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I personally love the way u draw the sinners, u rlly give them a lot of personality!! Looking forward to whatever u draw next (IF I had to make this a proper ask tho, how would u draw dante? Havent seen him in any of ur posts yet)

first of all, kicking my feet rolling around giggling like a high school girl <3333333 i love drawing the sinners as silly lil guys so im super super happy yall like them too!!!!!

second of all,

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wanted to draw what the sinners' mornings would look like and that evolved into redrawing this classic exchange

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A Potential Timeline for Project Moon Media (Spoilers for all media)

Note: This is mostly broad guesses based on certain interactions/lines across all the available media and common sense (i.e, the smallest or simplest possible time span), so there may be some spoilers from other games. I may also be misremembering some things and skipping others as well, so corrections/additions are welcome.

(I will be using the Day/Month/Year format)

1/985: Nocturnal Sweeping and Canto VIII occur. Lin Daiyu is almost 30, but not 30.

Hong Lu is older than Daiyu, and his birthday is 6/6. He is either 29 or 30.

1/984 to 12/984: Selva Oscura to LCB Check-Up occur.

Late 12/983 to Early 1/984: The Sinners finally meet each other and form the body of LCB.

24/12/983: Sinclair’s family is massacred by Kromer and N Corp.’s inquisition (upper limit).

If the Sinners’ number is connected to the order in which they were recruited, then Outis and Gregor joined Limbus after Sinclair, pushing the formation date of LCB to early January 984.

6/983 to 12/983: Considering the previous theory, all Sinners, from Don Quixote to Gregor, are recruited by Limbus.

Yi Sang is a mysterious case, but he was recruited before Aseah was “stolen” by the Ring (which was stated in Leviathan) or after he returned (end of Leviathan). I’m partial to him being recruited after Aseah returned, as Hermann mentioned him in Yi Sang’s flashback and Gubo didn’t make any reference to Yi Sang in Leviathan.

6/983: Leviathan (Chapter 2 onwards) occurs.

24/12/982: Chapter 1 of Leviathan happens.

Lower limit for Sinclair’s family to be killed.

Late 11/982 to Early 12/982: Angela releases the Light and the Library is exiled to the Outskirts.

The League of Nine collapses at some time before the release of Light, but within the same year and close to it (“Pierce of a Torn Winter” EGO gift). This is due to the Ring becoming obsessed with Vergilius’ orphans (his orphanage was attacked by the first Library’s guests to wake up), which is the likely reason for them to “steal” Aseah from Nagel und Hammer to begin with.

~981 to 982: Library of Ruina and Distortion Detective occur.

Timeline is unclear. It's unlikely the entire game took more than 2 years, especially due to the latter half and the SotC/Impuritas receptions.

Distortion Detective occurs on the early part (when the Library is an Urban Legend)

~978: Ayin releases the Light, but it is sabotaged by Angela and she creates the Library. An unknown time after, likely no more than a couple of months, the first Distortion incident happens: the Pianist.

Timeline is unclear. The ritual at Quercus Village (Distortion Detective) is monthly and produced 45 Distortions, meaning that between the release of Light and LoR’s Urban Legend status there are approximately 3 years and 8 months at most. For simplicity’s sake, let’s say there are 3 years between LC and LoR.

~968 to ~978: Lobotomy Corporation occurs.

Most of the incidents we know happen around this timeframe. It’s impossible to give them a proper place.

~965 to ~968: The Smoke War happens around this time (most likely in the 966-967 range), with the new L Corp. and its allies winning. 

Assuming Gregor is 35 in 984, he fought in the Smoke War as a teenager (17 to 18).

Similarly, assuming Myo is 29 during the last part of LoR, she fought in the War as a… 13- or 14-years-old girl.

~965: Hong Lu and Lin Daiyu are approximately 10 years old. The massacre of the Kong family happens and Garion cleans it, moving to destroy Carmen’s labs in the Outskirts afterward.

~955: Lin Daiyu is born, and possibly Hong Lu too.

~784: The Human-Bloodfiend occurs, with the Manchengan family joining the human side. La Manchaland amusement park is created by Don Quixote, but after some time it collapses.

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those posts about corroded hong lu ego foreshadowing The Event by giving him an exposed/damaged abdomen are now making me go through other corroded egos to see what else we can glean and i when i look at some of ryoshu's,

i kinda see a uterus... which i guess isnt saying much cuz we already know she's a mom but still. neat i think

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wanted to redraw this with limbus characters and spun a wheel. dont care if it's ooc it's silly

also did the rest of the comic under the cut. if u care <3

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The first bullet

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if it helps, heres an unobstructed version of it + some other notes lying around

I havent seen any other person post about this before so I need to do it myself

This letter is in the background of Check-Ups mao. Idk why noone mentions it, but more than that, I have NO IDEA WHY ITS THERE TO BEGIN WITH!?!?!?

It is Clearly for Meursault. Aside from the obvious feature that its in French, its denoted as 'Lettre X', his sinner order number. That being said, it is very low res and hard to decypher, but I did give it a quick pass:

Nous appronons dans l'(?) A Resmond(?) est mort. On menu a la ecadre se tristes trop profonde. Cette ne lesont(?) certainement encore. Donc, nul doute que le lettre funme(?) se sapporte a la mer (?). Cette d'eteration mamamama I cant read past this next part at all. Toute celle faux ce serrant lui

Im a native French speaker and I have no clue what this says, the text that I can parse is harf to make sense of, but in general. I think it has a clear message its attempting to communicate

Someone named Resmond is dead, and Meursault is likely being invited to a funeral. Resmond isn't a character in L'Étranger but, very notably, Raymond IS. Raymond is the man who, in a way or another, ends up being responsible for Meursault's arrest

If Raymond is really dead this is like. Insane. Raymond never visits Meursaulf in jail and is barely noted upon during his trial, so his ultimate fate in the novel is completely absent and irrelevant. This means that if he is actually dead, Meursault's canto might start with him being summoned for the procession, just like how he was at the start of L'Étranger with his mother. And, quite notably, it seems like in Limbus, she's already dead

Much to contemplate.

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siffrin finds out about chronic depersonalization

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the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

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did tumblr just. not work. for like an hour for anyone else or was that just me

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post-check up

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my uncle works at project moon and showed me this very cool and normal and real id promo leak O_O

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heya! I hope it's not too odd of a question, but I'm an editor on Cogitopedia (a general PJM wiki) and I just saw the insanely high quality logos you made. Would it be alright to use those files on the wiki with credit to you? Either way, thank you for the cool work!

of course!!!

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the first 9 are association logos (i wouldve posted them in numerical order, but i did it backwards by mistake and too late to fix it now oops). in order, they are oufi (11), dieci (10/X), devyat (9), seven (7), liu (6), cinq (5), shi (4), zwei (2), and hana (1).

the last ones are actual wing logos - u, m, i, l, w, t, s, r, k, n, and h.

fuck uyou *hi res's the project moon verse logos by hand*

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fuck uyou *hi res's the project moon verse logos by hand*

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a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower