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Continuing Sonic Lego therapy. I am excessively amused by the fact that you finish every major step of this build by giving Sonic a chaos gem.

Posted using PostyBirb

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Sometimes, when you start to feel like jumping off a high place, you need to stop and build an airplane.

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Just because it's old doesn't mean that software tools can't be incredibly effective.

Good luck finding any of those expansion diskettes, though.

(Keeping with previous years, this Octransfur piece got away from me a bit. But anyhow, here's Day 2 - Utility, a comm for Activehenry~)

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Octransfur 01 | Adventure [C - Lockely]

An Octransfur commission for Lockely. Thank you so much for your patronage! Image Description: A custom Pokémon Trading Card Game card. In the background, a young man walks down a path leading from a Pokémon Lab on Route 1. On his belt is a single Pokéball. An inserted panel shows inside of the Pokéball, where Lockely is transforming into an Eevee. = == === == = Please fave, comment, and watch – it’s really appreciated! Drawn in Procreate on iPad Pro

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Bush smiling

Trickster Tip: Pranks, like other life experiences, are often best enjoyed with the benefit of distance and cover. Concealed foxyote by esteemed WizLicos (licographics.com) .

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I can't think about this on a Tuesday.

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There are days where nothing goes right. Days when the very nature of the universe seems excessive, uncalled-for. Days when the only thing that can salvage the situation is a 3.78-pound chunk of pre-sliced boneless ham. This has been one of those days.

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One of those "I can't sleep until I finish this" pieces.

Never done a piece that evokes a multimedia feel before.

Rowena's become a pretty meaningful character for me in the fairly short time I've had her.

The original concept was always the form being pieced together, but initially I planned on it being like magical glowing lines. A bout of inspiration directed me to go for a scrapbooking look instead.

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kobold dance

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werehog. but ball. he's too heavy and uncoordinated to actually spindash so he just kinda rolls around

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The rest of the Restoration Auxiliary Team's meeting was completely derailed as the conversation shifted to the massive cookie Lyka brought in and whether it was store bought or made in the RATs Nest.

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This is my new best friend. You may not touch him.

I designed a little stand for him last night.

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are evil dragons really evil, or are they just vitamin D deficient?

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being a manager sucks balls half the time but the cashier kids im in charge of trust me enough to dick around in front of me so ive been keeping a running list of the shit they say that makes me laugh randomly: -"guys, is it cheating if you play fortnite with your ex" [4 seperate others, immediately]: "YES" -"there must be like… infinite sentences" -"bro what bro what the fuck bro what's that mean bro why'd you say that bro what" <distraught response to a girl randomly greeting him with 'hey there big boy' in an old timey transatlantic news reporter accent

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You are carrying your Grandma’s good stabbin’ knife!

Family legend holds that Grandma acquired it the morning of her wedding day, when she entered the kitchen to discover the groom and the maid of honor on the table, doing something that did not involve plating canapés. The groom went for his pants, Grandma went for the knife, and the maid went all to pieces.

Once she had run them both out of the county, Grandma declared that she was still getting married that day, come hell or high water, whereupon the best man confessed that he had always worshipped her from afar and the day proceeded with only minor alterations. They were happily married for nearly forty years, until Grandpa’s death (not by stabbing.)

The knife served Grandma through two wars, one revolution, and a home invasion, and she gave it to you to take to college because “Child, you just never know.”

You also have a canteen, a blanket, and a deeply unreliable guidebook. And now, apparently, you also have a finch named Jimmy. He lands on your shoulder and trills excitedly to himself. {No, I’m not going to run a poll as to whether you take the finch. I know you people.}

The dark crack in the wall looms before you. With trepidation, you step inside, into a long concrete corridor holding an immense stone gear. It’s not turning. You’re not sure if it even can turn. The teeth don’t look right, and it has to weigh at least a ton.

The corridor runs east-to-west, and the concrete walls are covered in graffiti. You don’t even recognize the languages of half of them. There’s even a line up near the ceiling that looks like cuneiform, and you don’t think concrete had even been invented at that point. And of course, drawing a dick on things is timeless, and people have. Repeatedly.

One line in English reads “Harry Mountford was here!” and is dated nearly a hundred years ago. You could almost believe that the labyrinth had been untouched all that time, but some of the graffiti looks much fresher.

The floor is covered in dried leaves blown in from outside. Which is a little odd, now that you think of it, because you’re pretty sure they’re deciduous leaves and that’s a pine forest outside. That’s as much as you can say about the leaves, though. (Look, you really WANTED to take Botany for Adventurers, but it was opposite The Wombat of Shalott and Other Pre-Raphaelite Obsessions and c’mon. You’re not made of stone.)

Both directions lead into darkness. You can hear a very faint rhythmic squeaking coming from the west.