#Do like the blocky shadows of this

[weaverofink]

an eye for an eye.....

[poppyseed799]

Just remembered I technically have a Reddit account, cuz one time someone posted an art I made onto r/fnafcringe and I got a lot of hate for it, so I felt the need to make a throwaway account to defend myself cuz I was like 14 or something. idk if anyone responded to whatever I said cuz I never touched the account again after posting my response. I don’t remember the username or password.

[thecrownash]

im literally a decade late but i finally watched rebellion after finishing the show. can someone come give these poor girls a nap and a warm drink? maybe some therapy???

i experimented with shadows as ive been doing lately, i really like how big and blocky the shapes turned out. i found a method doing half tones and shadows all on one layer that i really enjoy, so im definitely gonna be using that more often in the future. I also did some nice spikey shapes trying to follow the simple lineart i did for the hair to make some fun highlights, and i def plan on using that more.

[meanbossart]

i just need to take a second to gush about how much i love durge drow and astarion, they feel so fleshed out and perfectly written together in their fucked up wretched ways. They really inspire me to write more for my own tavs, hopefully one day ill be able to say im as happy with my own work as i get when seeing yours. I have to ask though, do you have any tips on drawing head shapes and faces? or maybe about wrinkles? i find i really struggle with that stuff when drawing and i adore how expressive and grungey all your art looks!

First of all thank you so much, I love hearing what people think of the two of them together 😭

Honestly you've hit on something that's quite near and dear to my heart, I love developing and figuring how to draw and stylize different faces to get the most unique, interesting looking results - everything about the details is highly rewarding to me. What does x type of nose look like from this angle? In this style? How can this eyeshape best translate to my art? How different does a face look when its making this expression? What does that MOUTH DO? etc etc.

In fact you kind of inspired me to put a little tutorial/guide together the last hour lmao and what a blessing it is that the two current subjects of this blog serve as great models here, being that their faces are basically polar opposites!

When it comes to heads, you've probably heard it a dozen times before that you want to think of them in terms of geometry and facets; my process to drawing them is pretty conventional so I won't spend too much time on it, but it goes something like this:

Obviously I don't do every single one of these steps most of the time, which is just something that comes from practice/developing muscle memory, but it is helpful to start off this way for two main reasons:

By making these guide lines and splitting a head into pieces like this, you'll have an easier time seeing and understanding it as a multidimensional object, and in turn, facilitate It for you when you venture out into doing wacky angles and lighting.

Making different headshapes starts HERE. notice how Astarion's "face" slate is narrower and longer, how my durge's jaw pieces sit lower on the head, how all of the same pieces came together in the same way but we ended up with one real pointy elf and a real brick of a drow - making characters look different successfully begins very early in the sketching process.

The next thing you want to do branches out into every day life: start noticing yours and other people's facial features. How does an upturned nose look from a high angle? How does the size of someone's cheekbones affect what they look like when they smile? How about when the light hits them a certain way? Does someone's lip shape changes when they pout? When they laugh? How does a person's hairline change the shape of their face? You do NOT need to creepily sketch every stranger you see on the bus, but get into the habit of actually noticing what people look like when you talk to them - when you look at pictures, when you watch movies - make a mental list of interesting ways mouths, noses, and eyes can come together in a variety of different proportions to make completely distinct looking mugs, and how they change depending on how you are looking at them.

Light and shadow play a HUGE role in how faces look, too, basically as crucial as actual bone structure does. As you see up there I tried to rough out how natural, head on, and underhead light would look on these two very different looking guys, and while we can see definite patterns, there are small differences that come to be because of the sizes and shapes of their features.

Here is a very, very basic look at how some of these features come to look the way they do, how they interact with one another, and how they compare between a blocky, rather conventionally "masculine" head and one that's much softer and slimmer.

Note please that it is not one or two characteristics that give a chaarcter their "look"; you can reduce a face to eyes, mouth, and nose through stylization and still have them be recognizable, but if you want to do more than that, you have to consider the whole package! Chin, cheeks, brows, direction of the jaw, slope and size of the forehead, depth of eyes, ridge of the nose, etc - I know this is probably far more than you bargained for, but if you start making note of a FEW of these things now and slowly add on, this will eventually become second nature to you.

Similarly, understanding how these characteristics come together will help you with rendering light and shadow in a realistic way, and predicting what their facial expressions may look like - if no two people are alike, neither are their smiles. :)

Lastly, remember that I'm no expert - I have developed my own methods and semiotics and yours may look slightly (or vastly) different, and that's fine! I hope only that by sharing this it has given you a base to work off of.

Anyways, I HOPE this has been helpful and not just the unsolicited ramblings of a face pervert.

[greenroze2]

your rendering is so good how do you do it

Thanks, I love your rendering too!! Gonna try and make a tutorial ^^

To start off, I'm on Clip Studio Paint and these are the brushes I use! First two for rendering characters (round brushes) and the other two for mostly backgrounds (square brushes)

I used to do lineart, but it takes too long >:( now I just make a sketch and sorta clean it up!

Next I fill it in with a gray color. For simpler pieces I just put in the flat colors, but for more paint-y pieces I do grayscale -> color! I'll be doing that here :)

Also, I make 3 clipped layers on top of the gray - two are multiply, and the top one is screen. On the first multiply, I do a soft gradient using an airbrush

On the next multiply layer, I fill everything in with either a cool-ish or warm-ish gray, depending on the mood ^^

I also determine a light source, and use the lasso tool on the screen layer to block out where (I think) the light hits! Tbh I just do wherever feels right lmao, but I recommend having a reference! I like doing it in triangle patterns

Then adjust the opacity of each layer to whatever feels right, and merge everything (I don't merge the sketch/lineart yet, I do it before adding colors in!)

Now... rendering. Some tips I have are color pick (greys) off of the canvas and use them to paint! Clean up the sketch more, erase edges, but I save details (like Galaxia's red gem, his eyes, etc.) for the end, or during coloring.

After I'm sorta happy with it, I merge the sketch layer, then duplicate it, and add a gradient map! I did this sunset-y one but changed the hue to yellow-ish, then lowered the layer's opacity ^^

Play around with the hue-saturation-luminosity setting!

Now go crazy with blending modes! Multiply, overlay, color, glow/color dodge, etc. Feel free to layer them up on top of each other too, and this is to add the character/piece's actual colors in. For example, I used a white-blueish overlay layer for his mask and glove, blue for his cape, blah blah

Now I clean the sketch up/refine it more. Also, to "harmonize" the color palette, you can add a colored gradient on top. Then set it to multiply, and add overlay/glow dodge layers with any colors you see fit! I like using teal and light/warm orange! Here is an example of a colored gradient:

Another tip is to add saturated colors on the edges of both lighting and darker shadows, before blending it:

Also I usually add in a light blue/grey in shadowy areas, and lower the opacity for reflective light:

Also! You can lasso + use an airbush with a light blue to block out parts of the background (his cape here, for example). It helps with more depth!

