#votgs

[superstarshowcase]

gloomtown tour nyc + boston photo dump for tumblr :)))))

[taxiedermist]

[ ID: A set of digital drawings of two stylized characters named Tim and Saul in differing outfits. Tim is a thin white man with heterochromia and light brown hair. He has a thin mustache and a mole on his right cheek. He has a worried and awkward expression on his face. His design’s overall shape is rectangular, most prominently seen in his torso and head. Saul is a fat man with brown skin who is significantly shorter than Tim. His overall body shape is an upside-down U. He has black hair, a big nose, and a bushy mustache. He has a friendly expression on his face.

In the first drawing, Tim is wearing a pale yellow collared shirt with a square tie and suspenders that are light blue. He has brown plaid knickerbocker pants, knee-high light blue socks, and oxford shoes that are brown and cream. Saul is wearing a white collared shirt with a wide tie and suspenders that are red. He has dark grey dress pants with thick pinstripes and black dress shoes.

In the second drawing, Tim is wearing a newsboy cap and coat. They both match the plaid of his pants, though the cap is a paler shade of brown. Saul is wearing a large, dark green trenchcoat with red elbow patches. He is also wearing a newsboy cap, which is plaid and the same dark grey as his pants. /End ID ]

[oddlyautumnal-moved]

VotG: Felicity - “Hot Faced” unfinished animatic

The first few scenes of this were sitting in my files for months until I picked this back up as a final for an animation class. Most of it is still roughs but I’d ideally like to come back and visit it some day. Again I’m just happy to have my head amvs down in some form lol

[le-velo-pour-dru]

I see the dash is having very normal feelings about Visitation of the Ghost tonight 👍

[voicesofthegrid]

VotG - APRIL ‘73 (One-Shot)

FOUND HERE.

Wrote this a couple months ago but just got to posting it somewhere. It’s always so rewarding to write scenes with these guys :-)

[moorwood]

Not sure if you will elaborate on this because it’s a bit of a heavier topic but how do the twins pass away in your story? what happens to wyatt in 93?

Sorry I’m just getting to this now!!

Wyatt and Winona die in their respective towers, helping people get out. In 93 Wyatt receives a broken leg from the explosion and I’m not sure about specifics beyond that tbh

I think if I were to go more in depth about this anywhere it’d be either on the VotG blog itself or in writing

[29121996]

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[le-velo-pour-dru]

[Image ID: A version of the Stick Figure Violence meme that reads, "girls* when the brobecks (fancy studio version)". /end ID]

[acaesic]

concert happenings

- i fully held dallon’s hand (votg)

- i got to give him my art (not directly, but still!)

- he answered my question at the qna, said my name, made consistent eye contact with me, and spoke to me directly for several minutes

- out of 20-30 questions, and out of the 5 he answered, he picked mine

- i was in the front row right by him! there was no barricade. we were standing right in front of the stage and were able to sit down on it.

- i thought it was a joke but my neck genuinely hurts now from having to look up at him.

- played motdf twice

- during the qna, he said he felt like he didnt have enough leverage while sitting on stage so all of us vips sat down on the floor (very cute, very silly)

- dallon weekes

- he politely yelled at us for not continually singing the “oh my lord”s in votg (id share a video but thats when my phone died😭)

[decaydanceredacted]

good LOWRD the video of dallon from the vancouver show when the audience forgot to keep singing during votg. i neeeeeed him so badly jesus christ. “you did this to yourselves” this man needs to overstimulate me NOW i want to be reduced to a sobbing mess because i didn’t listen to him and now i have to get fucked stupid by him. sorry. no i’m not

.

[taxiedermist]

[ ID: A concept art drawing of an original character, Winter Brookfield (any pronouns), sitting at a pale orange bench with light and dark speckles. They are sitting with their chin resting in their hands, facing the viewer. A golden retriever service dog is sitting at their side with her head in their lap, looking up at them. On the other side there is a red and white mobility cane propped up on the bench.

Winter is a short and chubby person with tan skin, freckles, and scruffy facial hair. They are wearing dark sunglasses that completely obscure their eyes and have dark ginger hair that falls down to their shoulders. They are wearing a blue sweater with darker blue pants. There is a rainbow bracelet tied around one of their wrists.

The drawing is mostly obscured by a grainy black spotlight around the bench. Inside the spotlight and around Winter is a purple-red background that suggests they are sitting outside in front of a building. There is a metal fence in the foreground. Outside the spotlight, there are palm trees sketched into the shadows. End ID ]

[oddlyautumnal-moved]

VotG: Roxie - “Cartoons & Vodka” short animatic

A little something I made a while back in like an hour just to get the imagery out of my head and down on paper.

[voicesofthegrid]

VotG - Topaz Blue

A story exploring the emotions of Edward Barnes during the events of 9/11. Content warning for depiction of 9/11, mild suicidal/self-harm ideation, and emotional distress.

6 AM: BEEP BEEP BEEP BE– CLICK. My fist slams down on my alarm clock, rattling the bedside table that it sits on. I groan and roll over, covering my eyes with my forearm  to block out the beams of sunlight filtering through my curtains before grasping the covers and throwing them off of me. Another sleepless night. Must just be too much on my mind. Maybe I ought to get my apology over with today. I’ll have to think about it when I’m not still half asleep. I never make good decisions before coffee. 

6:07 AM: The shower hisses to life as I turn the knob just a hair away from the highest temperature. Wispy steam rises from the water, filling the small room with wavering clouds. 

6:29 AM: Goddamnit. Got lost in thought again. There goes my sit-down breakfast. At least I can read the paper on the train. 

6:42 AM: I adjust my hat in the hallway mirror. My eyebags are dark and heavy. 

6:50 AM: Thank god for travel mugs, huh? My brother was nice enough to have coffee ready for me as I rushed out the door. And to think we hated each other at one point. I take a sip as I sink into my seat in the subway car, snapping open today’s newspaper. Just a touch of sweetness. Exactly how I like it. 

7:33 AM: The door to my office clicks shut behind me. I hang up my coat and hat on the rack in the corner, just as I have for the past… However many years I’ve been here. I pull the shade that hangs over my window up to gaze out on the city before I start my work for the day. Nary a cloud mars the topaz blue of the sky that extends out as far as the eye can see. I glance at the World Trade Center in the distance, the two great towers that anchor the campus. They stare back at me with their thousands of tiny windows, unblinking. Judging me. I have got to apologize to those kids. I just… can’t believe how goddamn immature I’ve been. Fuck. 

8:05 AM: I tap my pen impatiently against my desk. Guilt is making it incredibly hard to focus on the task at hand. 

8:43 AM: Goddamnit. I’m not going to get anything done like this. I’ve been up and pacing around my office for the past twenty minutes. I can feel those towers with their thousands of little eyes on my back burning straight through to my soul. Fuck it. I’m going home and I’m apologizing to the kids. Work can wait. I frantically shuffle papers into my desk and lock it shut before marching over to the coat-rack in the corner of my office. I grab my hat and—

8:46 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

I wheel around. There’s a dull thump as my hat falls from my grasp. My jaw hangs open in… Shock? Awe? Terror? I don’t even… I don’t know what to call it. I can’t name it. I just feel it. 

I rush to the window. 

There on the North Tower – Wyatt’s building – Is a gaping maw of shredded steel spewing black smoke. 

Shit.

Is he hurt? What the hell caused… That? 

I rip my phone from its cradle and frantically dial home to my brother with trembling hands.

“Clarence…?” My voice breaks as I barely choke out his name. 

“Yeah, I – No, I don’t know what happened– Clarence– I– A plane? How? What?”

9:03 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: BOOM. 

A soft gasp and a muffled sob filter through the receiver. 

I look up from my desk. I… Know… I know what must have happened but I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to see. But I force myself to look anyway. 

A gash clawed through the South Tower – Winona’s building – is spewing the same black smoke that her brother’s building is. Oh my god.

“Clarence?” I ask, trepidation thick in my throat, “Are you…?”

He sees it too. I’m not dreaming. A nightmare then, surely. I… No, no this isn’t real this is just some god-awful nightmare, my subconscious trying to teach me a lesson. 

Some… cruel trick. 

9:33 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I haven’t been able to peel my eyes off of the smoke pouring from the Towers. I have no idea where the twins are. If they’re hurt. They have to be hurt. I remember when I – No, no. Goddamnit, Ed. Don’t think about you. This is about them. They’re hurt. I hurt them. I. Fuck. They’ll be okay, right? If I survived back in ‘45, surely… 

9:35 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: They’re evacuating my building. What happened to the towers is deliberate. 

I’m not leaving.

A captain always goes down with his ship. 

If I’m next, so be it. Maybe I deserve it after what I put those kids through. 

9:38 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I tell Clarence I’m leaving. I lie. I don’t want him to worry about me. 

Click.

I keep my hand on the phone for a moment after I’ve returned it to its cradle. I wish I could tell him how much he means to me. I wish I had been a better brother. 

I go to my liquor cabinet. I pour myself a drink. The good stuff. 

9:58 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: Smoke is still pouring from the gaping wounds in the towers. I am numb. Sunken into my chair. Eyes glued to the blackened horizon in my window. My glass dangles precariously in my loose grasp. 

9:59 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: CRACK. 

The glass falls from my limp hand and shatters on the floor as I bolt upwards out of my chair.

She’s gone.

The South Tower… Winona… It… She’s… Just.

Gone. 

Hot tears well in my eyes. 

10:21 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: I pace the length of my office in front of my window. I am an animal, trapped in a cage of my own making. The glass remains shattered on the floor. How long have I been pacing? When did this start? When did it all go so wrong?

10:28 AM, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: There is a great roaring in the distance. 

The North Tower falls. 

Dominoes. A house of cards. A structure that once held the title of tallest building in the world, reduced to nothing. 

Ash. 

Wyatt is gone. Winona is gone. That wish that I had made so long ago, that awful, awful wish of just wanting them to disappear…

Here it is, come to fruition. 

Fuck. 

[moorwood]

What buildings/places have you made characters out of

Oh god um

Old WTC (WTC 1 and 2)

One World Trade

Oculus (owned by partner)

Chrysler Building

Empire State Building (owned by partner)

World Financial Center (all main buildings)

Central Park

Washington Sq Park

American Radiator Building/Bryant Park Hotel

New York Public Library

Citigroup Center

CBGB

St Paul’s Chapel

St Patrick’s Cathedral

Flatiron Building

Grand Central Terminal

Helmsley Building

MetLife Building

550 Madison

Penn Station (old building)

Radio Row

Rockefeller Center

Singer Building

NYC Subway

Times Square

One Vanderbilt

Waldorf-Astoria

Lady Liberty

Woolworth Building

These are all for NYC, but I also have some for London. In fact, those are the ones that came first, but the story is not as well put together or active as the NYC one. That also being said, a lot of the characters/buildings listed aren’t extremely developed either. I want to work with them though!

[kb85lazy]

VOTG MC

2008

2018

BUGD

ME

F

[decaydanceredacted]

Spiral anon, sun anon, y'all have awoken something in me. I can see dallon being a soft dom and just taking care of you, praising you, and just being an all around nice guy.

HOWEVER, I saw the video of him scolding the crowd for stopping their singing during votg and oh my lord indeed! The way he controls the situation....

I just need him in general. I'll take whatever he gives me.

-lily anon

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