several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

YIPPEE!!

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

LESBIAN SPIDER RAHHHHHH

Haven't been able to draw these in the last three days bc college, so you get 3 spoods at once! This time theyre Gasteracantha!!

Hoping i can keep up again since currently im on holiday

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

I'm Chinese, and honestly when people say 'Chinese' they think they are referring to (either or) Mandarin and Cantonese, but little do they know!!! That there are dozens of Chinese languages!! Many are not mutually intelligible. It's easy to cross into the next province and not understand what the locals are saying. Also, there is more to the dragon boat festival than dragon boats. We hang mugwort(a kind of herb) on our doors to ward off bad luck. We eat rice dumplings wrapped in leaves to celebrate a poet who took his own life by jumping into a river. The dumplings were created as bait for the fish, so they would not eat his corpse. And now they are a traditional dish !!

We all have more to learn about each other. We all need to get to know each other better. We all need to learn how to forgive and help each other learn.

I am Cree, and in my language we call tea 'maskikiy wâpoy' which means medicine liquid.

Please tell me something about your country, your people, or your language!

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

When Amy Li rushes home from work, it is to such a sickening rush of blood downward to her feet that she almost collapses. Really, she's been meaning to get it checked out; but now all the clinics have stuck a long, winding price tag attached to her health without cushy, Zhang Laboratories insurance. So much for trying her hand at any sort of scientific work when they fired her for refusing to fix her goddamn fucking spine.

"Bodily defects are unconducive to company image" her ass. It didn't take an idiot to see that drivel for what it was. And now another new problem was looming in front of her, leering and jeering. The pharmacy wouldn't offer any sort of fallback, of course. But as she half-stumbles to her rickety little dinner table, another solution presented itself. She'd torn that slip of AlgoPaper(trademarked, of course) off of a lamppost. "FREELANCE MEDICAL SERVICES - PRICE NEGOTIABLE LOCATION FLEXIBLE - RELIABLE QUALITY" Amy doesn't know so much about the "reliable quality" of those services, but she supposed that she had no other choice. Heaving a sigh, she picked up her tablet and typed in the number scrawled on that slip.

To her relief, the doctor replied remarkably quickly. When they ask Amy to describe her problems, she does so readily; then came the matter of location, and suddenly it felt as if a band of iron was tightening around her throat. She had no idea what this nameless, faceless "doctor" would do. Maybe they weren't even a doctor at all, but some creep or even a killer whom she'd allow to come knocking on her door- or lure into some back alley. Shaking fingers hover over the screen, fully debating deleting the number from her contacts and never thinking about it again, before she stops herself. She had no way out. Every day she was sick at work was every day she would fall behind. And she could not afford that. And so she shares her address with the doctor, and she waits. It takes around an hour for them to arrive; when she heard the odd, rhythmic knock on the door, she stands up slowly, carefully, fighting the wave of dizziness that rose and then ebbed. First she peers through the peephole to get a glimpse at this person. But no, their face was hooded and there was nothing of use to glean. So, she opens the door. The doctor's actual face makes her falter. Sculpted of dark glass slick as oil, wide glowing eyes staring right into her brown ones without blinking. Was this thing even human? An android, maybe? Amy has heard of freed androids taking up their own professions, but the thought of having a machine treat her was not one she wanted to deal with right now. "I am Shen. I'll be attending to you, and I will be very quick." Their voice was curt, clipped, almost human. Somehow more eerie than if radio static had come out of that mouth. But Amy composes herself. "Yeah, uh- come inside."

It was only when the doctor approached her that she noticed something else. That sharp bend in their spine, she has the same condition and somehow, it was a strange sort of relief in a world where people just hauled their ass to the next available doctor to get it “fixed”.

And for those that didn’t, well, they just had to deal with it.

They tapped with their crutch to the chair she had stood up from. “Take a seat.”

She does so hesitantly, and now she lets this doctor go through the motions; and she has to say she is surprised. Whether for better or for worse, she doesn’t know. The doctor’s hands are so cold, plated in that same glassy armour as they answer her questions and perform their tests. But they are patient and diligent, their tone low and quiet as they discuss options for treatment, whether Amy would prefer a pill or an implant for what turned out to be untreated hypotension.

