#click on words for definitions ;)

[serpentface]

WARDI WRITTEN LANGUAGE (BASICS).

Couya's full name (properly 'Haidamane Couya') written formally and with common handwriting conventions.

The Wardi written language derives from earlier proto-language systems consisting exclusively of logograms without direct phonetic meaning or grammatical structure. These symbols gradually became simplified and abstracted to the point of many having little intrinsic clarity, and combined to communicate abstract concepts.

The development of a full written language did not occur independently (as very few written languages do), and its phonetic elements (namely its use of syllabograms) were largely derived the 'ancient' Burri writing system, gradually synthesized with native writing conventions, and in the contemporary forms a wholly distinct system. The language's Relatively universalized form is a very recent phenomena, developing within the past two centuries with the region's conquering/unification into a single entity.

The contemporary written language is a mixture of logograms and syllabograms. It is read from right to left and arranged in horizontal columns. The most formal variant of this system contains each character within a square outline, usually separated by a small space. This outline confers little phonetic or symbolic information beyond making distinction between syllables exceptionally clear, and can be (and often is) omitted in handwriting. The separation of words is conveyed through a narrow rectangle or line in formal contexts, and again often omitted in handwriting (instead indicated instead by a wider blank space).

The pure logograms that have been retained in this writing system tend to be those of very common words or specific concepts (most logogram characters for types of livestock, key crops, water, major body parts, etc are widely recognized and in common use). There has not yet been any attempts to fully 'formalize' the language and omit potentially unnecessary logograms, and they remain frequently used as shorthand while conveying the same semantic information.

Many of the syllabogram characters are directly derived from logograms that depicted monosyllabic words. For example, the spoken word 'gan' means 'cow', and the character for the syllable 'gan' is identical to the common logogram for 'cow'.

The name Gantoche (literally "cow-eye") could be written either fully with syllabograms as:

or through logograms as:

Both ultimately communicate the same meaning, but the former clarifies pronunciation (the words gan and atoche are contracted, it's gantoche and not gan-atoche).

It is a relatively easy written language to learn, as the pure syllabogram characters indicate their own pronunciation with little ambiguity and often have consistency to their construction (ie the character for the syllable 'man' contains most of the same elements as that for the syllable 'wan'- the dot placement in particular has indication of the vowel sounds).

The inclusion of logograms in general and many of the syllabic characters being directly imported From logograms complicates matters. These characters lack visual consistency, and can be confusing to the large swath of the public who know common logograms but not the full written language itself. Ie: the word 'ungande' meaning 'liver' will be composed of logogram-derived syllable characters for 'un' (which alone means 'hand') and 'gan' (which alone means 'cow'). Someone who is only semi-literate in common logograms may be confused at the meaning, especially since these same exact same characters may be used elsewhere on their own to indicate 'hand' or 'cow'.

One major exception to this tendency is that current religious doctrine requires established logogram characters describing God to be used in place of syllabic characters. The word for god is 'Od', and has its own unique character (as do each of the Faces, the capital F 'Face', and Its deified pronoun). The syllable 'od' [oʊd] is very common in the Wardi language, and a wholly separate character is used for the phonetic sound when it is not a reference to the deity (ie 'lion' (odo [oʊdoʊ]) does not contain the same character for God in spite of its first syllable having the exact same pronunciation). Names are a bit of a gray area (ie: the name 'Odabi' is very common and carries the meaning of 'gift/blessing from God'). Religious leadership is currently experiencing a mild schism on whether the written character for God is separated due to being wholly sacrosanct (and thus inappropriate to include in the written form of a personal name) or as more of a functional delineation of the sacred and mundane.

[degenerateshinji]

CHAP 3 OUT AAA THEYRE SO CUTESY

[mono-dreamerr]

soo fucking normal about these two right now

[curapicas]

Now. What mattered in this speech was that textually it delayed Vein and thus it's an unhinged smile, or that it subtextually was directed to CXS, someone he's in fact, wanting to keep around a little longer and who he's about to ideologically betray, but the thought of him still makes LG smile?

