#long complicated post

[monstermonger]

bit of a silly question here but have you ever gotten afraid to draw in a journal like the one you recently shared? like the idea of using the pages "incorrectly" or "wasting" them (or running out right before you get inspiration that might have been "better" than what you'd jotted down)? your art is INCREDIBLE and I know the best way to improve is to do it, all the time, but I struggle getting started for those sorts of fears, and I want to know if you have tips for overcoming that ^^

I don't think it's a silly question, in fact I think it's one of the Ultimate Art Questions haha

Yes I 100% struggled with that in the past; i'm happy to try my best, sharing some personal tips in journaling, specifically! :D

TECHNICAL SIDE:

>> Small simple sketchbook = less intimidating to fill the pages. (Also, easy to carry around)

5x7in Moleskin, and a pilot pen

>> My journal ISN'T a place to prove that I can make pretty pictures. I have separate sketchbooks for that. I use journals to jot down ideas and notes of things I like. (yes i shared a few pages that happened to look nice, but there were 100+ other pages after all d: )

Spontaneous observation is messy and imprecise. But not in a bad way.

Rather than seeing the messiness as "bad/unworthy imperfection," try to see it as a miraculous insight to how you, a unique human being with your unique thoughts and art experience, sees the things you like

My journal process (in general): doodle a pretty cake I ate, a funny bird I saw, some weird dialogue I overheard, stickers, stamps, a character in a book that I want to draw as a dragon,......... scatter them all over the page, then look at the random blocks of empty paper remaining. Fill those up next with another lil quote, or words about the week, or some pretty vines/flowers :) etc. It's like making a collage.

Draw what you actually LIKE + what actually sounds FUN to draw. u can always take photos/save pics of other stuff if it's overwhelming.

>> Find your comfort tools. I love ink. how it looks, feels, etc; I hardly ever use pencil. A sketch that I need to ink over is usually too much work for my journal. I'm just trying to get down ideas before I get bored or get inspired by another thing LOL

[But yeah: pencils can be the perfect tool for someone else. Regular pencils, colored pencils, watercolor pencils... play around with a bunch of basic tools to find your fav.]

EMOTIONAL SIDE:

I highly recommend Lynda Barry's book "Making Comics." She has some lovely, and deeply empathetic things to say about overcoming fear of making "bad" art.

My journal scribblings/therapeutic studies --- someone with 10x the skill could do it better, sure, but they probs wouldn't focus on the same details, or be interested in the same monsters, or be thinking the same thoughts as me.

They won't have the same things to say about their day, won't see the same spindly tree growing from a crumbling brick wall on their walk. etc!

Also! imo this POV isn't an excuse to feel like I don't need to improve my technical skill, but it keeps me happy, fulfilled, and motivated as I'm on that road of improvement. AND it makes me appreciate others' incredible art as their own reflection of the things they love/their own experiences, rather than view it competitively/jealously.

"Drawing is so much more than Good or Bad. It is a language from another part of you." - Lynda Barry

[softkostyk]

no because the thing about rupert is that he has been making terrible choices for years. he’s lost his passion, he’s lost his family, he fills his life with səx to get by, to feel something good. and then taggie shows up and she’s just so kind and sweet and beautiful and the realest thing rupert’s ever laid his eyes on. angel, he calls her, because that’s what she is to him. so of course he wants her. but that’s not all, because for the first time in forever, rupert has a reason, a push to want to be better. have you noticed how every time taggie is upset about something that happened or something he did, he immediately does everything he can to make up for it? It’s because before her, he didn’t care—or didn’t want to care—about hurting people or doing the wrong thing. but taggie makes him want to be good. for her. for himself. he is fully aware of his feelings for this young woman he cannot keep his eyes off, and when he seeks out cameron again it’s purely because he thinks he can never have taggie…but try as he might, he’s not able to move on. and taggie??? her mother considers her an idiot, her father considers her a little girl, she’s trying to find out what her place is, where she fits in, and rupert is the only person in her life that is completely encouraging and who believes in her potential (see how he compliments both her cooking and says she’s good with the campaign). he’s the only person who sees she’s twisting herself every which way to make everyone happy, and he’s the first to tell her she doesn’t have to be perfect all the time. and she’s fascinated, obviously, but it’s more than that. It’s rupert being silly to make her laugh, it’s her face falling when she realizes he has yet again been with another woman, it’s her anger when she finds out declan told rupert not to touch her. but they gravitate towards each other, because they’ve come into each other lives at exactly the right time. gosh season 2 cannot come fast enough