She chooses the pill, and is even more surprised when the doctor lists the side effects with a dry tone and asks her if she still wants it. Any doctor at any proper clinic would never do this. They dangle their pills in front of patients’ faces like a charlatan pushing their snake oil— and side effects?? What are those?!

It had been the same with her scoliosis too, those old men in white coats brushing it off as ‘growing pains’ because a girl of thirteen couldn’t possibly be in real pain. Then her spine started curving, and before long she was fitted with a back brace.

Amy nods, says she still wants it. The doctor asks about payment, and their tone is plain as they ask if that will be an issue. She nods again. She’s been in the lab making these medicines before, she knew how much they cost. But then the doctor names their price.

“Ten credits per two months. That’s how much a bottle should last you if things work as they should.”

“Ten?”

“I’m a doctor, not an extortionist. Do you still want to pay?”

Amy nods, and touches her tablet to Shen’s. They dig a small vial of white pills out from a packaging box; she recognizes a familiar logo, and she wonders how the hell this doctor has managed to get their hands on the pill.

But above all, she was just relieved. As they got the paperwork in order and said their goodbyes, Amy Li watched the doctor leave and wonders how an android manages to be more compassionate than real humans, of flesh and blood.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

When Io wakes up the next day, it is to logs of wood replacing their legs.

At least, that was what it felt like to them. When they try to swing their legs over the edge of their bed, their joints were so stiff and unyielding that they could not move an inch.

How pleasant.

They grab their tablet from beside them with shaking fingers and start rescheduling one appointment after another. They didn’t bother with the patients who demanded to know why they were suddenly "backing out" on such short notice— they need not explain themselves to such people. What were they supposed to do, magic their legs into functioning just for them? The audacity.

Still, having almost been forced to take some time for themselves, they were at first at a loss. Ordinarily they would be outside already, on their way to their first patient. So what should they do now?

They find their eyes drifting along towards their tablet. They pick it up again, opening the digital art app that they hadn't touched in months, perhaps a year by now. And they opened a new sketch, stared at the blank page for several seconds before they started sketching their latest encounter. The hard, thick lines of the bridge looming over them. The rigid, thin lines of their own figure gazing downward at the barely-distinct form of the beast below. Their lines are less steady than they'd like it to be, but they didn't care.

They spend the rest of their day in bed, sketching sundry things. The stiff immobility lessened with time, and Io found that with a welcome distraction in hand they could finally take some time to rest. How pleasant. But soon enough, they would have to catch up for lost time.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

The decision to leave the safety of those waters had been that of a madman. Adam knew what would happen if he did, he’d find half a dozen bullets in him and nothing else but certain death.

Of course, he learned to keep himself hidden. Never leaving the canal save for the handful of times he has to. Travelling by sewer tunnel, or under the cover of night. Never, would he give up his safety for something as trivial as curiosity.

So why had he? Crawling out onto the shores to speak with that…being. Almost taking the of a spirit than a person to Adam, appearing so suddenly. They had been unfortunate enough to sight him and yet, they did not treat him like the serpent that had just crawled out of water, but spoke to him like a man.

Was that really so much to ask for?

Even if nothing about that being was friendly, even if their face was the facet of a machine, he finds himself wishing that they would come back. How strange, he thought, how pathetic to wish for somebody that didn’t even know his name. And so when that machine does not reappear after five days, then a week, then ten days, Adam gives up hope.

-

The decision to even stop and speak to that thing had been that of a madman. Io knew what they were supposed to do, simply cross over that bridge into the east of Andarn, think nothing more of what they saw. But they had stopped, they had listened for such a short while, and perhaps they had made a beast feel human.

The worst part? They never found themselves acting like this around humans. Their interactions were as brief as possible, as short as possible, and always necessary. When they see a homeless mudlark along the canal, they don’t stop and have a heart-to-heart, they help. If they were hurt, Io treats their wounds. If they were sick, Io gives them medicine. If they were hungry, Io gives them food. But it was always a practical act for them, not borne out of some emotional closeness but simply out of the fact that they had a duty. They couldn’t afford to be close to anyone, because the only thing giving Io a headway against any thug wanting a ransom was that they couldn’t find anyone to threaten. No one to hold against them.

And it had served them so well now, so why stop?

But as they head farther and farther away from the bridge, they couldn’t help but think back to that beast. Why had they done that? They’d never be so comfortable with a human, and perhaps it was due to the fact that they had spent so long amongst a species not truly their own, simulating everything they did that they had forgotten what it was like to see one of their own kind. What it was like not having to worry about somebody recoiling at the coldness of their hand, at the stiff mechanical tone of their voice. What a nice feeling.

So they find themselves wishing for it, too.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

What do you mean this isn’t the entire plot of Frankenstein?!?!

(Feat. My crusty silly creature fullbody drawing)

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

creature of the future, made from pieces of the past!

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Io has seen their ill-fitting forms, sickle claws and twisted tails; their faces, some of fish, serpents, rabid dogs. The children of men who thought themselves gods, rogue experiments running amok in the city. Some were grown in a tube, others of flesh and metal stitched and bolted together. They always steered clear of the beasts, if not for the fact that most were animals incapable of reason, then they simply could not afford to associate with them. They themselves were already monstrous enough as-is. But here, they weren't even sure what they were seeing. A man? A reptile? Or both, some lab-made thing that escaped and left to fester in the canal? They felt their entire body tense, cursing themselves for even approaching the canal this late at night, fully ready for the thing to lunge at him until...it spoke.

"...Hello?" the creature's voice rasped horribly, somewhere between a choking frost and the grind of stones. They take a step forward, their body rigid as a board. Poised to flee— or strike— at the slightest indication. Most of the sewer beasts couldn't speak, infact Io has never recalled any of them being able to reason like a human. But this one, it seemed to be different. So they give him a chance.

“What do you want?” Their voice was harsh, perhaps harsher than they'd intended and they notice the creature retreat backward as if startled. How strange, they thought, of such a hulking leviathan to be scared of them, of all things.

“…You saw me. And you did not flee nor did you call on other men for protection. Why?”

Io frowned. Not only did this beast speak, but he spoke well; probably more than Io did. “You speak better than I do. Why should I treat you like mindless vermin?”

Silence, for a few moments. Clearly the beast was not used to such kindness. Almost as a way to fill the silence, Io does something they would never do around anyone else; they pull down their hood.

Their face, sculpted out of slick black glass stares back; fashioned in the likeness of a lizard. The white fins that framed their face like petals, entirely out of place on something so harsh. The antennae, twitching and flicking in the air searching for things unknown.

“Besides, we are not so different.”

The beast takes another few steps forward this time, his feet silent in the muck. Io was expecting lumbering, heavy footsteps; but this thing moved like a housecat despite being a dozen times larger. And as he steps closer, Io could notice the long, stringy, kelpy mane of hair, that glowing eye which had first fixed its sight upon them. And the stitches holding his skin together at the joints. They’d seen that image almost everywhere they went, the same creature with a single yellow eye and kelp for hair scrawled with paint or a nail onto walls.

So the rumours were true.

“You are less gullible than most.”

Io's brow quirked at that comment. "Do you really take me be that sort of person?" They adjusted the grip on their crutches. "Whatever you expect me to believe about you is false." No man, however abominable, deserved to be reduced to a mere legend.

"No." "It is false." they notice the beast tense up, and they took a step back. "Does a mindless beast speak? Does a mindless beast think? You clearly have the intelligence, go figure that out yourself." This time, it was the creature that backed away. He expects simpering pity, he expects hostile terror. Not this. But when he opens his mouth further, Io was already turning away. "I have somewhere to get to. Try to keep yourself away from any prying eyes." And all that was left, then, was the uneven thud of their footfalls against the asphalt. And the creature does not dare give chase.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

NEW CHARACTER!!!!

Rather, my silly lil Frankenstein AU.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

That’s fair lol, I’m the inverse. I’m an avid furry, have several fursonas and am playing around with a Zootopia-esque story universe centered around furries, but I do not want a fursuit. Idk I think it might be cool but it doesn’t really appeal to me

I never understood the "I'm not a furry I just have a fursuit" people until now bc calling myself a furry feels Wrong since I don't actually enjoy most anthropomorphized animals at all and it's a very rare select few I enjoy, and I'd want a fursuit but still wouldn't be a furry with one bc I can't enjoy furry stuff most of the time 😭😭😭

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Art improvement with 314!!

3 months ago(March 3rd) vs yesterday!

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Messy 314 fullbody

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

He had a name. It wasn't his actual name, merely one of many alias given to him by fearful people. Siren, demon, seelie. The maneater of Bloor Canal. One would think that in a world where immortality was achievable with a few choice pieces of metal, miracle drugs and a whole lot of cash, people would have moved past believing in bogeymen and beasts.

They haven't.

Each day he swims the length of the canal in search of food and curiosity. The city told a story that could be viewed from underwater, different architecture of different eras blending into each other. Slate-grey, crumbling tenements giving way to sparkling white and pastel facets that looked almost like something out of heaven. The water became cleaner and clearer there too, the canal becoming less of a practical tool of trade, and more like a tourist's attraction. Happy families with happy children splashing in shallow water along the banks, unaware of what lurked ten, twenty meters below. He *could* swim up and drag the lot of them down to a watery demise. It would be an easy punishment for people who dared think themselves gods, snacking on pastries while everybody else collected in the sewage below. But he will not give them that satisfaction.

Today, as night began to fall he finds himself approaching the bridge that he(is forced to) call home. He was not visible from above the murky water; not until a building pressure in his lungs urges him to surface. He would've liked to stay under here forever; but his natural-unnatural anatomy said otherwise. That was when he saw it. That blurry, vaguely reptilian silhouette watching him with glowing eyes. Thinking it a mirage, a fleeting hallucination perhaps he blinks. A clawed, rotting hand coming up to rub at his eyes; the figure didn't disappear. There was no way that thing was human- and he has grown so used to being around hateful, fearful mankind that he is at a loss when he encounters one of his kind. And so, seemingly lacking any common sense he swam ashore, approaching the figure step by step. "...Hello?"

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Thank you, I really needed this^^

happy autism awareness day to all the girls who had “ friends” growing up who were actually bullying them . to the girls who always sat alone in the grass and wondered why nobody wanted to talk . to the girls who spoke to animals like they were listening . to the girls who created a little world in their room . to the girls who always felt ashamed for how deeply they love things and how passionately they enjoyed media . to the girls who covered their ears when they were overwhelmed by everything . to the girls who carrying a special thing around to feel safe . to the girls who never understood what they did wrong to feel so lonely . to the girls who were diagnosed later in life because they weren’t little boys who liked trains. you are so special and beautiful and you’re not worse for it, you love deeply and that is so wonderful please never try to push that down . I LOVE YOU !!!!!

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Just saw something on Pinterest or some other site that was like “turn hard books into easy books!” and it was some AI thing that broke down more grammatically complicated writing into ‘easy’ writing. And somebody in the comments was legit defending this shit by saying “oh I teach special needs and ESL kids, they will benefit from this and you’re ableist by criticizing it!”

Okay so. The problem is not simplified summaries of texts. As someone who has developmental disabilities and English as a second language, that isn’t the problem here. Reading simplified books before I progressed to the more complicated texts was how I learnt English. The problem is the fact that this is an AI system simply making “hard” writing “easy” without considering the meaning, the context like an actual human would. These “summaries” are draining all the meaning out of the text— and isn’t understanding and thinking about the meaning of the text, or what it’s trying to say on a subtextual level the point of reading? If someone is either cognitively unable to comprehend the text or is not fluent enough in English, they can read the text with annotations and explanations for any difficult words or expressions. They can read simplified summaries made by humans, who are able to change the language of the book in a way that still preserves meaning and context. Not something that’s “easy” to read at first but leaves nothing to think about or analyze after it’s read.

Do not use ableism to argue against criticisms of AI. It’s lazy and it’s dickish especially when you’re abled yourself.

[several-geese-in-a-trenchcoat]

Oh my god this. I will get overstimulated by big crowds and fire alarms but I will also blast pure overstimulation music in my headphones and be just vibing

Autism and loud noise