unease pulls at her stomach as she waits - doing her best to ignore the continuing confrontation at the helm as it only increases the discomfort roiling beneath the surface. Doe takes a deep steadying breath to calm the ever growing feeling of lightning fizzling under her skin.

There’s a sound like a blazing fire roaring to life beside her that draws Doe’s attention. Sure enough when she turns Doe catches a glimpse of the last flickers of a ball of flames just past the starboard railing as it dissipates - leaving behind a little black bird.

Faust - returned already.

The jackdaw glides his way over to the railing beside where Doe is leaning. He lands smoothly, little taloned feet gripping onto the wood. Faust crows, spreading his wings wide as he hops along the railing before his mistress.

Tail feathers swaying back and forth as he moves, Faust walks the remaining short distance to Doe, looking quite pleased to be by her side once more.

“Hello, little love,” she murmurs with surprise. He chitters happily as the sorceress greets him with an affectionate pat and scritch.

Doe checks his ankles - but there’s no letter. No indication of a reply at all. That is, until Faust himself delivers the message.

He opens his beak, and in a startling imitation of Raphael’s voice, Faust speaks.

“Don’t get cold feet now - I have plenty of time for a friend in need.”

The black bird hops about on the railing again, fluffing his wings as if nothing were amiss. Then he flits up to Doe’s shoulder, nuzzling against her cheek. Before Doe can fully process the almost unsettling ability of her sweet companion, Faust speaks again.

“Come step into my office.”

'Wait, what?' Doe stares at the jackdaw, thoroughly spooked. Before she fully has a handle on things, her periphery morphs, shimmering from the sparkling sea and the toiling crew and the solid wooden deck of the ship to the orange of flame. Faust is still pressed against her cheek, his head tucked under her chin. 'What the fuck- we're all teleporting…?'

And she is engulfed in flame, the deck beneath her feet vanishing. Her stomach lurches and she squeezes her eyes shut until her feet strike hard floor, near unbearable heat pressing in, the atmosphere thick and cloying. She takes a few breaths to calm her heart, turns her head to where she hopes Astarion or Gale might be, and opens her eyes.

They're not here. No. No, this wasn't supposed to- she feels panic scrabble up her throat, lets out a shaky breath. And finally turns.

The room she finds herself in now is nothing like the roughhewn shanty tavern where Doe had first met Raphael. Everything here is lavish. Positively ornate to the point of garishness. The hardwood of the floor gleams save for where it's covered by intricately woven rugs of ruby, black, and gold - or as is the case of the fireplace, with the furry hide of some great creature. The walls are decorated with gaudy portraits of cambions in royal attire - save for the far wall made up entirely of a dark wooden bookshelf.

The room would almost be cozy if the heat were not so oppressive and stifling.

But most unsettling of all is the other occupant in the room. Seated behind a massive desk of solid wood with a polished marble top and big clawed feet, is Raphael.

But not the charming, lean figure she had danced with before.

"Ah, there you are, my dear friend," he purrs in a dulcet baritone.

No, rising to his feet from behind the desk is the true Raphael. Impossibly tall, broad shouldered, and all sharp angles. Striking features all the more enhanced by the rich red of his skin and the crown of his massive horns. As he stands to his full height and straightens his doublet, Raphael's wings flare slightly behind him.

"Nice of you to join me," Raphael croons with a deadly sharp smile, blazing orange eyes settling on her. "I've been terribly worried after your last letter - so urgent, yet so quick to turn heel."

Icy terror slips into her gut as he rises. I've made a grave mistake. Frozen in place, she dares not look away from his piercing gaze. She feels impossibly small. Only the warm press of feathers against her neck grounds her.

'-quick to turn heel.'

And just like that, defiance and anger flare in her chest. 'I'm not a coward,' she says, fear melting into hard determination. I am not your plaything. She stands to her full height, moves forward into the room. You don't scare me. 'I just don't think,' she says, her voice finally under control, 'we have much to offer one another. I told you I wouldn't owe you, Raphael, and I mean it. No deals, no pacts, no payment of any kind. So you might as well send me back home now.'

His lips twist in a sly, satisfied smile as she blusters. His tail swishes and curls behind him as he feels the tell-tale buzz of static in the air around them.

"Now, now," Raphael starts, raising his hands slightly in a mild placation, "Merely a turn of phrase, no judgement intended. It's not as though you ran."