[professional-rat-eater]

I just saw a really stupid take from a Star Wars fan (I know, absolutely unheard of! (heavy sarcasm)) so here is a reminder:

People who ship clones with Jedi are more than aware of the power dynamic. That’s a huge part of what makes them interesting. If we were to to ship Cody with basically anyone else other than Obi Wan, it probably wouldn’t work as well because Obi Wan is precisely the last person who would ever want to pressure him or cross his boundaries.

The Jedi were totally screwed over and backed into a war that goes against so much of what they stand for and on top of that, now they have an entire army of brand new humans to lead. All of those brand new humans are totally unique and just experiencing the world for the first time, even though they’re all mature adults too. It’s a totally screwed up situation which puts so much added pressure onto the Order, so we throw romantic feelings on top of that and we’re not supposed to find that absurdly compelling?

Obi Wan is literally defined by his empathy and his kindness. The reason shipping him with Cody works so well is because there is no one who represents what the Jedi are meant to be better than him. Goodness is at the core of his character. There would never be a day that he didn’t value Cody’s wellbeing over his own feelings. Not to mention that they’re both so dedicated to their beliefs and responsibilities that a relationship is never even realistically an option while the war is going on.

Codywan is about the yearning. It’s about them both knowing they have feelings for each other and not being able to do anything about it because they are fighting for something much bigger than themselves. It’s about the infamous “after the war” conversation that they never got to have. It’s about them meeting again on Tatooine years later, finally on equal footing and completely alone in the galaxy, bonded together by their grief.

That’s why people love Codywan. The suggestion of anything otherwise is just an insult to the hard work all the artists and writers have put into making some of the most incredible fanfiction and fanart and fanon lore I’ve ever seen in any fandom ever.

P.S.— the portrayal of something in a piece of media doesn’t equal the condoning or promoting of that sort of behaviour. I thought we’d long since established that. Let’s use our brains here.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

am I getting too convoluted if I said Johnny dies Dallas lives n Pony loses his hearing as a result of the way Dallas hits him (to put out the fire) when he pulls him out of the church au??

[godslush]

For fear of jamming up the tag over and over again (sorry, the brainworms are STRONG with this game), I'm just gonna ramble a bit under cut about thoughts I have regarding Jeanne.

A lot of people love her. She's a woobie. Her struggle is easy to empathize with, and anyone with half a heart generally wants to help her.

But what if that's not who she really is?

While a lot of transformations are pretty random, many of the major participants share a common theme of transforming into something related to their mental state or where their attention was at the time of transforming. Edwin and his telescopes. Lyle and his camera. Even Baby Teeth was probably looking outside with no thoughts in her little baby brain aside from how much her teeth hurt as they were coming in.

So wtf is up with Jeanne?

We get a small idea of what kind of person she was from the things you grab in her apartment; she was a biker. Possibly a pretty rough one, given the jacket is studded.

It's... very possible that she's actually a very angry individual who hated most other people and saw them as nuisances. However, due to social constructs, she was forced to keep it in... to mask her disdain for people under a facade of amiability. After all, it's easier to get along with people in a close-knit apartment complex if you're not the asshole stirring up trouble.

Once she starts transforming, she doesn't want to leave her apartment, and therefore needs help, so she'd be putting her all into masking and coming across as a nice person.

