#FiftyThree

[dominique-vigreux]

[stray--thoughts]

Fifty-Three

[punkedsolar]

Kelpie

Ever done something and had no idea how you did it and moreover find you could never replicate it again?

This is a digital Kelpie painting I did in Paper by FiftyThree when it was still my thing. I never worked out how to emulate this look and feel ever again.

This might be the first picture of the character Angel. Angel is a very dubious Kelpie character who is a shapeshifter on a game I'm on. He is usually capable of achieving beautiful forms by shape shifting, but his true shape, and his mind tend to be a bit slimy.

Character sheet inspired by @destinationtoast!

Angel the Kelpie (and other things)

Stats

Intense: 😤😤😤😤🫥 Complex: 😤🫥🫥🫥🫥 Fruity:😤😤😤😤🫥 Skrunkly: 🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥

Sub Class

Angst-lord 🚫 Enemy of the State 👌 Flavour Container: 👌🚫 Himbo 👌 Soft and Sweet 🚫 Braincell Haver 🚫 This Is a Kink 👌 Just Like You FR 🚫 Chew Toy 👌 Friend Shaped 🚫 Aspirational Char 🚫 Little Meow Meow👌🚫

Bits

Tragic Backstory? 👌🚫 Orphan? 🚫 Frequently Violent? 👌 Divorced? 🚫 Has enemies? 👌 Has friends? 👌 Sidekicks? 🚫 Would pet strays? 🚫 Insomniac? 🚫 Murder? 👌

just some guy -☠️-------- the protagonist of life head empty ☠️--------- too many thoughts stupid as shit ---☠️------- scary-smart awful company --☠️------- ray of sunshine hated by all ---☠️------ beloved by all trauma x1000 ------☠️--- untouched by history sadistic for fun -☠️-------- helps others for fun 1,000 weapons -----☠️---- 1,000 tools enemy of god -☠️-------- at peace with life break the rules --------☠️- change the rules

Angel is not exactly an evil person, but he is not a very good person. His character arc might involve getting to learn what being a human is, but in his defence, he started life as a piece of pond scum that got enchanted into being a horse by the number of people who drowned in the pond as accidental 'sacrifices'.

When he appears as a young man, he is generally blonde, hot, and mean as hell. Angel does not do angst despite having a pretty bleak background - as long as he lives to annoy a child or steal money out of a tip jar, Angel is happy. Technically, he isn't exactly 'gendered' but as a member of the Fae, he has very little comprehension of human sexuality in the first place.

[final-girl96]

Killer Geek Masterlist

Ao3

Wattpad (23+ stories here)

Description/Trigger Warnings (please read)

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[storelsdailychallenge]

6/9/24

day onehundred-and-fiftythree: doodle

didnt have time today

[topaz-gremlin]

Cave In

The midnight sun filtered in through the frost covered panes of the windows. It cut through the sheets of gauzy fabric hung at regular intervals in the circular room at the top of the tower. No wind or draft blew through the room, but the drapes swayed ever so slightly, set to motion by the energy emanating from the figure at the center of the room. A chalk diagram webbed out from underneath the being, symbols and shapes known only to them carpeting the floor. At irregular intervals in the chaos sat all manner of candles, tall and short, new and old, lit and snuffed. Their flames flickered in ways that were at odds with the movement of the curtains. No smoke filled the room and, despite the chill, no breath clouded from the figure. The only mark of life from them being the steady rise and fall of their chest.

Grey eyes shot open as a rumble began to echo from outside the tower. In a second the figure sprung to her feet, tearing through the curtains and towards the door. Bounding down the stairs, she ripped a cloak off of a hook on the wall, snatched a pair of boots from a landing, and pulled a sword from where it lay against an arrow slit. Barely stopping to shove her feet into the boots, she barrelled out of the door and onto the fortress walls. 

With a booming voice that carried further than it should have over the icy tundra, she shouted, “Cave in in the northern sector! Pull the overseers!” 

Slinging her swordbelt over her shoulder, the sorcerer rushed down into the courtyard. A hand passed her the reins as she hurdled towards her mount. Throwing herself into the saddle, the bones of her steed biting into her legs, she commanded the creature forwards at a breakneck speed. Ice kicked up behind them as they raced towards the mines. Pushing the beast faster than she had in a long time, the sorcerer swore under her breath as more and more of her constructs fell away from her reach. 

The area of the tundra where the snow turned brown from the earth pulled from deep below grew larger all too slowly. The rumbling that was heard outside her tower grew louder and the ground began to shake underneath her steed. Quicker than was natural, but slower than desired, she arrived at the entrance to the mines. Her overseers huddled around a series of sleds, bundled against the biting wind. Thick garments of caribou hide and seal skin covered them head to toe. Their faces were framed by the large fur hoods and their ivory sun goggles protected them from the midnight sun. 