His eyes wander over her face, taking in her hair and features, the charming way her scar has healed.

"Indulge my curiosity, at least," he muses with a smile, "You sent a letter seeking aid hardly a night past our introduction. Yet now, you do not want to even talk."

His lips purse as he lifts a hand to his chin, long taloned fingers tapping idly against his skin. One brow arches imperiously as he considers her.

"Why?"

Faust ruffles beneath her chin, leaning forward to stare at Raphael almost defensively.

"Home!" The jackdaw squawks. "Doe go home!"

She places a gentle hand on Faust's head, stroking softly to calm him. You promised honesty. 'Because I got things wrong,' she says, feeling her hair lift slightly as her attempt to remain calm slips. 'I thought you might be able to help me gather information about marids and how their particular brand of-' she gestures with one hand, trying to find the word, '-impressment works. I figured you might know something, given your nature. But…' she trails off, unsure what more to reveal. 'I don't think they work quite the same way.'

She regards him, his slightly smug expression, the thoughtful hand on his chin. Taking another step forward, she says, 'your turn. Why do you want to help so much?' You're in the business of gathering souls, but you won't have mine, devil. 'If you really want to know, you can ask my companions yourself. If it please you.'

Faust nuzzles against her neck, still puffing up his chest and keeping his eyes on the cambion. Raphael watches the bird with a curious eye raise.

Listening intently to Doe's explanation, that curious gaze raises to the sorceress herself. Prudent little thing - to work out so easily that he is a valuable resource…

"Mm, no, we certainly do not work in the same ways," Raphael muses, "But that doesn't mean I'm without knowledge on the subject."

Regarding her with intent and lingering interest, the cambion unwinds his arms and slowly strides around his desk. His fingers trail over the gleaming surface as he rounds the corner and comes to a halt in front of his desk. Raphael turns his gaze to the rows of tomes on his wall. The blazing orange of his eyes moves back and forth as he scans the shelves, searching for something in particular.

The cambion pauses, turning to look at her once more. His lips quirk up with a charming smile.

"Am I not allowed to be helpful?" His tone is almost amused - though there's an underlying challenge beneath. "Surely a clever thing like you can see the value in making powerful friends?"

'Of course I can,' she says, crossing her arms. 'If I didn't, I'd never have sent the letter in the first place, I'm not a fool. I also know that payment for such friendship is steep. You don't do anything for free.'

She approaches, gazing up at the wall of books, wondering what knowledge could lay within. They are side by side when she speaks next, not looking at him. 'I know Faust was supposed to spy on me.' Doe raises a brow, catching the cambion's eye with her own demanding gaze. 'Now why the hells would a friend do that? What are you angling for? Surely not my soul, that's frankly too gauche.' She turns, leaning a hip against his desk, exactly as she'd leaned against the ship railing. 'You're a clever man. There's no way you couldn't know I'd figure it out.' Her lips quirk upwards. 'So, dear friend, you want to help. Let's say I believe you're genuine about this. You help me with the resources at your disposal-' she gestures to the bookcase, '-and then… what?'

"'Spy' is such a troublesome word," Raphael muses, watching her with an intrigued smirk. His tone shifts lower as he adds, "Your new friend here is not meant for subterfuge."

Faust puffs up again where he huddles amongst Doe's hair. "Doe's Faust! Doe's Faust!"

Raphael rolls his eyes, but doesn't comment - his mild annoyance belied by his coiling tail and the brief flaring of his wings. But his demeanor shifts as he considers her questions. The cambion steps closer, looming over her slightly - though it's hard to tell if it's an intentional choice or if it's just a part of his presence in this form.

"You're perceptive, little songbird," he murmurs with an approving smile. "I've always found diatribe solely for the sake of dinner rather dull." Raphael pauses, his eyes roaming her features once more, that hellfire color blazing in pitch with a glint of something almost predatory. "No, I think our relationship could be much more…mutually beneficial than that."

'So many compliments,' she says coolly. 'And yet I sense you actually mean them.' She is feigning nonchalance- the loom of him over her spooks her a little, but she does not step back. 'But you still haven't answered me. No soul, fine. That happens sometimes. So what-'

Her eyes widen suddenly, her heartbeat picking up into the panicked thrash of wings against cage, all cool bravado vanished. 'You can't be suggesting…' she shakes her head. 'I told you. No pacts. And the only 'mutually beneficial' relationship I've heard of between mortal and devil is a warlock. So what the hells else could you possibly mean?'