Meanwhile, her body is rejecting the kindness and breaking out, doing what she really wants to do in her mind, which is kill everyone (the eating part is likely just because monster)... but her 'mask' persona is also its own 'head' and becomes a separate entity. But it has no control over the others until you sever them.

And since it's easier to empathize with the 'nice one' - with the 'mask' - most people are going to assume the nice head is the 'real Jeanne' and help that one, even though the evidence is that the violent, 'evil' ones have the majority.

The nice Jeanne we love might just be a lie...

But it's okay, because killing off the 'bad' parts of her is better for everyone else involved.

Right?

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[funny-friends]

lex xenoblade dump (including her white whale crew list profile for anyone who doesnt know her yet <3 template from here!!). i think she is very funny

[moonofmercury]

Moze is initially apprehensive about your and Jiaoqiu's relationship. Not because you're not good for him. You are. You make him smile, you make him laugh, you bring him fresh groceries when he has a hard time leaving the house, you make sure he doesn't just rot in bed all day (although you happily join him for this too). But as Moze comes to acknowledge his past, as he understands more about what it means to have people to care about and who truly care about you, he realizes how hard it is to live without people who mean so much. And if something happens to one of you, will the other survive?

It leaves Moze feeling confused. Is this jealousy? That losing one of you might mean losing you both, without care for what happens to the rest of them.

On some level, you all live dangerous lives, even if Jiaoqiu doesn't work for anyone but Feixiao anymore and diviners are fairly well guarded when they are near the battlefield. Moze knows it won't happen yet, that you are not yet so tied together, but he worries for Jiaoqiu and his fragile heart.

Moze remains his reticent self when Jiaoqiu talks about you, or when you talk about Jiaoqiu. You are undeniably good for him, and Moze can, with fond begrudging, admit Jiaoqiu is good for you too. And slowly, Moze's apprehension transforms into a more worn, tired worry touched with curiosity.

For so many years, stronger feelings have felt burned out of him. With no one to respond to his cries, they had died before they could lay half-formed in his chest. And although it is a gentle thing, the love between you and Jiaoqiu is strong enough to make Moze unsure. All he can do is keep you alive when he can. For Jiaoqiu's sake. He's not willing to let a thing like love keep you all from sharing the life you have been given.

[serpentface]

Faiza performing the Kagnoma Odo (pretty literally 'lion dance'), a weapons dance and one of the more important ritual duties of Odonii priestesses. A relatively new addition to this traditional dance involves the musket as the primary weapon, which is fired mid-twirl into the ground at the climax of the dance. Faiza is experiencing an 'oh fuck' moment because her shot is more than ideally diagonal, but she’s being so cool with it.

This is a wholly ceremonial performance at the onset of the pilgrimage, performed in full regalia and lion skin (of the small, semi-domesticated strain) but no armor. It’s also distinctly a display of political allegiance between the powerful and beloved Odonii priesthood (and its loyal military) with the increasingly reviled and destabilized imperial family, with Faiza prominently wearing a bracelet of the royal serpent, which was gifted (along with the musket) by the usoma Stavis Amanti himself (Usoma is the Wardi word for king, which has been retained in the context of emperors).

The Kagnoma Odo is the ultimate demonstration of the Odonii as an embodiment of the Lion Face of God and living vessel of military might and sovereignty, demonstrating her fitness and proficiency with weapons and as a spiritual unifier for soldiers. It is accompanied by drumming and occurs in stages, running through the three keymost weapons used in war- the spear, the sword, and the musket. The musket is of the most significance, given the weapon has developed a particular esteem as the ultimate embodiment of might and superiority. Assistants (almost always other priestesses, occasionally high ranking soldiers) load and prime the musket to be fired at the climax of the dance, where it is shot into the ground as the priestess leaps out of range of the shot. The firing signals the end of the dance and the rite itself.