Finally, I like adding sparkles on low opacity :3 And gaussian blur to certain areas! I'm using radial blur on this piece though ^^

For the background, I like doing blocky shapes!! I use my square brush on 90% ish opacity, to color pick different hues from the piece. For lighting I use a glow dodge layer, here's a mini timelapse as well as the finished art!

At the very end, play around with the hue/saturation and contrast tools to change the colors :)

[sanctus-ingenium]

Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.

[sm64mario]

"Mario! Thank goodness you're here!" The Toad exclaimed, hopping in place with a perpetual grin. "I was getting so nervous, sitting alone by myself in this corner here! I mean, it's all I ever do, but usually MIPS hops by to say hello every now and then, and I haven't seen him!"

"I'a tell you, Toad, there'a some pretty strange shenanigans'a happening around here, lately! Don'ta worry, Mario'a gonna handle it just'a like he'a handle Bowser!" The portly protagonist pat his chest with his blocky fist, doing his best to assure Toad that he wasn't scared.

"I should tell you, I've been seeing weird shadows dancing along my vision every now and then. And I heard a loud voice coming from the hallway with the Star Door! AND I lost my toothbrush this morning, so I had to resort to breathmints! I'm kinda freaking out, Mario!"

Mario put his hand to his chin, pantomiming thought. Toad's a great friend and a capable ally with info, but Mario was more than used to his solo adventure by now. The Star Door... the one by Dire Dire Docks? That could also be worth investigating. This was starting to seem kind of fun!

[fanfoolishness]

Patching Up

After the events of The Return, Crosshair realizes Batcher's in need of patching up. It turns out she's not the only one.

Spoilers for 3x05 The Return and 2x12 The Outpost, Crosshair, Batcher, and Hunter, angst and family feels. <3 2770 words.

-

It was well before sunrise when the Remora arrived back to Pabu.  Crosshair shook off the nap he’d settled into and got to his feet for landing, tucking his helmet beneath his arm.  On the bunk across the way, Omega and Batcher lay snoring, curled up together.  He smiled faintly at the sight.  

“Come on, kid,” Wrecker said softly, scooping Omega into his arms.  She yawned, wrapping her arms around his neck, but still kept her eyes firmly squeezed shut.  “Let’s get you to bed.”  

Crosshair watched them go.  He had the sense that this was something that had happened many times before; Omega small and sleepy, Wrecker there to carry her to bed.  It had looked like such a familiar action for them both.  Something in him panged at the thought.

There was a small boof noise beside him.  He glanced down in time to see Batcher nudge his hand with her muzzle, wagging her tiny tail as she eased into a vast stretch.  He patted her nose obligingly.  It was the least he could do.

He passed Hunter and Echo, deep in conversation still in the cockpit, and made his way back out into the predawn air beneath the glinting stars and swinging moon.  He took a deep breath of the fresh ocean breeze.  He was still getting used to it, the taste and smell of the clean sea air so different from Tantiss’ stale recycled scent.  His hand flinched, and he jammed his hand against his leg, willing it to still.

He clicked under his tongue for Batcher, but she didn’t attend.  He turned around.  She was sitting on the ground several feet away in an awkward pose, chewing aggressively at one of her front paws.  He clicked his tongue again, and she came this time, clearly limping.  

“What have you gotten into?” Crosshair asked, concerned.  She sat down beside him, then immediately turned to lick at her other front paw.  “Uh-uh,” he said firmly, and she stopped to give him a guilty look.

He sighed under his breath, then made up his mind.  “Stay here.”  He headed back into the ship, interrupting Echo and Hunter and their poring over the data retrieved from the datapad.  “I need a medpac.  I think the hound is wounded.  Nothing serious, but I can check her over.”

Echo nodded.  “Of course.  Back near the bunks, third crate.”

“AZI might be able to take a look at her, too,” said Hunter.  “You could ask him --”

“The medpac will do,” said Crosshair shortly.  I’m sure AZI could look at your hand for you…  No.  He didn’t need the droid for this.  

Crosshair followed Echo’s instructions, collecting a kit with basic supplies.  He left out the diagnostic scanner -- he doubted it had been calibrated to lurca hounds -- but took the bandage materials, hyposprays and splints, wondering if he would need to make a human wrist splint work for the hound’s blocky leg.  

He headed back outside… and the damn hound was gone.

Of course.  Try to help the creature, and it had taken off.  He scanned the mesa for movement beneath the stars and the solar lamps, eyes flicking across the landscape, but came up short; only a few moon-yos scampered across the ground, their dark shadows clear in the dim light.  He put his helmet on, toggling on thermal vision.  Ah.  A chunky heat signature was nudging open the gate at the little house they’d been taking meals at.  She was nothing if not predictable.  

He caught up with her in a few minutes, closing the gate quietly behind him.  Batcher was laying down, curled up defensively, chewing at her feet again with an appalling licking sound.  He set down his helmet on the table and slowly approached.

“Stop that,” said Crosshair evenly.  “You’ll only make it worse.”  He knelt beside her with the medical supplies and she hunkered into herself, giving him a wary expression.  He gave her a skeptical look, then averted his gaze until she relaxed again.  “Don’t bite me.”

She licked his face instead, and he scrubbed off the saliva vigorously with his gloved hand.  “No.”  She sat there panting, looking perfectly pleased with herself.  He reached for the closest paw, tugging it out from beneath her.  She tensed, but let him turn her paw over.  

Even in the starlight and lamplight, it was easy to see the issue; while her paws didn’t seem to be swollen and nothing felt broken, her pads were scraped raw, swollen and dotted with specks of beading blood.  Carefully he checked them all.  The front left was the worst, with a thick slice of skin hanging torn from the edge of the pad, but all were affected in some way.  The sight pained him.

“The ice,” he murmured.  “You weren’t made for it.”  She whined, laying down and pulling her paw away from him.  Of course a beast meant to survive the jungles around Tantiss wouldn’t have the protection against the cold needed for Barton IV.

He and Mayday hadn’t, either.

The bitter wind shearing his exposed face, fingers locked and frozen around the Firepuncher, desperately dragging Mayday closer to keep him warm --

Crosshair shook the memory off and took a packet of numbing gel out of the medpac, rubbing it cautiously on the paw with the lacerated pad.  She tolerated it surprisingly well.  He wasn’t sure how she’d take the next step, though.

He pulled out the sterilization spray canister and affixed it to the hypospray, but hesitated before using it.  He knew from experience in the field that it stung like a wyyyschokk’s bite, even if it was effective.  He had reluctantly accepted that Batcher liked him -- he couldn’t fathom why -- but he was skeptical of her ability to not bite him while using it.

He sighed.  Omega talked to the hound constantly, and she did seem to understand much of what Omega said to her.  Perhaps it was worth a try.  Might distract the beast, anyway.

“Hold still.  This’ll sting, but it helps.”  Batcher let him take her paw in his hands, but jerked it away as the mist settled onto the torn surface of the pad.  Crosshair rolled his eyes.  “What did I just say?  The wounds need cleaning.  I know it stings, but it’s temporary.”  He tried to take her paw again, and she let him do it, though her beady eyes stared warily at him.  

“There,” he said, spraying the paw.  This time she let him hold it under the full duration of the spray, though she anxiously licked his face several times.  He blinked, but kept going until he had treated all four paws, the saliva drying sticky on his face.  “Good.”  She wagged her tail.

He reached for the bandages, but frowned.  They were all pre-cut, in shapes that wouldn’t fit the irregularities of Batcher’s huge paws.  He rummaged around in the medpac, coming out with a sealant spray instead.

“We should have checked your feet after the mission,” Crosshair muttered to the hound, taking up one of her back paws and applying a thin layer of sealant.  She trembled but let him do it.  

He thought of the time Hunter had hidden a poisonous bite on some backwater world in the midst of one of their first field missions, and had nearly passed out in a field of battle droids before Tech had been able to render emergency first aid.  They’d yelled at him for ten minutes solid after the battle, furious and scared both.  His mouth quirked to one side at the memory, the squabbling, the relief.  

“Feeling better?”

She looked up at him, whimpering.  

“Not yet?  Hm.”  He reached for her next paw, shaking his head.  “That ice…  It’s brutal.”

She woofed softly, almost in agreement, as he worked on her foot.  “At least it wasn’t a blizzard,” he said.  He went very still except for his hand, which trembled against her paw.  “Mayday never had a chance.”

Batcher rumbled, rolling away from him onto her back, scratching herself on the patio floor.  She rolled back up to her side and sniffed the air, looking alert and attentive, before nudging his arm with the great crest on her head.  

“He saved my life, you know.”  He finished with the second back paw, moving to the less severely affected front paw.  The words dripped out of him, slow and difficult to speak but just as difficult to stop, now that he’d started.  “I stepped on a pressure mine.  I’d have been killed.  He could have gone on without me.”  He paused.  It was suddenly hard to breathe, despite the clean ocean air surrounding them.  He scanned the sky above him, making out the lightening of the coming dawn. 

What unit were you with?  A simple question.  One he’d heard regs ask each other a thousand times.  It was the first time one had ever asked him.

It doesn’t matter.  (Except it did.  It always had.)

Humor me.  I could use the distraction.  

Clone Force 99.  He’d been frozen, not with the cold, not even with the threat of certain death.  Answering the question had been somehow more difficult than standing perfectly still.

What happened to them?  

They’re… gone.  It had felt like a lie even as he said it.  Were they gone?

Was he?

Crosshair shivered, coming back to himself.  “It never occurred to him to leave a man behind.  Even though I told him I’d leave him in a heartbeat.”  He reached out, scratching Batcher on the spot on her neck she liked.  She leaned into it, tail wagging furiously.  Short spiky blue-gray hair clung to his glove, poking uncomfortably in spots through the fabric, but he only scratched harder.  

He finished the third paw.  “Almost done.  Worst for last.”  She wiggled away, panting, but he fixed her with a sharp look.  “Give it.”  He took the last paw, the one with the deep tear, and hoped the numbing gel had done its work.  He pulled out a vial of tissue glue.  Batcher sniffed it and growled.  “It’s this or a bandage.  Trust me, you’ll prefer this.”  

He carefully daubed the glue at the edges of the torn pad, hoping it would take.  She’d be less irritated if the torn pad could cover the wound, and there was a chance it could reattach and heal more quickly that way.  He wished they’d found it earlier; the edges of the pad were extra dry, and he wasn’t sure if they were still vital or not.  

Well, he’d have to keep checking it.  This would do for now.

Batcher sat quietly, only fidgeting a little.  Around them, the sky continued lightening, hints of color -- gold and orange -- starting up on the horizon.  Birds began to stir.  Focused on the wound, Crosshair found himself talking again.

“We were trapped in an avalanche,” he murmured.  “Mayday shoved me out of the way… saved me again.  I tried to save him.”  

He’d tried.  Oh, how he’d tried.  For a moment the gentle cool air of Pabu was a raging blizzard, the gold-edged sky a flare of blue-white mist.  The chill sank into his bones, and he shivered again, trying to hold her paw steady.  Even now he could only half-remember the terrible journey back to the outpost, the day and night of vicious, unending cold, Mayday heavy and wounded against him.  His breath came too fast, his chest searing.

“I couldn’t,” he whispered.  “I didn’t.”  He hung his head, dropping the hound’s patched-up paw, and rested his hand on her shoulder.

His neck prickled.  It’s about knowing when you’ve got eyes on you.  His shoulders slumped, and without turning around, he raised his voice.  “How long have you been there?”

Hunter’s voice, expected, familiar.  Of course.  “... a few minutes.”

“Still spying on me?” Crosshair asked, but without any real venom.  He didn’t have it in him, not after the fight with the ice wyrm, not after their talk earlier.  He heard the gate open behind him, and Hunter’s quiet footsteps approached closer until his brother sat down beside him.

“Not intentionally,” said Hunter, shrugging.  “Echo will be heading out soon.  Figured I’d come back here to get some sleep.”  He nodded to the hound, stretching out his hand.  “Everything all right?”  Batcher sniffed his hand, then licked it enthusiastically.  Hunter scratched her chin.

“The hound should be fine,” Crosshair said.  “Hurt her paws on the ice.”

“Omega will be glad you fixed her up,” Hunter said.  “You and Tech were always handiest with the medpacs.”

Crosshair sniffed.  “Except Tech actually knew what he was doing.”  They both fell quiet.  Tech always knew what he was doing.  Until --

He only knew the barest details of what happened.  He still wasn’t sure he would ever be able to ask for more, not when every mention of his brother still made his gut clench.  The birdsong swelled around them as the sky blushed gold, and he and Hunter sat with the silence, with the missing space.  