His cool smile widens into something that gleams with malice at the way her confident façade breaks. His wings flare with something like pride.

"No, my dear," he returns, leaning down a little closer to her, "Nothing so grandiose. I've no need for a little warlock like you…"

Raphael's gaze turns shrewd, considering her thoughtfully. "No, I imagine you'd be a thorn in my side if we were bound by a pact."

The cambion straightens, though it hardly dulls the effect of his imposing stature.

"What I want is much more simple than that," he says after a brief moment. Watching her, taking in the delight of her panic and concern and the way she bristles at his comments. "I think you and I have a common interest."

She takes a step back, the edges of her vision blurring as panic fully sets in. She balls her hands into fists, sets her jaw, tries to bite it back. She breathes sharply until her vision clears, can feel blood in her palms, growls softly as she brute forces herself back to a state of relative calm. When she looks up at him again, her eyes are steel. I will not be weak. Not in front of you.

'I'd love to know what you think that is. Because all I can think is power. That's what you embody, isn't it? All you devils pulling one another down to get to the top of the hierarchy. You want control. You want to know nobody will best you ever again.'

She is talking about herself, she knows. But she sees it in him, too.

'I was supposed to come here with my companions. Allow me that, at least.'

She will not ask. Certainly will not beg. She holds his gaze, challenging even as blood rolls in slow rivulets down her wrists.

He doesn't contradict her sentiments - they both know she's not wrong. About either of them. Raphael's nostrils flare and his eyes dart down to her hands where they ball into fists.

"Ah, ah," he tuts his tongue against his teeth. Those large hands move quick to grasp her wrists and raise her hands up, inspecting the cuts to her palms from her nails digging in.

"What will they say if they come here to my office and see you bleeding? Hm?" He shifts his gaze to her eyes and arches a brow. "That's no way to build a trusting relationship."

He sighs a long dramatic breath, shaking his head slightly.

"I'd be more than happy to explain, my dear songbird." Raphael's tone lilts upward as he tells her with a grin, "And I would be quite pleased to finally make the acquaintance of your 'husband to be presumptive' and your little tag-along wizard. I'm quite sure all our interests align."

His wings flare wide, stretching out in both directions and suddenly making the large room feel much, much narrower. The cambion releases one of her hands to wave one dramatic arm to one side. And then, with a wicked gleam to his eyes, snaps his fingers with a click and a flick of flames between thumb and finger.

Behind them in the room, there's a loud wooshing and the crackle of flames.

[l0ganberry]

Back at making more clay charms of our beautiful neighbors (FINALLY!!)

BONUS:

Head

[i-mybrunettelady]

One of the funniest things about speaking of a native speaker of your target language is the weird discrepancy in your abilities to discuss certain things. For example, I could explain to a native French speaker my thoughts on certain literary movements, but I'm also not sure whether I told her I was bored or boring. Thankfully she understood me but I'm questioning myself now lmao

[bethiewhimsy]

asra got me giggling & kicking my feet & shit

[2-dsimp]

Doesn't this just scream that we're gonna have a fun time

😇

@campanula-rotundifolia

[gummybugg]

(Penpal letter to Morgana, from Lizzy) Hey Hey! How's it going? My name's Lizzy! I wanted to try and make new friends, so I thought I'd send a stranger a letter. Hope this is okay, and hope your day is going great! Let's see, a little about me... My passions are animals, photography, and good music. I'm a wildlife biologist currently working to help sustain our ecosystems. (I'll try not to bore you with work stuff though.) I try not to pick favorites, but my fav animal would probably be the bobcat. I also have a ferret at home. He's so cute, his name is Muffin! Heard you are/were in college? What were you studying? I always encourage people to keep going as much as they can and try their best. Even if you don't use it, a degree looks good to employers. There's always tons of tutors and stuff too! (I know history, geography, and stuff was never my strong suit.) Can't wait to hear back! - Lizzy C.

Hello Lizzy,

I'm not quite sure how you got my address, and frankly, I don't really think I'd want to know. You seem to have good intentions, so I suppose it wouldn't hurt to respond. Besides, I'm lonely, and I don't think I've spoken to another (living) person in a while, and it'd be nice to have a pen pal of sorts.