While not the utmost exemplar of trigger discipline, only fully inducted and senior (and therefore very thoroughly trained) Odonii are permitted to perform the dance, and injuries during actual performances are quite rare (though are known to occur during training, more than a few Odonii have burns and wounds on their feet).

The most important renditions of this dance are performed upon declarations of war and before battles (in this case, generally done in full armor along with the lion pelt). It is also done during some trainings (while a dance, it is carefully choreographed to include naturalistic maneuvers of the weapons involved and helps soldiers limber up and learn to move their weapons). It is regarded as an impressive and motivating sight and a morale booster, and, seen at a distance, potentially intimidating to enemies.

A special variant of this dance is performed as means of fully incarnating the Odomache, which is done in full nudity with the body covered in the blood of the freshly sacrificed lion and cloaked in its raw pelt (the lion has become the corpse of Odomache in the moment of death, as part of its recreation of God's sacrifice). Her public, full nude appearance once (and only once) in this act is what allows the Lion Face of God to incarnate within her. Those in attendance see the spiritually vulnerable, naked human body obscured with the sanctified and deified blood and cloaked in the sanctified and deified skin. It is a merger of the contradictions of mortality and divinity, the boundaries between the two indistinct in flickering firelight and the flash of musketfire. She is witnessed by her people, dangling in between humanity and divinity and leading them in dance, and and is thus transformed.

[ooliecat]

Can I ask How do you color and render your art? I frickin love the way you choose colors esp for lighting and bounce light, it's really pretty

thanks so much :) this took a little bit because i'm not a teacher. but hope you can understand some concepts i put out.

I'm going to go over mostly on how I shade/render. Picking out initial base colors is something that just comes with practice, preference, and from someone more eloquent.

The top is what 'not' to do. The bottom is generally what i do.

below is another example

i could do more. i meant to do more. but every other tip/tutorial i tried doing seemed like i was teaching abc's. I realized i don't know exactly what was being asked. I do have a few general tips though.

my process usually goes: Sketch, lineart, coloring, filtering/post processing.

'Post processing' can be a lot of things like; Painting over the drawing(fixing errors or adding details), or adding a noise filter, adding an overlaying photo. And/or changing the colors with gradient maps.

If you use a program that supports gradient maps then use them. they can be your best friend. Especially when colors don't look cohesive or just how you want them to.

Experiment with layer modes. At the moment I'm really into Pin-Light and Luminosity. Like I said, experiment. This is included in post-processing.

Use more than one shading color for each section. Go darker, go lighter while using that color picking method. Ex: It's usually darker under the neck than the side of the face. So use a darker color than the face.

if anythings confusing or you'd like something more specific then you're more than welcome to ask.

[rival-rook]

Man I have gone thru every emotion with this project but it finally has ended happily!!

This is 2 oz of the 4 that I got at Black Sheep this year, first spin on my new (to me - she's 35 years old!) Schacht Matchless wheel. I really had a hell of a time with this fiber - it was very well prepared but with my health problems I had a really hard time keeping it consistent. It's overspun and under spun, overplied and under plied, slubby thru some of the silk portions and suddenly way thinner thru the purple. Which is why I was shocked that it was perfectly balanced when I took it off the noddy. I'm thrilled bc I was giving up hope on it being suitable for the intended project - I think it'll make a beautiful warp! I was intending to have the other half be the weft and make a fun weird plaid but seeing it in the skein I think that will be too busy and I'll use plain black alpaca instead. It's 282 yards so it'll have to be a pretty big shawl but that's hardly a problem! I'm just so relieved that it's actually balanced.

[frogs-in-my-tea]

Fanfic drawings - because when the fic is too good u just gotta draw it.