[lynxfrost13]

LSTR-S2301 and the maintenance tunnel ARAR are best friends to me even though that Elster was only on sierpinski for a seemingly brief time, they’re bros who fuck around on the clock during work. I think Elster was probably more willing to put extra time in however she’s also very “okay you’ve given me a list of tasks I did them. They’re done and done well. That’s it, my time now.” Whereas I see Ara being more of a slacker (very valid of her) or at the very least just a bare minimum type of gal when it comes to work.

Idk I tend to imagine them fucking off in the middle of shifts to go find weird lonely corners of sierpinski to hang out in. They don’t even talk half the time but they love it.

[icewindandboringhorror]

indeed my exact process once every 8 months or so

[veifei]

wip wednesday - more xia fei being a little drunk, and vein indulging him (also this definitely reads as more suggestive than it Actually is, but i think it works)

excerpt also under the cut!

Vein places him down, Xia Fei grumbling, still grabbing onto the fabric of Vein's jacket even when his feet are firmly on the hardwood. Some nights, they've stumbled in here out of a taxi, Vein crowding him right in the corridor and pressing him to the door, the wall, nipping at his neck and drawing something desperate out of Xia Fei. Some nights Vein’s hands have been especially gentle, some nights a little careless, but his voice is always low and reassuring in Xia Fei’s ear. You've been good, or don't do that again, or I want to devour you, A’Fei.

Tonight, though, Vein is attentive but distant — business. He slips Xia Fei’s jacket off his shoulders, hanging it up by the door. Is dutiful as ever as he leads him to the spare room, sits him down on the plush double bed and tells him to undress. But Xia Fei makes no move to; in truth, he is a bit of a lightweight, but more than that he's waiting, expecting this night to go like ‘some nights’.

“Go on,” he says, looking up at Vein, standing above him. Xia Fei tilts his head to the side. “Touch me.”

Then, finally, hands slip just under his shirt, fingertips cool on his burning body, something soothing and thrilling. Each and every time Vein makes allowances for him, giving into his calls and requests, it maddens Xia Fei. Here, he is chosen, doted on. Lucky, really, but without knowing why Vein looks at him at all.

[softdrafts]

Hi had to repost this bc it wasn't appearing on the tags. Pls interact with the new post bc this one is glitching for some reason.

New post

[st4rstudent]

Hey guys just another drawing of the thr- wait what happened to them.

(bonuses + notes under cut)

i've actually been sitting on these designs since september - october/november. The color are... subjective to change. I chose Mac and Winn's colors today. I think Winn's is fine but Mac's keeps throwing me off. Here's the first drawings I did for Mac and Winn.

I like to imagine they're in their own little department. Something to do with tech like an IT department (also to kind of play off of how they're not in the game but run a lot of important events outside of it). So they're not any cog type in specific (like boss, board, law, etc..etc).

Mac's a Macintosh 128k and Winn is just a computer mouse (the tail is supposed to be a little mouse pointer and those are wires in the back. Technically speaking, wires for mice are in the front by the scroll but we can get inaccurate here). Mac's screen can change colors and display options. Together they make the Matrix Team

Here's some Brian's that I did during class last semester. He was originally a mouse, but I found trying to design him was much more annoying than I thought. Then one day during class I had a beam of light hit into my head and made him a big. He's not specific or anything, I tried to do just a stereotypical bug (like how all dogs/cats in game are the same type). He has a triangular head to match his faceplate though :-] you could maybe imagine an ant if you'd like. I figure ants work like cogs in a machine.

The desk jockeys are there too! I haven't really drawn them, but they remain somewhat the same. Instead of being made by toons to look like cogs, they're now made by cogs to look like toons. They also can't teleport so it takes Brian 3x longer to get places, but do they act as multitoons kind of.