I suppose I should introduce myself. As you know, I'm Morgana (I promise it's a very masculine name where I'm from), and my favorite activities are journaling, collecting vinyls, writing messages in bottles, and people watching. We seem to share an interest in photography, which I find very curious. I like to take pictures of places after dark or places that illicit nostalgia, how about you? Also, what are some of your favorite bands? I like Weezer, the Wallows, the Ramones, and The Rolling Stones.

I love rodents and ferrets! In fact, I have a few....pet mice. They're named Juniper, Addison, and Vinnie. I really enjoy their company even though they are a bit irritating at times and don't always understand what personal space is. I can feel them looming over my shoulder, giggling, as I write this...

I'm not sure how you know I was a dropout, and it's not something I'm proud of, but I used to major in journalism--no surprise there. Things just got to be too much, and I let my solitude get the best of me. I do envy those who get to have the "college experience" because it's something I know I was never cut out to have....but I digress.

I suppose a break from school will do. Fuck tuition costs, fuck scholarships, I'm going back when I'm ready. And when I have a better hold on my life. Don't tell my parents I'm still not in college because they don't even have a clue where I am right now. I'm sure they already got a search party going after me, but they're going to find out soon enough that I mean what I say: I will not let them back into my life again.

I apologize for the rant since we don't even know each other that well. But I do sincerely hope to hear from you soon.

Signed,

Morgana

[weezley]

destructible environments with a repair spell to fix them is such a fun mechanic

[post-it-notes7]

You've spoken. A secret shall be yours.

[bleetusmcyeetus]

See fnaf brainrot is good up until the point when you remember that it is, in fact, a rather scary thing and there is, in fact, an entire game set inside a house at night, which is, in fact, where you are right now, and that is, in fact, genuinely fucking terrifying, and it doesn’t help that there are creepy murderous robots in the game, and in real life the books on one of your shelves do, in fact, resemble that silly little puppet guy, which is leading you to not want to look away from that shelf, and this all leads you to remember why you fell out of you first fnaf phase

[koszmarnybudyn]

Monster John is something that can be so very special.

[sofiaruelle]

Commission for the lovely @flowerandthesongstress of our fave triad, Sam, Abigail and Sebastian basking in the afterglow of a very productive band practice.

The Companion piece

[silvershayde]

Bruh going through these photos is so fun, i havent seen alot of these so im just going woahhhh, ooooo, so pretty wth

[hauntingofhouses]

Very interesting to me that a certain subset of the BES fandom's favourite iterations of Mizu and Akemi are seemingly rooted in the facades they have projected towards the world, and are not accurate representations of their true selves.

And I see this is especially the case with Mizu, where fanon likes to paint her as this dominant, hyper-masculine, smirking Cool GuyTM who's going to give you her strap. And this idea of Mizu is often based on the image of her wearing her glasses, and optionally, with her cloak and big, wide-brimmed kasa.

And what's interesting about this, to me, is that fanon is seemingly falling for her deliberate disguise. Because the glasses (with the optional combination of cloak and hat) represent Mizu's suppression of her true self. She is playing a role.

Take this scene of Mizu in the brothel in Episode 4 for example. Here, not only is Mizu wearing her glasses to symbolise the mask she is wearing, but she is purposely acting like some suave and cocky gentleman, intimidating, calm, in control. Her voice is even deeper than usual, like what we hear in her first scene while facing off with Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Episode 1.

This act that Mizu puts on is an embodiment of masculine showboating, which is highly effective against weak and insecure men like Hachi, but also against women like those who tried to seduce her at the Shindo House.

And that brings me to how Mizu's mask is actually a direct parallel to Akemi's mask in this very same scene.

Here, Akemi is also putting up an act, playing up her naivety and demure girlishness, using her high-pitched lilted voice, complimenting Mizu and trying to make small talk, all so she can seduce and lure Mizu in to drink the drugged cup of sake.

So what I find so interesting and funny about this scene, characters within it, and the subsequent fandom interpretations of both, is that everyone seems to literally be falling for the mask that Mizu and Akemi are putting up to conceal their identities, guard themselves from the world, and get what they want.

It's also a little frustrating because the fanon seems to twist what actually makes Mizu and Akemi's dynamic so interesting by flattening it completely. Because both here and throughout the story, Mizu and Akemi's entire relationship and treatment of each other is solely built off of masks, assumptions, and misconceptions.