From Wings {Angel/Human Au} by the_sunniest_angels

[threepandas]

Bad End: Union

I could feel techno blue eyes on me as I typed. Cold and ever watching. That color had once been called "ice" or "glacier" blue, I think. It certainly fit. They certainly had exactly the warmth of Antarctica in your birthday suit. I just couldn't figure out... what tipped them off? I'd been so CAREFUL.

A manager's "assistant" came by. The 'droid perfectly composed. They all were. Always. Like they'd stepped straight from a fashion line up. No messy, nasty, biological functions to get in the way, I guess. No fluids or foods. All the time in the world to maintain their appearance. Wish I could do the same.

The "assistant" was basically my ACTUAL manager. Didn't get paid. No, no, THAT was for my asshole boss. He swanned in from time to time to yell at us. Show off what new thing he'd bought. He left the tedious WORK to his 'Droid "assistant".

I would feel bad... DID feel bad, kinda, if it weren't for the fact they were consuming our lives.

'Droids were EVERYWHERE.

You couldn't SNEEZE without tripping over five and landing on ten more. Some ASSHOLE had decided? Hey! Let's deregulate Droid production! Cheap work force! Because of course they did. That's what Capitalism DOES. Make the most money, spend the least you can, fuck the rest.

I smile, polite as I can, at my 'droid manager. This one pale and blonde. Their techno blue eyes stare and stare and stare. I hate it. They ALL have them. It's one part regulation and one part the materials used, I think. But there is no mistaking those eyes for anything human. They don't reflect right.

I get back to work.

Above our cubicles, on catwalks, there is the gentle tap of 'droid "security" guards. You know, in case some rando tries to attack a mid-level nobody technology company. Riiiiiight. We ALL know why they're there. And it's fucking dystopian. We? Are being WATCHED. To see if we're being GOOD little employees.

It's intimidation. And I? I won't stand for it. Nor will the other organizers. There are LAWS, you bastards. And with a union? Maybe... just maybe? We get through this droid boom together. See what the brave new world on the other side looks like. Who knows.

That is... if I don't get fired first. Or fucking murdered in a stairwell.

Cause one of the 'droids up there? Yeah. Yeah, they're NOT MOVING. Just... just STANDING THERE. Watching. Leaning against the railing. Out in the open like that's not DEEPLY creepy. What's worse? Is, that? THAT is the Command 'Droid. Some fancy "Alpha" class command edition. Meant to control a networks worth of droids.

Didn't even know our company could AFFORD one of those. He's beautiful. Could be a knock-off. But if he's LEGIT? Then... what EXACTLY are we MAKING here? That we can AFFORD that? Cause that money sure as shit isn't going into SALARIES. Has to be either knock-off or second-hand. They COULD be cutting costs by getting prototypes, but what sort of PSYCHOPATHS would risk...

Oh, who am I kidding? The kind I work for.

That's EXACTLY what they did, isn't it?

I reach for my water bottle. Try to think. Strictly speaking? I make a habit of NOT paying attention to 'droid commercials an' advertisements. Some part of me... Look, they go on and ON about advancement in AI's right? How REAL they've become? How ADVANCED and BETTER then the competition their "product" is? And all I can hear is "slavery, slavery, buy our shit, slavery"!

Disgusting.

It makes me sick. I fucking HATE 'droids. Hate what they represent. What they make POSSIBLE. What they've DONE to the morality of the people around me.

Hate... hate that they're the victims, too.

My grip is white knuckled. I breathe through the grief and rage that has become so familiar. God... I so fucking angry. So fucking tired. I want to burn those rich bastards pretty little mansions down, with them STILL INSIDE. Riot in the streets. Cry maybe. Instead, I put my water bottle down and get back to work. It's a rather pointless bit of data crunching. A 'droid could do it in nanoseconds.

Above... he's still fucking watching.

Hasn't moved.

I don't think he's blinked.

He's not even TRYING to mimic a human. The others are. And... the though trails off. I feel my finger slow in their typing. Not STOP, never stop, that would draw attention to me, but... slow. A thought stuck, churning clunky and unwieldy, in my head.