This is the only drawing I really have to show my design basis. And YES they are still taller than him because its funny. Ok I think that's all

[makerofmadness]

Fudging while I'm Being Alive Again might as well show my findings uh.

Shadow Milk is based on goddamn Jungian Psychology thank you Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion hyperfixation for teaching me what that is so I could connect it to a kid's game I am autistic about hell yeah it's all coming together /ref 😎

he is PV's shadow

That's why he's a trickster :3

More specifically, he's THIS trickster:

Interestingly, his pre-beast self, while we only have the silhouette to go off of, appears to have an entirely different mythological basis if I am correct.

specifically he bears a lot of visual resemblance to the Celestial Scribe, Metatron, from Islam and Judaism. Specifically to Islamic depictions.

It's mainly the hat and spear I'm looking at. Plus the "celestial scribe" thing would make sense for the holder of the power of knowledge.

[blood-mocha-latte]

stormy - a luztoye drabble

for an ask from @malarkgirlypop || request an edit/drabble || i loved loved loved writing this, thank you for the ask <3 <3

The apartment they've found is all brick, sturdy and warm, but George can still feel the shaking of the thunder under his feet.

He sighs down at the metal tin that holds rapidly cooling water and dissipating bubbles. The sad, soggy lump of washcloths in his fist serves as a makeshift mop, because for some reason, they don't actually have one. 

They were in the middle of painting the walls of the kitchen blue – a (hopefully) better colour change from the dark orange it was when George, of course, dropped a good half quarter of blue all over the tile floor.

The thunder rumbles outside again. George groans, like it's a queue, and bunches his ‘mop��� together better before dunking it into the pail.

Leaning his knees on a rolled up towel, avoiding the harsh tile of the kitchen floor, he scrubs rather absently for a while.

He likes menial tasks, like this. Turning his brain off, George feels, is something that is both long and far between as well as just. Absent.

When he thinks — always, always thinking, and talking even more — it’s almost always about the now. About needing to clean the floor, about when they’ll need to water the plant on top of the fireplace again, about how they need a new bedspread, because George got blood all over their old one when he accidentally sliced his palm open with a razor.

(A mishap, with shaving. Joe had dropped something in their bedroom, and George had jolted so badly he’d needed fourteen stitches.)

Sometimes, though, he thinks of everyday and it blends into what used to be everyday; disjointed thoughts that he’ll need to call Lip down in West Virginia and ask about confirmation for blasting a house in Hagenau, that he’ll need to get new running shoes because Currahee tends to get muddier with the rain, this time of year.

This time, he thinks about Joe. Who, admittedly, consumes the majority of his thoughts, now. 

He thinks of a joke, and thinks about telling it to Joe, and realises he’s already told it to him, because he’s the only one George tells anything, anymore. He wonders vaguely about something that existed when he was a kid, and has to go and find Joe to ask him if he remembers that thing too, just to listen to him talk. He walks by a shop window with all sorts of jewellery in it, and wonders what Joe would do if he brought home rings.

As he scrubs at the tile, blue paint chipping off and into the cloths and George’s hands, he wonders if Joe’d like it if he could find Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe. Maybe they could watch it. Maybe they’d watch it for two seconds and get bored. Maybe, if George talked through it enough, he could get Joe to shut him up with his mouth, anchor a hand in his hair—

“George.” Joe says from the other side of the room, voice almost frustrated. George looks up from the mess on the floor; made no better by his scrubbing, and drops the ‘mop’ back into the soapy tin.

“Something wrong?” He asks, wiping his hands awkwardly on the fabric of his pants as he makes his way over to where Joe sits on the couch, holding the paper against his good leg, pen in his left hand.

“No.” Joe says, too quickly, almost sharply. He huffs, once, through his nose, and shoves the paper up roughly when George comes to stand over the couch, bracing the palms of his hands against the back of it. “Just. I can't— fuck.” 