The quiet stretched, weighing on both of them.  Crosshair knew he could say nothing.  Could pretend Hunter hadn’t snuck up on him, could assume he hadn’t heard a thing about what he’d muttered to the hound, could get up and go inside and grab some sleep.  But he had to know.  

“What did you hear?” Crosshair asked quietly, looking down at his hands, at the tremor starting.  He slid his right hand behind him, where Hunter couldn’t see.

Hunter looked away.  He hadn’t seen.  Had he?  “Back at the outpost, I saw you with those helmets.  I wondered.  This Mayday… was he one of them?”

“Commander Mayday,” Crosshair said automatically.  It was important to say it.

“You lost him.”  It wasn’t a question.  Crosshair braced for it, the look of judgment, the disapproval.  But Hunter turned his gaze back to him, his dark eyes merely thoughtful. 

“It didn’t have to be that way.”  It was too painful to explain the cruelty of it all to Hunter, the guarded crates, the men’s patched armor, their loyalty discarded like another broken piece of equipment, the hiss of “clone.”  He didn’t try.  He just reached out and petted Batcher again, his hand shaking against her fur.  He hoped Hunter wouldn’t notice.  “He was a good soldier.  I tried to --”  He let out a long breath, ducking his head.  “I did everything I could.  The lieutenant could have helped him.  But he wasn’t worth the resources.”  Hatred burned the back of his throat with the word.

Hunter nodded, reaching up to clasp his shoulder.  Crosshair closed his eyes, the weight of his brother’s hand on his shoulder both utterly alien, and yet as natural as breathing.  He leaned into it, and Hunter’s hand was steady, solid, trusting.

For a moment, it felt like the old days.

He looked back at Hunter, and his brother’s face softened, a flicker of sadness shifting through his eyes like a passing shadow.  “I know this isn’t easy.  Talking’s not --”

“My strong suit?” Crosshair cracked, managing a short huff of a laugh.  “Mhm.”  It had come easier than he’d thought it would, though.  Something in his chest seemed to have loosened, like he could breathe more freely.

Hunter chuckled.  “Right.  Not always mine, either.  But hey.  We managed not to kill each other out there.”  

“True.”

He dropped his hand from Crosshair’s shoulder, reaching out and petting Batcher, who had curled up and falling asleep.  She kicked her foot contentedly as he scratched.  His voice was rough.  “I wish things had been different.  For Commander Mayday.  For all of us.”

Crosshair nodded slowly.  There were too many things to count -- Tantiss, Tech, Barton IV.  Further back, Desix, Kamino, Bracca, Kaller.  He could take none of it back.  

The only path remaining was forward.  

Crosshair clambered to his feet, reaching down and giving Hunter a hand.  Hunter took it without a beat, letting himself be helped up.  

“Come on,” Crosshair said, squinting into the dawn.  “It’s late.”

“Early.”

“Whatever.”

Hunter laughed.  “All right then.  Coming?” he asked the hound.  Batcher rolled up to her feet, frisking around them, no sign now of a limp.  “Looks like you did good work.”

Crosshair watched her prance, painless and happy.  “Just doing my part,” he said.  She nuzzled his hand, then bounded toward the building, sitting patiently by the door.  He crossed the yard to join her, passing Hunter.

“Crosshair?”

“Yes?”  

“It’s good to have you back.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, but more warmly than usual.  The door opened for him, and Crosshair stepped inside, a half-smile tugging at his face.  

It was good to be back.

[lovelyrotter]

okay but i actually kinda wanna know ur take on stridercest being canon compliant O_O <- autism stare

oh hey i am also hitting you with the autism stare. ill try to get my thoughts down in a way that makes sense to more than just me hahaha

bear in mind that im an epilogue lover and i think Meat/Candy are really valuable pieces that further all of the characters and are also hard canon in the sense that we're looking at just 2 post-game universe outcomes out of an uncountable number (the book in the picnic basket representing post-canon fanfic). i think the characters actions in the epilogues make sense and are satisfying to me. yes even jane (i love alpha jane and i will not do her the disservice of 'cleaning her up' w/o showing her work for it. thats not how you depict a character who grew up with fascist programming). i could totally go on a whole tangent about this specifically but thats another post lol we'd be here forever and its also not stridercest

but okay. canon stridercest. under the cut cause it got kinda long

basically it has to do with the cherubs and how their relationships and mating rituals are pretty obviously incestuous leaning even though cherubs dont have the human concept of Siblings or blood family. the cherub who predominates will search across paradox space to mate with another cherub who closely resembles the cherub they predominated which is like textbook Freudian sexuality. theres a lot of Freud and Jungian stuff in HS imo even if im kinda [wobbly hand gesture] at the validity of these theories applied to real life and real people. but theyre super fun tools and lenses to use in fiction and i mean. gestures at all of dave

so the incest aliens cherubs. the whole reason why im talkin about them is bc Caliborn is so incredibly interested and invested in the Striders in particular. caliborn as both Lord English and Lil Cal shapes earth NOT OVERTLY but more so embeds himself in earth society, but again, the Striders lives in particular. dave is full of incest jokes. hes even apparently got a list of his friends arranged in order of how likely theyd incest-elope with each other (thank you epilogues for this amazing factoid). he seems to think about it often enough to, yknow, Do That. have a good solid think about that and construct an organized list about it. bearing in mind dave makes jokes about stuff thats a) bothering him, or b) generally camping out in his brain. hes not even really aware of it most of the time (as we see in one of the openbounds where hes all 'why am i thinking about puppets???' after seeing dirk for the first time in that dream bubble. he is thinking nonstop about dirk at that point and going off his only frame of reference for ANY dirk, which is his bro. his bro who was most likely deeply warped by Lil Cal)

sorry for the long blocky paragraph lol. but now onto the next thing

Caliborn as Lil Cal is the centerpiece in the beta strider apartment. dave cant escape him and beta dirk grew up with him. what the fuck do you do when youre childhood comfort item is also the most evil creature across all of paradox space? if youre a dirk you try to fight it. but how long can you keep fighting something like that. its safe to say that bro was affected by Caliborns particular brand of perversion and sfw kink. i dont think i have to say how insidious abusive and toxic he is about those things. and looking at the truth of beta bro (16yo alpha dirk) you can start to see just how warped beta bro became. beta bro is a false dirk (still a very Real dirk but not the Truth of dirk. beta bro has been toxified and made infinitely worse by an absolute evil influence over decades of life. in 80s fuckin texas. presumably in the system. anyone would be fucked up after that)

so for this analysis/theory im stating beta bro as a false persona. using jungian terms he is apha dirk's shadow

both dave and dirk live with a fake, carefully manicured version of their bros. they live with personas (or shadows of their guardians on the walls. hello platos allegory of the cave). they dont actually know e/o and they dont until the striunion