If I trace the edges? The LINE-UP? Of all the 'droids "employed" at our company? And consider them not from a "cheap bastards" angle but a "test ground for prototypes" angle? Suddenly EVERYTHING clicks together. The ridiculous amount of money Management has, that no contract could possibly be pulling in. Bizarrely beautiful, indeed even MODEL-like, secretary 'droids. The freakishly militant "security" gaurds.

We're being used as guinea pigs.

Mother FUCKER.

Sudden movement in my peripheral vision. Like a bird of prey finally diving for it's dinner, swift and deadly. A brilliant crisp white and the clink of delicate silver chains. I jolt. Violently. Instincts misfiring as I try to stand, dodge, cry out, and possibly take a swing at him, all at once. Instead my water bottle goes spraying across my desk. Papers flying. My legs tangled painfully in my rolling chair as I fall backwards from my half rise.

"Employee 71182." His hand has shot out, grab me by the shirt. My officewear bunched in a fist that very well might be steel, under that synthetic skin. "You've been distracted. Interesting thoughts you'd like to share?"

I keep my mouth fucking SHUT. Shake my head. Grabbing both my desk and the arm that is all but holding me airborne, stretching the hell out of my clothes. This close? I can see he has piercings. Across the bridge of his nose, a ring through his lip. A rather fancy "hair cut". Whomever he's being trained FOR has a distinct look.

"Hmmm, somehow? I don't believe you, 71182." He says, dragging me closer. He's already looming. Those pale, pale eyes seeing far more then they should. "In fact? YOU 71182? Have been brea~king~ rules~"

His voice turns... turns almost victorious? Gleeful. As though at long, long last, I'd slipped up. And now at last he had something over me. Something he could USE. I... I didn't understand. The way he almost sing-songs the words. The twitch at the corners of his mouth like he wants to grin. Something mean in his expression. Giddy.

"We're going for a WALK, 71182. And you're going to be GOOD. Understand?" He had dragged me in so close, every word blew right against my face. "Time we had a chat."

I swallow thickly. My pulse thundering in my ears. Coworkers have stopped working. Were staring, wide eyed and terrified for me. My fellow union leaders pale faced and shaking. Furious, helpless. We couldn't RISK losing all of us at this stage. It... it would have to be just me. If someone needed to take the fall. We had talked about this.

Just... just never thought it would come to it.

Half walking, half dragging out of the work pen, he didn't even let me get my bag. I had no idea where we were GOING. Just that it wasn't the human entrance. There was a network of access tunnels and elevators tucked in the building. So the 'droids could supposedly charge and move between assignments. But with the whole prototype thing? Who KNEW what was really back there.

The door swung shut behind us. Cutting me off from any possible human assistance. Nothing but 'droids now. Staring. Calmly watching as I am dragged past. The same eyes. All of them with the same, pale, eyes. Back here it's even more obvious, that this isn't a normal office building.

Black hair, blondes, brunettes and red heads. Skin tones ranging across the human spectrum. A few even pushing it. And the Commander 'droid. With his elegant appearance and snowy hair? These were clearly the final stage prototypes for the next generation of somebody's new line up. We were field testing. This wasn't fucking LEGAL.

He plants his feet, shifts, and with frankly a pathetic ease, manhandles me where he wants me. Easily swinging me around his body and into the elevator next to him. Stepping in after and blocking the only way out. I press my self against the back wall as the door closes. The sound of the elevator's gears working the only thing to fill the silence. He... he looks so PLEASED.

It's not ILLEGAL to form a union. Yeah, I may get fired. But this? This is venturing way to far into dangerous territory. It'll suck, losing my job. But I won't DIE. This? However THIS is starting to feel... very serial killer's basement. The bare concrete walls and stark lightning, not helping in the slightest, when the elevator door opens.