Aiming for the head foreman, the sorcerer reined in her beast in front of the group. Not bothering to wait for them to address her, she barked out, “Is everyone out?”

“Yes, lord, this is everyone. Squad Baf and Cet had just taken off for a drop off.” She jumped from her mount lithely, heading for the main entrance to the northern sector. The rumbling in the ground had ceased, along with the destruction of her miners, but she knew better than to enter the tunnel proper. 

“Good, good,” she muttered more to herself than to the foreman. “Not too many lost then. But it does appear that the cave-in separated group Alb-Cet. They are in tunnels one-seventeen though fiftythree. The junction at one hundred collapsed. Is it worth it to reopen? How profitable were those tunnels?”

“We were pulling decent iron from the latter sections,” Foreman Alberich answered. “Untapped ground there. Dangerous though, that was the third cave in this month.”

She nodded, not needing him to tell her of the dangers. This stretch of mine had lost her nearly two hundred constructs. They weren’t at risk of depleting the materials, but the strain of creating new ones was beginning to drain her. 

“If those idiots to the south would stop throwing away good iron in this war, maybe we wouldn’t have to dig in such dangerous areas,” a minor overseer grumbled from the background. 

“That war is keeping you lot fed,” the sorcerer quipped. Turning back to Alberich, she commanded, “We reopen the tunnels. I’ve already sent out the order. The miners will likely have it cleared and shored up in a few days time.”

Before she could listen to him answer her she felt the loss of a singular miner. Somewhere deep underground, deeper than their tunnels stretched, the crunch of bones severed her connection to the construct. Head cocked to the side, listening, feeling, she reached towards the last point of contact. Finding the nearest miner, she explored the area around it, only to feel that one be pulled down and destroyed as well. After a third, then a fourth suffered the same fate to confirm her findings, she returned to herself. 

Alberich had stopped talking when he realized his lord was no longer present. Once her senses flickered back online, he asked, “What is it, Lord Venatrix?” 

“They cracked into a cave. A deep one.” Turning back to her saddle, she pulled a map out of the bags. Unraveling the surveyor’s map, she roughly searched for where the tunnels that had collapsed were. Nothing there indicated a cave of the size she was feeling. 

Continuing, she said, “If it caused the quake, I don’t want anything living going near it. Leave the miners to it for now. Once they connect with the main junction I’ll send in atmosphere testers to be safe. Who knows, maybe there’s something good down there.”

“Probably just more diamonds and gold, knowing our luck!” The foreman joked. Venatrix just scoffed at him before rolling her map back into the saddle bags. The creak in her hands had her searching for the gloves she always kept in the side pouch. Shoving her bluing fingers into the moleskin gloves, she pulled herself back into the saddle. 

“I’m placing this mine on a skeleton crew until the cave in is cleared. No living allowed in.” Silent orders went out to the constructs that still toiled in the uncollapsed tunnels. “I’ve pulled the miners from squads Baf and Cet to head for the sister mines for now. Consider this a vacation for you all. Rest up and be prepared for when we reopen. Now, I need to get out of this wind before my toes fall off.”

“Should we send a guard to accompany them? Don’t want to lose more bones to those creatures.” Alberich asked as the miners began to shuffle out of the tunnels. The split into two groups, trudging as if pulled by strings towards the other mines. 

“They don’t attack when the sun is out, not as often at least. It’s a risk I’ll take, given we’re already behind on production for the month,” Venatrix answered. The snow crunched under her beast’s paws as she turned it around. 

“If the king cares so much about it, he should send some fucking guards,” another overseer grumbled. 

“The last group he sent lasted three weeks before the cold and bones sent them running to their mother’s skirts. And honestly they were more of a hindrance than anything else. When the night falls later in the year, I’ll fight that battle again.” She was already moving towards the fortress while she spoke, the ice crystals forming in her extremities driving her towards the warmth of the fires. 

Pulling her cloak tight, she cursed her stupidity for rushing out without her gear. Centuries past, when she was more fragile, she would have never taken that risk. Now, her unaged body showed the signs of wear and tear from generations worth of mistakes like that. These newly darkened fingertips would be a new addition to the collection, but they would fade shortly enough. 

Arriving swiftly at the fortress, she passed the beast off to one of the hands in the stables, remembering to shove her gloves back into the saddlebags. A dogsled had followed her into the courtyard. Alberich gave her a wave before heading towards his quarters in the keep. Doing the same, Venatrix headed for the closest door to her own chambers. Upon entry, a gust of warm air helped to return some life to her shivering body. 

Aiming for the sanctuary of the warm couch in her living chambers, she shook a small pile of snow out of her boots. Wet footprints appeared on the stone behind her as she walked and her socks squelched uncomfortably. Flopping onto the couch and pulling the soggy wool from her feet, she gazed into the fire. The veiled figure to the hearth’s left cleared its throat, or what was left of it. 

“My lord, you must be more careful with your form,” Their ancient lungs rasped as they chastised her. Her childhood tutor, now the specter that haunted her rooms that she couldn’t find the heart to remove, stood like a statue next to the fire. 

“I know, Yorich. It was an emergency,” the sorcerer rebutted. 

“As it was the last seventeen times.” If they were human, Yorich would have been sarcastic. Instead their statement was nothing but dry fact. Continuing, they said, “Need I remind you what happened with the black powder?”

At the mere mention, the swath of tight skin on her side began to itch. Scratching it softly, she retorted, “No, the scar reminds me well enough.” 

“Your magic is strong enough you needn’t throw yourself into the earth to solve these problems.” They had yet to move. If someone were to watch, they’d think she was speaking to a statue. She might as well have been, with how stone cold they typically were.  It meant that arguing with Yorich was next to impossible. And yet she still tried. 

“And do I need to remind you about old habits dying hard?” She threw her wet sock at her tutor, who caught it in a lightning fast reaction.

Folding the sock and placing it on the mantel, they pushed, “When will you ask his majesty for more assistance?”

“Drop it, Yorich,” she growled, “I have little interest in dealing with the princeling playing as king. I give him what he needs, nothing more.”

“And he does not return the favor. It is time you demand that. The sisters speak on it often.” Rolling her eyes dramatically, Venatrix flopped sideways onto the couch. Yorich spoke of her other tutors, the ones who trained her the magic she’d mastered centuries past. The old crones still seemed convinced they owned some part of her for those teachings. 

“I don’t give a shit what those bitches think,” she forced out.

“Language, my lord.” A snort bit her nose at that. “Remember, you are lord of more than this fortress. If the sisters sense weakness, they may convene to remove your title as Prefect.”

“And bowing to the crown isn't weakness?” She grumbled, unhappy to be rehashing a conversation they had been having for months now.

“There is strength in asking for help.” 

Shaking her head, she conceded, “I’ll think on it. Right now I need to warm up.”

“There is something else,” Yorich creaked forwards, extending a bony hand. A familiar envelope sealed with gold wax was offered to her. “The changeling sent a letter.”

Venatrix broke the seal swiftly, eager to read her friend’s latest update. The code known only to them unraveled swiftly in her mind. The letter contained all the usual updates, but finished with something very out of the ordinary. A sinister smile crept across her face as she reread the line. Turning back to Yorich, she declared, “I think I will be speaking with the king after all. As it turns out, he owes me for more than just the iron. He’s stolen my name.”

[hcmbound]

FIFTY-THREE | AXON

Orion grinned at his boyfriend, crawling up the bed to meet him face to face. “Howdy.” He leaned in to give him a kiss. While it only had been a short time since the pair started to date “officially”, nothing had changed between them except one thing. It was the first time that when someone started kissing the other, no one stopped anything from happening. Waking up next to Axel had been a dream come true. Sure, it happened plenty of times before, but this time he was naked. “So much for going home last night, Winter. What was your excuse again? Hm?” Orion smirked, flopping next to him, lying on his side so he could continue to look at the masterpiece in front of him.

[thedailybisquit]

Dustin, from Bryan, Texas, is the owner of @thehudsonbcs barber shop and this stunning 1953 Chevy Belair...what a fabulous vehicle to cruise and clear the head after work! 📸🛠️ @foremanfab #radrods_me_crazy #radrod #retrostyle #restomod #whybuynew #whitewalls #wirewheels #texas🇨🇱 #twodoor #oldcar #oldchevy #oldschoolcars #airedout #airride #driveyourshit #familycar #gm #fiftythree #garagebuilt #lowered #layingframe #chromegrill #classiccars #chevy #chromebumpers #customclassic #car #classicchevy #bagged #barberlifestyle https://www.instagram.com/p/CN7qbmGDnqW/?igshid=1dhkoy7yrl4ic

[leslieloba]

Harpy skull.

[aprost]

[agustinceres]

Antonia Rivero

[dominique-vigreux]

#illustrator #illustration #drawing #digitalart #digitaldrawing #digitalart #artiste #instagood #sketch #dessin #illustration #art #ipadartist #ipadartists #madewithpaper #madewithpaper53 #paper53 #fiftythree #draw #instaart #artist #lesstalkmoreillustration #wetransfer #womenartists https://www.instagram.com/p/CkaEfb6oo7R/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sylvialynch]

O - Otter: Illuminated alphabet

[roastedbyemi]

[final-girl96]

Broken World Masterlist

Wattpad (23+ stories here)

Ao3

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[montesinos1330]

🌷 Durgaliebers🧘‍♀️ Sketch By Alfie Montesinos #paper53 #wetransfer #fiftythree #ipadart #sketch (en Puebla City) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0XXXNXBWUP/?igshid=w69yj6gr9ckl