Joe gets like this, sometimes. Usually when it’s cold and it’s been a while since he last ate. Frustrated, sharp. More impatient than usual, maybe a bit clumsier.

George kneels behind the couch, grimacing slightly at the pop of his knees, and fights down the cushioning of the sofa to rest his chin on Joe's shoulder, skimming through the messy handwriting that Joe held up.

It's been easy enough to get settled in. The apartment is a decent size, both bedrooms are nice. George seems ecksausted

exosted

exausted

exaustid

“I don't know why the fuck I couldn't just say tired.” Joe says, dropping the paper back into his lap when George pulls back and noses absently against the shell of his ear to show he was done reading. His voice is strained, like he’s trying to make a joke.

“Well, you've got a big vernacular. Might as well use it.” George says lightly, using Joe’s good shoulder to push himself back up, grunting. “Christ, call an ambulance. Who let an old man get down on the floor?”

“You're only twenty-seven, George.” Joe says absently as George rounded the side of the sofa. “And I don't have a big fucking vernacular. Can't spell for shit. It's not like I use fancy goddamn words all the time.”

“You use fancy words all the time.” George retorts, plopping down onto the couch and slipping his hands under his legs. Joe’s eyes, dark against his skin and framed by even darker lashes, glare down at them. “You just said vernacular.”

“Because you just said vernacular.” Joe says darkly, posture slouched. “I can't even spell vernacular.”

“Well, neither can I.” George says amiably. “There's probably a ‘j’ in there, somewhere.” 

Joe frowns down at the paper. “Can you even read the damn writing?” He asks, flipping the pencil clumsily between his fingers. George leans further into him, jostling his ribs with his elbow. Outside, the rumbling thunder seems to make the glass in the panes of their windows vibrate.

“Well, sure.” He says. “Could tell that you kept misspelling exhausted, couldn’t I?” Joe doesn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s not legible.” He murmurs. George sighs, and gently pulls the paper out of Joe’s grip before he crumples it into a ball. 

“Well, it’s not easy on the eyes.” He says lightly. He tries not to lie, but he doesn’t like being any sort of unkind. “But you are, so it makes up for it.”

“George.” Joe says, same way he always does. Like the beginning of a prayer, or a story. George just shrugs. He lets his head drop to Joe’s bare shoulder, fingers smoothing across his wifebeater.

“‘S fine, Joe.” He says. He’s leaning against Joe’s bad shoulder, and he can feel the lines of scarring and tissue against his temple and cheek like streaks of lightning. He taps his index finger against the deepest scar; one that runs from the crux of Joe’s neck and shoulder and wraps around his bicep to halfway down his forearm. “I can read it fine.”

Joe’s quiet. He shifts against George, and dry lips press to his forehead. 

“I can’t write so good, anymore.” He says. George knows. George was there when Joe couldn’t even use his right arm without it hurting, could barely keep a grasp on a tennis ball. George also knows that Joe tends to get inside his own head, tends to think that things are worse than they actually are, that every event is the start of a chain of bad ones.

That’s alright, though. That’s what he’s got George for, whether he likes it or not.

“Writing doesn’t matter.” George says. “I heard somewhere that Mark Twain couldn’t hold a pencil. He just said stuff and had other people write it down.” Joe snorts.

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters. George spreads his fingers against Joe’s forearm, pressing his palm to the scar. 

“Yeah.” He agrees easily. “Who gives a fuck, though.” Joe huffs. The thunder rumbles, as if in agreement, and they both turn their heads towards the window.

“Still stormy outside, I’d guess.” Joe says. George hums, turns his cheek to press a kiss to Joe’s shoulder. Fuck the kitchen tiles. They can be blue. It will probably come into fashion at some point, anyways.

“Yeah.” He says. “Who gives a fuck, though.”

[victims-of-elsewhere]

MECHANICLOWNIC : A gender relating to machines and clowns , or being a mechanical clown!

Coined by user botbinary on tumblr. Reated pronouns: Clown/Clownself , Mechanic/Mechanicself, Gear/Gearself , etc . Related : Technogenders here , Clown..and other related genders here (?)

[pepperpixel]

which fandom do you think you were most involved in

Hmmmmm, this is a tough question!!! But also, an interesting one lol. I’d say, in terms of actually creating and uploading art it’d be either Undertale or SCP! Most likely it’s SCP but I remember being RLLY into Undertale back when it first came out and drawing a bunch of stuff for it

But, in terms of the fandom I was MOST personally involved and invested and ride or die on for the longest amount of my life, regardless of amount of fanart I’ve drawn (cuz robots r hard to draw…) it would without question be transformers lol, I’ve been obsessed with that shit since like 5th grade… I used to read thru tfwiki pages just for fun as a child and to see the funny captions on photos or the interesting trivia. I had one of crashboombangers old brainstorm voice clips as my alarm clock back then and it was DEVASTATINGLY LOUD, I shared my room w someone else back then and had that as my alarm and little me, had no sense of common decency towards someone else’s sleep cuz that shit was like a bomb went off at 5:30. It was terribly loud ghgh-

I was, And still am kinda obsessed with sharing and showing transformers to ppl cuz I think it’s rlly good!!! (Generally I show Tfp to ppl first cuz it’s a very cool well made entertaining show that I feel is a good entry point. But like. I enjoy a lot of the different versions, and showing them to ppl!) And I want more ppl! To care about and be obsessed w these hot sexy awesome giant robots!!! They’ve literally informed so much of my interests ghgh- and actually, I went back and checked my deviantart. And I don’t have a lot of my old transformers art on this blog. Cuz I had an old one I accidentally deleted before this one. But I’ve actually drawn MORE transformers art than I have scp art… apparently. I mean they might be evened out considering I haven’t rlly made many transformers videos like I have for scp. But still! Yeah.. transformers was and still is my favorite shit ever. I don’t draw a lot of stuff for it but it is always in my heart.

[unopenablebox]

oh my god i'm so mad i spent a week troubleshooting this imaging that wasn't working because the microscope company says you have to use their proprietary dyes, called "red" and "orange". and i just could not see "orange" on my scope no matter what i did so there was no point taking samples over to the fancy scope and making someone else help me set it up bc i wouldn't get any good images anyway. this persisted even after i ordered new dye and swapped which targets i was dying with it which makes absolutely no sense

i've just figured it out

in life sciences microscopy "orange" and "red" have standardized meanings for which filter/laser stimulation goes with them. orange is in the 530-550nm range. red is in the 590s. above about 600 is "far red". every single company in existence agrees on this

except this company. their "orange" is 590. their "red" is 650. orange has not been working because i have been looking in the "orange" channel for the signal, when i should have been looking in the "red" channel, because their orange dye is red. and their red dye is far red. you know. obviously

[fluffypotatey]

WIP WORD GAME

RULES: You will be given a word. Then you will share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word

i received WOMEN from the ever lovely @bellamyblakru <333

W - Whatever the cost, they had told each other while staying late in the lab, doing test after test. Now though, something was different.

O - Once every few months the prince would return here and of those every few months, Antinous would find him.

M - Might have been Javier’s fault or not, he could never differentiate between bets and fights when he drank.

E - Even though you and Lucy will not be in the same schools anymore?

N - Not that it truly matters, of course, but I am a stickler for details.

tagging: @night-faye @botanicallyinclinednerd @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @thrandilf @sourdough-morbread @rowdyknives @0hheytherebigbadwolf and anyone who feel inclined <333

the word i've chosen for y'all is.....lilacs

[gayjscottfield]

I headcannon that Divina wrote a song on her guitar about how much she appreciates Yoko as a friend and only realises halfway through playing it that perhaps it’s not just as a friend.