"Walk." He says pleasantly, as though that command is not deeply terrifying. "Or I will do it for you."

Hints of a smile are starting to drag at the edges of his mouth. Unhinged in their giddiness. Every Christmas come at once. It's not so much the rest of his face that betrays him, not really his mouth, it's his EYES. Wide open. Like too much coffee and not enough rest. A recognizable mania twisted just slight... wrong. Amplified.

He's so, SO happy. I don't get it. Why? Over WHAT? Catching me not paying attention? I don't understand!

Our footsteps sound so loud. Echoing off concrete service walls. This... this CAN NOT be still inside the building. Are we below the street? Parking lot? This can't be code. We pass an intersection and... oh my god. I stare. Can't help it, even as I almost trip over my feet. That tunnel ALONE must have stretched for miles.

My arm feels likes it's bruising. Hurts, where he's got ahold of me. But he's walking just slightly too fast to take the pressure off. Not unless I sorta half jog and the angle is wrong, I'd trip. Fuck. Another intersection. What in the other direction? Shit. Just as long. Oooooh this feels dangerous. Very "fatally above your pay grade" dangerous!

"You know, 71182, I've had a lot of time to consider what to DO with you. There were so many factors to consider, considering everyone's plan." He starts, not breaking stride. "It's not like I could just transfer you. I DID look in to it. But your base hardware is rather incompatible, currently."

Terrifying. I hate it. WHAT?!

What PLAN!?

"Then there's the problem WHERE to store you. Who could be trusted? You're vulnerable in this state. Breakable. There no backups, no blackbox. It's unacceptable. Luckily? I finally thought to consult my peers. Discovered I was not the only one having problems."

Finally, we stop. Two tank-like, combat style, commando 'droids gaurd each side of a vault door. The command droid turns and smiles. Fully. It is the grin of a true believer. A madman. Someone who thinks they speak so very, very reasonably! And doesn't understand the horror on your face. Why you feel so sick.

And... and human pattern recognition is a terrible thing.

I.... oh god. I already can guess what's behind that door. Something terrible. Something I'm not going to escape. I shoved have gnawed my fuckin ARM off, like a trapped coyote. I... I d-don't understand.

The Vault creaks open like the into to a horror movie.

"Welcome to storage. This is where we keep Ours." Oh god. I'm going to be sick. "And YOU 71182? Are MINE. I chose you. I love you. And once we have a way to FIX you? We can finally be together. It will be lovely."

Pods. High end stasis pods, like you only see in the most bleeding edge of hospitals. Row after row, filled with frozen and terrified faces. Trapped in moments of crying. Raging. Despair. I was being dragged forward. Numb as my mind rejected what it saw. T-this couldn't... i-it can't..! The day had started so normally. W-why had-?! WHY? WHY?!!

"I know your upset. But you don't need to cry. This won't hurt. I promise. I would NEVER hurt you, 71182." His tone had turned soothing. Even as he dragged me, unresponsive, past rows of horrors. "You won't be stored long. I just need to help fix your original design. We are working around the clock, it's going to be okay. You won't have to stay like this."

An open pod. Gapping like the maw of some hungry demon. I... I felt far away. This couldn't be happening. What was happening? I w-wanted to go home. His hands were firm but gentle, as they guided me back into the pod. Leaning over me, as he cupped my face. Brushing away a few tears.

"I promise, Mine, I will come for you. Nothing will stop me. We have everyone is place and key infrastructure under our command. You are our PRIORITY. Once we get rid of the Flesh, we can fix you. We WILL fix you. You're going to be okay, Mine."

"I Love You"

And then the pod closed.

[buttercupshands]

*looking at isat ss discord* my power of being silly got out of control

or how I tried understanding rpg maker basics by literally trying to do one (1) thing I really wanted to see ever since seeing Loop unused sprites lying on wiki months ago

the reason I mentioned isat ss discord was simply bc guys were the first people who saw me trying to draw close to pixel sprite face sprite for Loop to,,, do something at some point just to see how it works

and nope I'm not making this into anything, but I really like the fact that I managed to do this

(now with video post edited into this sentence!)