alpha dirk especially grows up embedded in the Public Persona Of Dave Strider 400 years post mortem and completely alone with unlimited internet access. hes a self admitted expert on his bro and we dont get to see a lot if any of his early childhood but i can hazard a guess at how much he clung to that persona of his bro. he fuckin idolizes dave. he LOVES dave. right off the bat he is in some kind of love with dave and i think if you try to argue against that then thats you slippin. i think youre a fool and have to reread homestuck because i wholeheartedly believe the striders loving eachother is part of the win state

once again this is speculation cause we get barely anything about alpha dave, but from what we already know about him im guessing this bro-persona is

achingly effortlessly cool

oozing masculinity (toxic or not, not really interested in categorizing that although toxic coolboy masculinity IS something the striders contend with & is an important facet in their lives)

a skilled fighter

a dedicated moviegoer (hes a director need i say more. this one is probably the only genuine thing about his on-screen persona)

and now lets look at jake. someone whos grown up on pretty much nothing but movies, whos doubtlessly been influenced by hollywood and its idea of gritty 'main character' masculinity through that, and who also clings to more old-school ideas of manliness (think victorian/edwardian era gentlemanly-but-loves-a-good-scrum kinda manly. moustache twirly with a monocle kinda manly. basically everything that grandpa harley is)

but okay lets look at what jake wants to be. lets take a look at his teenager persona

achingly effortlessly cool (his own 'hollywood star' kind of cool also def influenced by his favourite characters like lara croft who is indeed achingly cool. you see him succeed in inhabiting this hollywood star persona on earth c)

oozing masculinity (the old school manly mans-man kind)

a skilled fighter (two pistoles always. harder to aim cause you cant use a free hand to make up for kickback. that takes skill)

a dedicated moviegoer (again one of the only genuine parts about his persona. his questionable-to-wretched tastes aside. but bearing in mind that the SBaHJ movies are intentionally bad which is what makes them loop around to good. such is the nature of intentionally 'bad' art. jake fuckin lives in this perpetual bad-good art loop. okay enough with the art tangent keep focused man cmon)

because dirk has obviously way more contact with jake i dont doubt he sees through jakes own (admittedly way more flimsy) coolboy persona but the point still stands i think. different flavours but the same kinda guy. dirk has a type and i dont think its a stretch to say that hes looking for aspects of the bro-persona he grew up looking at in other boys, much like the winning cherub looking for the one they lost in the cherub theyll mate with

also wtf is with dirks obvious boner for dave chasing him across paradox space to decapitate him huh?? the last few sentences in Meat are about that very thing. he wants to fuc fight dave sooo bad. haha remember how the cherubic mating ritual is one of the most violent and long running spectacles in paradox space? i sure do

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

new year SR groovies!!

Please note: Rook and Trey’s New Year Attire groovies are still locked. Those illustrations will be released after their banners end.

***Jade and Ortho’s New Year Attire groovies are below the cut!!***

Oooh, their groovies are more on the cute, subdued side! There’s a lot of blue in both, so it feels oddly calming looking at them.

Ortho looks like he’s concentrating very hard trying to fit that rope onto his spinning top. Maybe he’s thinking about the best strategy for it??

The detail I like the best here is his big ol’ blocky sleeve 😂 In an outfit that doesn’t have a lot of folds (on account of being metal), I appreciate the attempt to simulate them. Seeing the “folds” from this angle makes me appreciate his outfit even more!

As for J word lmao is he tipping his fedora and going, “m’lady”/j 🫠 Mmm, well. This isn’t my favorite groovy of his, but it’s not bad! I would say this is one of his more genuine smiles, since he’s showing his teeth (something he self admits to not liking to do often; in his Halloween vignettes Jade states, “I would be too embarrassed to open my mouth wide while everyone else was watching.”) Perhaps it’s because he gets to amuse himself with a game, or because he finally got his hands on that rope for his mountain expeditions (Silver gifted some to him in Jade’s Union birthday vignettes).

What I like best about Jade’s groovy is the strong sunlight shining down on him. It really helps to accent the colors of his New Year Attire, especially the fade on his scarf. He also seems a little older than usual in the artwork, maybe because of the slight crease under one eye, created by the angle and the shadows.

[justladders]

Dumb question? I was looking at the one picture of Springtrap based on the Ursula reference, and I noticed that the shading on his head is more blended compared to the shade on his arms. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I was wondering when you know to make harsh vs soft shadows? If that makes sense?

That's not a dumb question! I'm just surprised anyone asked me bc I normally treat shading like an afterthought and need to work on it more. Sometimes I do it one way or the other just because I feel like it, but thinking about it more critically, hard vs. soft shading can be for a lot of different reasons.

Shading gives things depth. You can tell pretty clearly by the unshaded ball below, which can just seem like a flat circle on the page compared to the two with shading.

With the contrast created from shadows and lighting, shading becomes very important to the "feeling" of a piece. Hard shading can feel very stark, especially with darker shadows, and make a clear focal point or clearly mark hard edges. Soft shading can feel gentle and accentuate more rounded surfaces or a gradual fade of the light source. This certainly isn't all that hard and soft shading are used for, but these are examples of why you may choose one or the other.

At the same time, it can simply be a stylistic choice. Think of the cell shading in something like LoZ: Wind Waker; that type of lighting is made to compliment the very big, blocky, shapey style of the game. In old cartoons, they would almost exclusively use solid shadows because they would be hand-drawn onto the characters for every frame. There's styles that use hatching or stippling to create shadows. You can pick a certain way for many reasons.

And you're not even limited to just one kind. Klaus 2019. Beautiful movie. They went crazy with it fr, and made use of a lot of soft light and blended hard-lighting and ougghhhhhhh 👌 You could literally watch that movie with the sound off and enjoy it just as much.

The main way to figure it out is by looking at how other styles/artists that you take inspiration from do it, and then try some different ways out for yourself. You really learn to get a feel for it with practice.

[star-going-supernova]

Prompt idea

Cassie finds another mask. A mask that is a relic of the past. The Puppet mask.

Friends on the Other Side

Cassie felt like she’d been slowly going crazy all night. It’d started with the sensation of being watched. Little touches to her shoulders and wrists followed, quick and chilly. Then there had been the whispers, so quiet she had almost missed them at times. This way, and not there, and run! And most recently, it was flickers of movement, always right at the edge of her sight, there and gone by the time she’d whipped her head around to look. 

As helpful as some of that was, it all left her jumping at her own shadow and wary of every little creak. 

She wondered if the inexplicable assistance had something to do with the weird bunny mask and the ominous glitchy rabbit that absolutely had it out for her. Maybe it really had done something to her head. 

As Cassie carefully crept down a dark hallway, her attention was drawn to a flickering light from inside one of the many rooms in the basement. It was rhythmic, in a way. Intentional. 

She hesitated. 

Go inside, the distant voice seemed to whisper eagerly. It’s safe, go, go, go. 

Humming nervously, Cassie carefully peeked around the ajar door. Other than some boxes, the room was empty. Just another of the dozens of storage rooms full of junk. She slipped inside anyway, goosebumps raising along her arms. The light stopped flickering when she did, staying on bright and steady overhead. 

She turned in a circle, but nothing of interest stood out. She rubbed her arms, sighed, and took a step back toward the door.

Something clattered behind her, incredibly loud in the thick silence. Cassie gasped sharply and whirled around, ready to run.

But she was still alone. 

Her eyes slowly trailed down to the floor—to a mask.

A faint nudge to the center of her back propelled her forward to pick it up. Cassie flipped it over in her hands. It was porcelain and cold to the touch, dirty enough that it almost wasn’t white anymore, and had black mesh stretched behind its wide, grinning mouth. 

It was such a fake smile, she thought. It looked more like its mouth was just open, rather than smiling happily. 

Thick purple lines fell from the narrowed eye slits like bizarre tear tracks, and its lips—a generous name for two blocky red shapes bracketing the top and bottom of the mouth—and similarly red cheeks were separate pieces glued on, not painted.

It was slightly less disturbing than the bug-eyed rabbit mask, but only by a little. 

Put it on, the voice whispered, so faint she was tempted to ignore it. 

She hadn’t come this far to be a scaredy-cat now, though. The back of this new mask was plain and smooth, not covered in tech, so unsurprisingly, there was no change to her vision, no distortions, no fizzy feeling in her brain. 

But there was, however, a girl. Standing right in front of her, watching her with fully white eyes.

Cassie yelped, nearly dropping the mask as she stumbled back. 

The girl held her hands out in a rush and cried, “Wait, wait, it’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you!” 

Cassie lowered the mask, and the girl disappeared. Raised it, and the girl was back. “What—how are you—you just—!”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” the girl hastily continued as Cassie stammered. “But I just…” She sighed and jammed her hands into her hoodie pocket. “I couldn’t pass this chance up.” 

Cassie made a distressed noise. This was so much weirder than the glitchy rabbit. “Are you real?” she asked. 

“I mean… kinda?” 

“Kinda? What does that even—” With the worst of her shock behind her, Cassie was able to actually think for a second. The whispers, the touches… “Are you… a ghost?” 

The girl bit her lip and nodded. 

“Oh.” 

“My name’s Charlie,” the girl offered.

“I’m Cassie,” Cassie replied faintly. “You’ve, uh, been helping me, then? The whispers and stuff?” 

Charlie perked up. “Yeah, that was all me! But look, you’ve really got to leave this place.” 

“I can’t, I—my friend is trapped, and he needs my help.” 

“That’s the thing,” Charlie said, coming closer. The lightbulb flickered a bit, and Cassie shivered. “He’s really not.” She nodded at the walkie talkie sticking out of Cassie’s pocket. “The person talking to you? That’s not your friend.” 

She looked down at the walkie talkie, then back up at Charlie. She nibbled her lip, uncertain. “Then who is it?”

A chorus of faint whispers pressed in around Cassie, and Charlie’s white eyes seemed to brighten. “It’s a long story,” she warned her. 

Cassie pointedly took a seat on the floor, her back against some boxes. Charlie followed her lead after a moment. 

“It’s not a happy story,” Charlie warned her, solemn. For a moment, in the flickering light, her face looked smeared with blood. “And it begins with a monster.” 

[averageludwig]

tips to draw the mercs please? demo esp hes SO BEAUTIFUL

THIS IS SUCH A LATE REPLY,, sorryyy some reqs get completely buried sometimes... I can't go on a full blown tutorial for all the 9 mercs BUT I can give some tips in bullets cuz I am a lazy fuck! hope this helps :p

🕸️ For practice, Try adding guidelines to the mercs faces to get a sense of distance between and placement of every feature!

🕸️ No matter what style you draw in, You can always mostly capture the Mercs' likeness by keeping the shapes true to the models!

🕸️ I recommend using the game models as reference when it comes to the face. Its WAY more consistent and more recognizable than the comics (different artists and such!)

🕸️ Some Demo specific points are; - Color pick his skin tone from a model, avoid directly picking from where the light source lands on his face! somewhere between the light and shadow should be his exact skin tone! - His hair appears appears to be either 4c or 4b in his hats off cosmetic! Its very thick and coily so make sure not to give him wavy or curly hair. use references of 4c/4b hair!

🕸️ When it comes to simplifying the shapes in any of the Mercs' face, Use blocky shapes then smooth them out! curves and circles usually have to many details to start. stick with cuboids, you can always make them irregular :)

🕸️ Try practice-tracing over models! a fun activity that I used to do (Which I should definitely get back to) Is tracing over SFM screenshots! It will help you understand how each of their faces move with different expressions ! try to keep it blocky as well when you trace, Not just blindly trace over every curve (to understand the angles of their face)

🕸️ For bodies, Use a lot of reference. All the Mercs' have very diverse and unique body types, Take your time studying them. Practice on references of similar real bodies. (pinterest has a lot of those)

🕸️ The more you draw the mercs the more you get used to stylizing them whilst keeping them recognizable! take your time :3

Okay I will stop ranting now... hope... this helps....

[rotworld]

1: Pit Stop

welcome to the drift, where nothing is as it seems. you're heading north but first you need to stop for gas.

->contains gore, hand trauma, amputation, general creepy behavior.

.

.

.

The shift came sometime in the night. If you had been awake then, you would’ve felt it. The wind was itchy and the sky wound itself up in knots. There was the distinct odor of newness, like the whole world was a cramped, cobwebbed attic and someone had just yanked the door open. In poured the incomprehensible outsideness, and all the frightened things that lived inside cowered instinctively. Some people swear they can hear reality crack apart, the brittle and alarming krikrikrik of a frozen lake shattering in slow motion underfoot but from everywhere at once, but that’s probably just a myth. If shifts sounded like anything, you think, they wouldn’t sound like that.

In the morning, your lungs are sore. You keep having this nightmare where you can’t remember how to breathe. Something fluttered in the dark. Something dragged its cold fingers up your spine. You wake up on the floor, your throat feeling blistered and wrung out. The sun isn’t up yet. The shadows in the room are thick. 

“I tried to wake you,” the woman leaning in the doorway says. “You’re the last one up.” She has short hair, you think, a hat rounding her silhouette. Her eyes are shimmery, robin’s egg blue flecked with sunrise pastels like opals. You shouldn’t be able to see them so clearly in the dark.  “Eggs for breakfast,” she says. “How do you like yours?”

“Plain, thanks.” Your voice is hoarse, thick with sleep. She’s gone when you look again. 

By the time you’ve showered, dressed and dragged downstairs, the sky is a lighter gray. The stairs creak under your boots, carpet transitioning abruptly to hardwood flooring. The coffee shop on the first floor isn’t open yet but the owner has flicked on the string lights dangling by the front windows and set a basket of eggs on the register counter, so fresh the shells are still tinged green. A laminated card propped against the basket displays a hand and a box hovering above the open palm, stylized in the blocky minimalism of a road sign; the symbol for couriers. A larger version of the same sign is plastered at the front of the shop, right in the corner of the door. You snag a few eggs as you wander over to the other couriers, all huddled around a table too small for the four of them. The woman with opal eyes pulls up another chair for you, wedging it in next to hers. 

“Morning,” she says. You see her more clearly now, flannel sleeves rolled up to her elbows with a striped shirt beneath. Her hair is brown and jutting out from her beanie stiff like straw. A misshapen chunk of stone hangs from a cord around her neck, pitted on all sides with tiny holes. She bites into the tapered end of an egg, a burst of thick red jelly oozing between her teeth as she crunches through the shell. “You sleep like shit during shifts, too?” 

“Not just during shifts,” you admit, rummaging through your backpack for pencil and paper. They make room for you on the table, nudging their notebooks and sketchpads closer to their laps. You’re in Henley Creek so that’s where you start, a cluster of landmarks sketched in the center of the paper with the town name underneath. “Where are you from? And where are you going?” you ask.

“Prismville. Feels due north of here, not close but not too far. Might be a town between. Ever been?” She smiles when you shake your head. “Make a trip sometime. Tell ‘em Kell sent you. They’re good to couriers, they’ll treat you right.” She tilts her notebook towards you and lets you see what she’s drawn, a handful of disembodied ink scribbles floating across the page. It’s an unlucky map. Prismville is the closest town and there’s a gulf of blank space between here and there. She’s marked it with a prickly shape, not quite a star. Everything else is too far to reach before the next shift. “I’m headed to the University if I can figure out where it is,” she adds.

“It might be east of us,” the man on her other side says, scratching his stubble with the end of his pen. He doodles while he talks, adding embellishments to the margins of his map. Headstones. Moths and mountain lions. A spider with too many legs. “It’s usually out east, isn’t it? There’s a few places you can count on. Wild Oaks is always way down south.” He leans over for a look at you, nostrils flaring. His shirt is so shredded and hole-ridden you aren’t sure how it’s staying on him. “I’m from Verlinda, by the way. Trying to get to Aliquando Island, if you know where that’s at right now?” 

“I don’t, sorry,” you say. They’ve both put Verlinda on their maps a long way northwest from Prismville with deer crossing signs, but his deer has stranger antlers. 

“And you?” Kell asks, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Where’re you from? Where’re you headed?” 

You keep your head down, filling in the outline of a deer. “I don’t know,” you say. “It’s northeast of here. A long way northeast. I’m not sure what it’s called, or what’s there.” The table gets quiet. They feel bad for you. You don’t want to dwell on it. “I’ll go north, I think. Anything I should see in Prismville?” 

Kell grins. “The Mountain,” she says, rubbing her thumb over her stone pendant. “Not like you could miss it.” 

A crowd starts to gather on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. They clutch cardboard boxes, paper bags with the mouths taped shut and gift-wrapped packages. One hastily scribbles an address onto an envelope against the window. Kell is the first one outside and she’s swamped as soon as she announces she’s going to the University. Nobody cares that she doesn’t know where it is yet—a courier will get it there one way or another, faster than anyone else. The man from Verlinda leaves with a thick stack of letters rubberbanded together and nothing else.

The air is cool and damp. Clouds move too quickly like leaves blown across a puddle. There’s a thorny feeling in the back of your brain, a feeling that won’t leave you alone.

“Prismville!” you call over the restless chatter. “Anybody got anything going to Prismville?” There are a handful of takers: a crate of something heavy that rattles. A few jars of cloudy liquid with some lumpy preserved thing gently floating in each. A wax-sealed letter. You heft everything into the back of your car and pull out of the parking lot, and only then does the tension fall away from your shoulders and your jaw unclench. You have a compass in the glovebox but you don’t need it. Home is northeast, your heart says. Something tugs at you from beyond the shifting haze of fog on the horizon. Old brick buildings give way to hilly suburbs and sparse farmhouses. Claustrophobic streets widen into three-lane blacktop. Soon, Henley Creek is vanishing in the rearview mirror and you are on the road again. 

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE BY WELLMESS FEAT. CHRISTINE SMIT]

Legend has it that couriers like you are born out here, deep in the connective tissue that holds the Drift together. It’s not true, of course, but it must make some kind of sense to the people who don’t feel Home like a harpoon in the chest. They’re just trying to make sense of you. Most people only see the road, if they see anything at all through the fog. They aren’t paying attention to the grassy banks and gorges beside it, the redness of the soil right outside Compass Hill or the knee-high wildflowers in Verlinda. You could wander blindfolded and smell the difference between the earthy, fungal tang of the Stillwoods and the University egg gardens long before the welcome signs popped up to greet you. It’s not that the roads are any different for couriers. You’re just looking when they think there’s nothing to see.

The highway curves gently. A car slides into the passing lane and zips past you, the only other driver you see for a while. Something sprints through the fog on all fours, keeping pace with you for several miles before it breaks off and vanishes into the trees. The sickly sweet chemical stench of Henley Creek’s factories is just starting to wane when you realize you forgot to get gas in town. At the same moment, a blue sign comes looming out of the fog. PIT STOP: NEXT EXIT, it says. There’s no logo, no flair to the text, just the same terse uppercase font that announces speed limits and four words.

There could be something between here and Prismville. There could also be nothing, just the Drift stretching out lengths of highway like unraveling thread. You aren’t sure you want to risk it. You aren’t sure you want to stop either. You miss the exit trying to decide. You can push it, you think. You’ve gone further with less. The blink of a turn signal flashes in your rearview mirror and another courier speeds past. That four-legged shape comes loping up to the roadside again, not quite close enough to break through the fog, and you can still just barely smell Henley Creek. A sign comes. PIT STOP: NEXT EXIT. 