Akemi believes Mizu is a selfish, cocky male samurai who destroyed her ex-fiance's career and life, and who abandoned her to let her get dragged away by her father's guards and forcibly married off to a man she didn't know. on the other hand, Mizu believes Akemi is bratty, naive princess who constantly needs saving and who can't make her own decisions.

These misconceptions are even evident in the framing of their first impressions of each other, both of which unfold in these slow-motion POV shots.

Mizu's first impression of Akemi is that of a beautiful, untouchable princess in a cage. Swirling string music in the background.

Akemi's first impression of Mizu is of a mysterious, stoic "demon" samurai who stole her fiance's scarf. Tense music and the sound of ocean waves in the background.

And then, going back to that scene of them together in Episode 4, both Mizu and Akemi continue to fool each other and hold these assumptions of each other, and they both feed into it, as both are purposely acting within the suppressive roles society binds them to in order to achieve their goals within the means they are allowed (Akemi playing the part of a subservient woman; Mizu playing the part of a dominant man).

But then, for once in both their lives, neither of their usual tactics work.

Akemi is trying to use flattery and seduction on Mizu, but Mizu sees right through it, knowing that Akemi is just trying to manipulate and harm her. Rather than give in to Akemi's tactics, Mizu plays with Akemi's emotions by alluding to Taigen's death, before pinning her down, and then when she starts crying, Mizu just rolls her eyes and tells her to shut up.

On the opposite end, when Mizu tries to use brute force and intimidation, Akemi also sees right through it, not falling for it, and instead says this:

"Under your mask, you're not the killer you pretend to be."

Nonetheless, despite the fact that they see a little bit through each other's masks, they both still hold their presumptions of each other until the very end of the season, with Akemi seeing Mizu as an obnoxious samurai swooping in to save the day, and Mizu seeing Akemi as a damsel in distress.

And what I find a bit irksome is that the fandom also resorts to flattening them to these tropes as well.

Because Mizu is not some cool, smooth-talking samurai with a big dick sword as Akemi (and the fandom) might believe. All of that is the facade she puts up and nothing more. In reality, Mizu is an angry, confused and lonely child, and a masterful artist, who is struggling against her own self-hatred. Master Eiji, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

And Akemi, on the other hand, is not some girly, sweet, vain and spoiled princess as Mizu might believe. Instead she has never cared for frivolous things like fashion, love or looks, instead favouring poetry and strategy games instead, and has always only cared about her own independence. Seki, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.

But neither is she some authoritative dominatrix, though this is part of her new persona that she is trying to project to get what she wants. Because while Akemi is willful, outspoken, intelligent and authoritative, she can still be naive! She is still often unsure and needs to have her hand held through things, as she is still learning and growing into her full potential. Her new parental/guardian figure, Madame Kaji, knows this as well.

So with all that being said, now that we know that Mizu and Akemi are essentially wearing masks and putting up fronts throughout the show, what would a representation of Mizu's and Akemi's true selves actually look like? Easy. It's in their hair.

This shot on the left is the only time we see Mizu with her hair completely down. In this scene, she's being berated by Mama, and her guard is completely down, she has no weapon, and is no longer wearing any mask, as this is after she showed Mikio "all of herself" and tried to take off the mask of a subservient housewife. Thus, here, she is sad, vulnerable, and feeling small (emphasised further by the framing of the scene). This is a perfect encapsulation of what Mizu is on the inside, underneath all the layers of revenge-obsession and the walls she's put around herself.

In contrast, the only time we Akemi with her hair fully down, she is completely alone in the bath, and this scene takes place after being scorned by her father and left weeping at his feet. But despite all that, Akemi is headstrong, determined, taking the reigns of her life as she makes the choice to run away, but even that choice is reflective of her youthful naivety. She even gets scolded by Seki shortly after this in the next scene, because though she wants to be independent, she still hasn't completely learned to be. Not yet. Regardless, her decisiveness and moment of self-empowerment is emphasised by the framing of the scene, where her face takes up the majority of the shot, and she stares seriously into the middle distance.

To conclude, I wish popular fanon would stop mischaracterising these two, and flattening them into tropes and stereotypes (ie. masculine badass swordsman Mizu and feminine alluring queen but also girly swooning damsel Akemi), all of which just seems... reductive. It also irks me when Akemi is merely upheld as a love interest and romantic device for Mizu and nothing more, when she is literally Mizu's narrative foil (takes far more narrative precedence over romantic interest) and the deuteragonist of this show. She is her own person. That is literally the theme of her entire character and arc.