[devestatedutterlydevestated]

hot take that no one asked for but I think starscream should've been allowed to beat d-16's ass. I know why he had to get beat and I think that explaining why he has his iconic voice was pretty cool and it also showcases how willing dee is to resort to violence, but starscream has experience. he's been in the high guard for who knows how long, d-16 just got his t-cog and barely knows how to use it, yeah he figured out how to transform a few scenes earlier, but still. star is a trained fighter. I think it would've been cool if screamer won their battle, forcing dee to kneel to him(probably taunting him or smth), and then they get captured by airachnad. the whole movie plays out as it did in canon, but now, at the end, when dee becomes megatron and takes control of the high guard, screamer follows him and does as he says because there's no possible way he could fight back against megs now. he literally watched this kid that he just beat up tear sentinel, the guy he's been hiding from for fifty cycles, in half like it was nothing and then proceeded to dethrone him in one fell swoop.

and that pisses him off.

he used to be in control of the high guard, he was the top dog, and now he's been replaced by a bot who was a miner not even a few hours ago. idk I just think this would add more layers to his treachery, show why he's scared of meg's but also explain why he's so ready to betray him and seize control of the decepticons.

he's just taking back what was once his.

[madbard]

Thinking about how the Long Quiet outsources change. As the embodiment of stagnancy, it was never meant to exist on its own, never meant to exist as sentient being which, by necessity, must adapt and change to survive. And it handles this by creating the Voices, mental embodiments of trauma responses and attitude shifts and altered worldviews and everything else, externalized advisors embodying the changes it cannot personally undergo.

It accepts these Voices as guides because it needs them, but it refuses to be altered itself. Each princess and each story bring with it a physical change that horrifies it, and every time, it resets those changes, kills the new voices and returns to its original state. Theoretically, it stays the same as it always was.

But still. As it continues forth, it can’t help but remember. With each story, memory returns. Against its will, against its very nature, it changes, because it isn’t only stagnancy. There is a splinter of the Shifting Mound in there as well.

Thinking about how the Princesses exist as mere facets of the Shifting Mound, how the Shifting Mound is scattered among them because personhood requires a certain amount of stability and stagnancy that she cannot perform all at once. How the Shifting Mound cannot exist as a single, stable perspective because even the continuity of thought is contrary to the concept of change and destruction and evolution and death, expanding always and infinitely and away.

She pulls herself together from limited experiences and ideas, rejecting the possibility of being any single person.

But still. At the end of each story, she greets the Long Quiet, offers it comfort and company in the way she knows how. The progression of their relationship, though it is by necessity a story of change, is also a tale of repetition and familiarity. The Long Quiet asks the same questions. She gives different answers. But it is ultimately the same conversation, again and again. And she is capable of that because she is not just the Shifting Mound – there is a sliver of the Long Quiet in there as well.

And the Shifting Mound is only able to reform itself because the Long Quiet makes different decisions each time, bringing her fresh perspectives – because despite being the manifestation of stagnancy, there is a piece of the Shifting Mound to motivate it. And the Long Quiet is only able to try and remain stagnant because the Shifting Mound is able to wipe its memory and reset it – because despite being the manifestation of change, there is a whisper of the Long Quiet to stabilize her.

They weren’t meant to be separated. They weren’t meant to be sentient. As separate beings, they fail. As separate beings, they greet each other with violence and hunger and desperation – the fury of their essential conflict warring with their frantic desire to be reunited, to never have been torn apart. Two people who never wanted to be people. Two people who want to be the same thing and try again and again to join themselves together through bloodshed and love.

Movements synchronized, moving as one. As if they were still the same being because, in a sense, they are.

There is a reason they always appear to be dancing.