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pinkatron · 3 hours
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Ok but look. If I am writing a fantasy piece and I want a 20 hand horse to barrel through the enemy horde of orcs, I damned well am going to write it. Its called fantasy for a reason!
My Biggest and Most Annoying Fictional Horse Pet Peeve
Big Horses are a Very New Thing and they Likely Didn’t Exist in your Historical and/or Fantasy Settings.
You’ve all seen it in every historical piece of media ever produced. Contrary to popular belief, a big black horse with long legs and long flowing mane is not a widespread or even a particularly old type of horse.
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THIS IS NOT A MEDIEVAL THING. THIS IS NOT EVEN A BAROQUE THING. THIS IS A NINETEENTH CENTURY CITY CARRIAGE HORSE.
All the love to fancy Friesian horses, but your Roman general or Medieval country heroine just really couldn’t, wouldn’t, and for the sake of my mental health shouldn’t have ridden one either.
Big warmblood horses are a Western European and British invention that started popping up somewhere around 1700s when agriculture and warfare changed, and when rich folks wanted Bigger Faster Stronger Thinner race horses. The modern warmblood and the big continental draught both had their first real rise to fame in the 1800s when people started driving Fancy Carriages everywhere, and having the Fanciest Carriage started to mean having the Tallest and Thinnest Horses in the town.
Before mechanised weaponry and heavy artillery all horses used to be small and hardy easy-feeders. Kinda like a donkey but easier to steer and with a back that’s not as nasty and straight to sit on.
SOME REAL MEDIEVAL, ROMAN, OTTOMAN, MONGOL, VIKING, GREEK and WHATEVER HISTORICALLY PLAUSIBLE HORSES FOR YOU:
“Primitive”, native breeds all over the globe tend to be only roughly 120-140 cm (12.0 - 13.3 hh) tall at the withers. They all also look a little something like this:
Mongolian native horse (Around 120-130 at the withers, and decendants of the first ever domesticated horses from central Asia. Still virtually unchanged from Chinggis Khan’s cavalry, ancestor to many Chinese, Japanese and Indian horses, and bred for speed racing and surviving outdoors without the help of humans.)
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Carpathian native horse / Romanian and Polish Hucul Pony (Around 120-150 at the withers, first mentioned in writing during the 400s as wild mountain ponies, depicted before that in Trajanian Roman sculptures, used by the Austro-Hungarian cavalry in the 19th century)
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Middle-Eastern native horse / Caspian Pony (Around 100-130 at the withers, ancestor of the Iranian Asil horse and its decendants, including the famous Arabian and Barb horses, likely been around since Darius I the Great, 5th century BC, and old Persian kings are often depicted riding these midgets)
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Baltic Sea native horse / Icelandic, Finnish, Estonian, Gotland and Nordland horses (Around 120-150 at the withers, descendant of Mongolian horses, used by viking traders in 700-900 AD and taken to Iceland. Later used by the Swedish cavalry in the 30 years war and by the Finnish army in the Second World War, nowadays harness racing and draught horses)
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Siberian native horse / Yakutian pony (Around 120-140 at the withers, related to Baltic and Mongolian horses and at least as old, as well-adapted to Siberian climate as woolly mammoths once were, the hairiest horse there is, used in draught work and herding)
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Mediterranean native horse / Skyros pony, Sardinian Giara, Monterufolino (Around 100-140 at the Withers, used and bred by ancient Greeks for cavalry use, influenced by African and Eastern breeds, further had its own influence on Celtic breeds via Roman Empire, still used by park ranger officers in Italy)
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British Isles’ native horse / various “Mountain & Moorland” pony breeds (Around 100-150 at the withers, brought over and mixed by Celts, Romans and Vikings, base for almost every modern sport pony and the deserving main pony of all your British Medieval settings. Some populations still live as feral herds in the British countryside, used as war mounts, draught horses, mine pit ponies, hunting help and race horses)
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So hey, now you know!
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pinkatron · 3 days
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rorveth is not a fucking canon and 99% of it is fan water without justification.
Welcome to the internet friend. Let me help you out a bit.
For the sake of clarity, address the ship using their proper names. Roche x Iorveth. Second, they are indeed not a fucking Canon. That sentence makes no sense. They could be a fucking cannon, which sure why not. Or they could be not canon, which is also true.
As to fan water without justification? Fan water? Like... water that goes into a fan to cool the air? (We call them swamp coolers) or fan water like those egirls who sell their bath water?
Neither of those make a lick of sense.
I am guessing you are the same person that left the nonsense ask earlier if your grasp of the English language is anything to go by. I hope you learn it a bit better so you can actually argue points without looking like a vaguely disappointed three year old who's mother told them that sometimes vegetables touch on the plate and thats ok.
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pinkatron · 3 days
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Geralt and Regis have sex before finding a pancake
Geralt, ah, that is.” He looked around awkwardly, a blush rising to his cheeks. Geralt tilted his head. “Well, sleeping with you last night, it was amazing. I don’t get good sleep often, and I was out last night. But when I woke, I was against you and-ah-oh I am out of practice. You smelled, ah- What I mean to say is…”
Geralt was smiling now as he inched closer to the vampire.
“I think, well, actually I know I would like to…” Regis looked at the slowly approaching witcher who’s eyes had dilated like a cat’s ready to pounce, it flustered him further. “Geralt! This is difficult for me to get out!”
“Hmm.” Geralt pressed in on him as Regis tried to move away but was foiled by the headboard. “I think there is some place I would rather you get in.”
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pinkatron · 3 days
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Can you make sense of that nonsense rant that anon sent you? I can’t make heads or tails what they’re trying to say except something about Ciri? Is that ciri as in the Witcher ciri?
No I can't LOL but yay on them for being impassioned??
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pinkatron · 3 days
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FUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYSFUCK YOUR SHITTY CIRVRAN IORNON AND CIRYS
Someone needs to make a song from this!
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pinkatron · 4 days
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I can show you some Trash!!!! awesome opposum and racoon tattoo I got to do!!!
I HAVE OPENINGS including very suddenly this Friday and this saterday! Friday is an early morning apointment!!! hit me up!!!!
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pinkatron · 16 days
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Players join the game and Geralt begins to see that the mess Dragfa is in is deeper then he could have ever imagined.
“I work alone.” Geralt said adding, “I have a contract which shall be paid upon completion no matter who makes the final blow. I am not doing this for the reward, I am doing it because I will be paid to do so. You can have whatever it is you wish.”
“Dangerous words, but now I am even more intrigued.” The man looked at him and eyed him up. “You are right, I do wish for the reward, but I am more interested in seeing the man myself, bringing him in if I can.”
“Do you know who he is? After all you asked a second question, and such I am owed the answer.” Geralt looked to him and the man grinned again.
“Oh, what fun you are, clever man.” He laughed. “Men like the one we seek are clever too. A name I do not have, for if I did, it would make this far easier, and I would know where to look. Any other information you likely have, he is a mage of some sort, he has been hidden from the eyes of the powers that be, and he has not been cruel to his victims, nor does he take pleasure from the murder he entreats them to. All of the girls have been drugged with Either, they do not know their deaths.”
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pinkatron · 23 days
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A lucky break leads Geralt and Regis to their first confrontation with the murderers.
“Duck! Duck cover your ears, cover…” he didn’t have enough time to warn them. The ball of fire exploded. It exploded with enough force that Geralt felt one of his ear drums rupture and he was thrown down the steps. The sound of shattered and falling glass made it through the ringing in his ears as he pulled himself up and charged to the door. He hit it with all his weight, and it flew off the hinges. He heard a cry, a scream, then men’s voices.
“With me!” He shouted, and charged into the house, flying up the narrow stairs. The house was three stories tall, narrow, and absolutely cramped. He charged up one flight and heard someone sobbing.
“Leave her, we have been had!” Someone hissed, and Geralt felt the pulse of magic make his amulet burn hot. “Quickly, quickly, I can’t hold it…”
He reached the landing, and charged forwards into a room where there was a glow. He tore down the door and drew his sword.
Notes:
Starting in with the heavy stuff this chapter, both in terms of violence and in terms of sex. Remember, please read the mast list of trigger tags in the first chapter!
Remember to comment, kudos and bookmark
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pinkatron · 30 days
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Next chapter up! Chapter preview:
Geralt and Regis go for a drive and catch up.
“You bought one of these?” Geralt stared at the automobile which was pulled up beside another one in the Employees stable yard.
“Indeed! They are all the rage!” Regis beamed. “I didn’t ride my bike today because I thought you would be here earlier. It’s easier to get around in this, people avoid you like you have the plague and the only limiting factor to how fast you can go is how far down you can press the peddle. Since the bikes came out, I haven’t had a need for a horse that could tolerate me, and since the automobile came out? Well, let’s just say I have an idea for my future if they can get one that works as a team of horses. Go on, hop in!”
Geralt pulled himself up onto the contraption. He felt high up, and the thing felt oddly flimsy. Regis grabbed a crank and grinned.
++
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pinkatron · 30 days
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My arms... my poor weak noodles arms @_@. The skin on the obliques is very squishy/stretchy ughhhhh much pain
Looks great though!
My books are open! PM me for a consult!
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pinkatron · 1 month
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NEXT CHAPTER UP!!!!
Geralt meets with an old friend, and takes on a contract which is more then it appears to be.
**
He began to hear them now, rustling around, making low calls beyond human hearing. He began to hear the splash of water too. He looked to his notes and saw that the cistern in which they were nesting normally only held three feet or so of water, just enough to let the refuse settle. But the rains of the past weeks had flooded it. As it stood now, the water was twelve feet, for that’s all it could handle. There were several outlets that should have allowed it to drain, but the drowners or the Zeugl had likely closed them off in efforts to make their environment ideal. It was an old nest, which had some new influx, likely from females as it was spawning season. Geralt frowned, and inched his way to the outlet where the water was draining. The catwalk, which normally hovered nearly ten feet from the water, was submerged by nearly a foot and half. He could see the drowners clearly. He could see clutches of eggs floating near the surface, anchored to the iron catwalk.
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pinkatron · 1 month
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Hello all I am back on my buklshit again coming to you with a steaming hot and fresh new Witcher story which takes place in the continent's future!
Fic preview:
The city was alive. Really, that’s all one could say about it and one could barely say that on the best of days. Fall rains which had been blanketing the coast of Bremervoord for nearly two weeks, had finally begun to let up. But once it had let up, fog and smog filled the already tar dyed cobblestones which lined the main road leading into the city center. Every house was burning coal and the result was a toxic miasma, which was being held close to the ground.
People rushed to-and-fro, even during this late hour. Houses would open, laughter and music would pierce the veil of fog and bright light would flood the streets for a moment as a couple quickly left, scurrying into one of the waiting carriage taxis like rats. The taxis, often with lame horses foaming at the mouth, would rush into the fog, taking their occupants to parts unknown without a care for who or what may be in their way. Several times, the sounds of the city were broken by the shrill screaming of humans and horses, followed by the sound of gunshots. The smell of horse blood was thick in the air too as carts hauled by mules would pick up the unfortunate beasts and cart them to less than savory places to be pieced out and sold or utilized to make glue and ink.
Electric lights lined the main road, their warm buzzing bulbs providing another sound which made the city seem even more unbearable to those who would avoid it if they could. They stood proudly beside the oil lanterns and the listless men who lit the lamps looked to them in fear of the jobs they would soon lose.
The world was changing. It always was.
The sound of steel horseshoes on cobblestone was not unusual in the city at night, but a singular rider, draped in a thick oiled wool cloak quieted the noise. Men and women looked on to the rider, who looked as a specter of death, riding silently as carriages rushed around him with shouted words.
He truly was a specter of death, for who could imagine one such as he could still be alive, still be riding even though he was born nearly three hundred and fifty years ago? His eyes, glowing golden, were hidden behind dark spectacles. They stared forwards, as ladies clung to their friends and pointed, before coughing and hurrying to find themselves back through their windows and into their houses.
It used to be, in times past, he would enter a city and he would run the risk of either being stoned or challenged. But these days, people didn’t know of his kind like they used to. These days works of historical fact were looked upon  as fiction and the idea that something like him could have ever existed was told to young boys and girls with an air of glory. He was a hero in the stories, always. He died a hero in those stories too.
But Geralt of Rivia had not died. He had lived and so too had the rest of his caste.
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pinkatron · 2 months
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Yusssssssss
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Lil fanart of @andordean‘s Blood Ties I’m just reading and I’m totally speechless, oh my poor heart… It’s so wonderful and well-thought! I can’t!!!! 
I will certainly draw something else but it will be different in the mood so it’s better not put it together. 
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pinkatron · 2 months
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My process for tattooing preproduction! Featuring a time-lapse of my drawing process! Our lovely old stencil machine which I love and my amazing client who is letting me take pokemons and have fun with them!
Let me know in the comments if you would like to see more of this!
I am currently open for tattoos and I am booking march to may! Message me if you would like to get on my books!
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pinkatron · 2 months
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Hey 😊👋,
wanna say hi, send you some homemade coffee or tee you like. Hope you have a good day and if it's hard I hope it will be better soon. Your art is amazing, I love your tatoos and I adore your fics 🤗💜, Lizz
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YAY!!!! Coffee!!!!
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pinkatron · 3 months
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Alright, the casting has had tome to settle for Regis, so its time to weigh in.
First things first. With the conclusion of season 3 and the story changes from which there is no recovery in my mind, I have made the decision for my own wellbeing to continue my stance on TWN being an AU fanfic rewrite.
That being said, like most I was rather blindsided by the casting of Laurence Fishborne as Regis. However after my initial knee jerk "take the redpill" moment, I realized that I love Lawrence Fishborne. I very specifically LOVE his potryal of the Bowery King in John Wick. I use him as inspiration for a lot of characters including one in an origanal series I am writing.
Now he looks nothing like the book description of Regis, however the Bowery King and Regis are parallel characters as far as I am concerned. The whole idea of Regis is as a raggedy ass barbour surgeon who is far too well spoken for his place in society. That is Regis to a T.
TWN may not be the witcher i want, but the casting of Laurence Fishborne is something I am looking forward to.
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pinkatron · 5 months
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I have gotten to see La Dame aux Camellias in person.... those stars are reflective!!!
https://twitter.com/Pinkuh/status/1724655529740349552
The link is to a video which shows this off!
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some of sarah bernhardt’s titular roles in posters by alphonse mucha
la dame aux camélias (1880), la tosca (1887), gismonda (1894), lorenzaccio (1896), medée (1898), hamlet (1899) 
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