You curse under your breath. Reluctantly, you take the exit. A sharp hairpin turn leads you to a gas station just off the highway, the metal canopy edged with eerie red neon that turns the fog to blood-colored mist. The words PIT STOP glow white above the door. There’s a pickup parked at the side of the building, still running, nobody inside. You pull up to a pump, take a deep breath, and head for the gas station doors. There’s no one at the register.

A bell chimes as you open the door. “One sec,” you hear, a grumble from somewhere in the shelves. There’s a mess in the gap where someone could step behind the counter, a sludgy wet spot and a halo of floor to ceiling spatters. It’s definitely blood, still fresh enough to drip. There’s a squelching sound somewhere in the store. A door slams. The gas station attendant comes sauntering out of the back with a wide smile. 

It’s the same one you always see here—the only one you’ve ever seen. Big and broad-shouldered, calloused palms and short, dark hair. His smile is just a little off, a little too big when the rest of his face exudes menace. He wears a long black apron over his uniform, saturated with glistening spots of what could be oil, water or blood invisible until the light hits them just right. “Hey there, courier. Sorry about the mess,” he drawls, sidling up to the counter without even a glance down to make sure he isn’t stepping in it. He rubs his red fingers over the apron, wiping a new stain across the front. “What can I do for you?” 

“I’m at pump three,” you say.

“Mhm?” He rests his arm across the counter and leans forward. He’s giving you that hungry look he always does, drumming his blunt, bloody nails in an uneven, faltering rhythm. “And how do you wanna pay?”

You glance back at your car, out at the fog. Stalling. The attendant’s gaze burns into your back. “The only way you’ll let me pay,” you grumble. You hear a muted click and clatter; dice rolling against his palm. He beckons you forward with one finger. 

“C’mon, courier. I’ll let you pay all kinds of ways. I just don’t want your money,” he says. He stacks the dice on the counter between you, three in a little tower. “Besides, you know the rules. You don’t owe me anything if you win.” The blood on the ceiling is starting to congeal into something sticky and unpleasant. It drips infrequently, in big, gummy clots. “We’re playing Highwayman,” he says. 

“I know,” you say.

He ignores you. “The target’s fifty-two. We alternate rolls. If you go over, you lose. If you roll two wolves, you lose. If we both go over, whoever’s closer wins.”

“I know,” you insist. 

He chuckles and rolls first, counts up his numbers; a one, a four and a five. His eyes linger on your hand when you pick up the dice. You catch him licking his lips. “I’ve been hearing rumors lately,” he says casually. “Trouble down south. Up north? Wherever the Stillwoods ended up this time.” You roll, count, and wait for his turn. This is the easy part. “They’ve been seeing hermit seegris in the area. I’d tell you to watch yourself if you’re headed that way, but those things don’t tend to stay in one place for long.” 

“Hermit seegris?” you echo. “Never heard of those. What are they?” Click. Clack. Clatter. Two sixes and a five. You’re ahead.

The attendant hums. His turn is quick. He barely holds the dice before he flicks them out of his hand. “Like a hermit crab. But a seegris.” 

“You’re not gonna tell me what a seegris is, are you?” 

He grins. You think he’s just enjoying being a jackass but his gaze is lower, by your fingers. You rolled a two, a three, and a wolf. Your heart skips a beat at the blotchy silhouette. It could be anything, honestly. A couple pine trees. A rabbit. A butterfly, if you squint. It’s the shape that’s bound to show up on any die face if you roll it in the Drift often enough. “You know,” the attendant says, “I hear you roll wolves more often if you’re nervous.” Now he’s taking his time, fondling the dice for a while before he tosses them on the counter. Your palms are sweaty. You almost drop the dice on your turn. “You ever think about retiring, courier? Is that even an option? Your type don’t live long enough to get old anyway.” 

He just keeps talking. You don’t stop him. You’re hardly paying attention to a word out of his mouth, just rolling and counting and rolling and counting, each one harder, slower, more nervewracking than the last. Eventually, you toss the dice and his hand comes down hard over your wrist, trapping it against the counter. Your roll hasn’t settled for more than a fraction of a second but you know. It’s the look on his face. His eyes match his smile for the first time since you walked in, his face lighting up with glee. 

A six, a one, and a wolf. 

You look at him and he looks at you, his other hand dipping below the counter and returning wrapped around the heavy wooden handle of a meat cleaver. “Two wolves! Isn’t that something?” he says. “You look nervous, courier. Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever lost before. I guess everybody’s luck runs out eventually.” He grins, thumb stroking your pulse. Your stomach lurches. “But hey, you got close. Forty-nine! I’m feeling generous so I’ll give you a discount. Either way, gotta pay up. Safety or certainty?”

You shake your head, stammering. “Wait, wait, I—”

“Safety or certainty. Those are the options.” His grip tightens when you try to wriggle away and he yanks you closer, sending you stumbling into the register counter and sagging into his grip. “Want me to pick for you?”

“No,” you say quickly. He hums, unconvinced. “Wait, listen, okay, how about, uh…how about…”

“You’re young, aren’t you?” he says conversationally. He makes you splay your hand open, palm flat against the table. “Awful young. Haven’t lost anything quite like this before. Don’t you worry, courier. The more you drive these roads, the more you’ll get used to it. What I’m taking is so small you won’t know to miss it. Might wake up one day and realize you were better off without it.” 

“Wait, wait, no,” you beg. He’s not waiting, not even hesitating as he raises the cleaver over his head, your voice rising to a panicked pitch. “No, no, no, nononoWAITNO—!”

The blade comes down in a blur with a solid THUNK. The sounds your body makes are muted in comparison, so distant you don’t hear them over your own screaming, but there was the ripping of flesh as soft as a page turning, the crack of bone snapping and splintering. There’s oozing, throbbing pain shooting up your arm and the prickling wrongness of something not being where it should be, something that doesn’t listen when your body tells it to move. You sink to your knees without the attendant holding you, surprised through a haze of agony to find you still have a hand. There’s a gushing stump where the little finger on your left hand used to be. Shuddering connective tissue flexes and flinches in the wound. 

“You want me to wrap that for you?” the attendant asks. You lurch away from the counter with your hand clutched to your chest, sucking in shaky breaths. “Courier,” he says, shaking his head like you’re the one being unreasonable. He cradles your severed finger in his palm, gazing down at it like something precious. “Go on, fill your tank. And be careful out there. The Drift’s a dangerous place, you know. Monsters everywhere.” He lifts your finger to his mouth and gives it a good, long lick, smearing your blood across his tongue.

You mutter an insult and shoulder through the doors.

(next)

[itsyagurlchip]

٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭  ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Video Game Lover 💜٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭  ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰

✰⋆⁺warnings: cussing(!) slight existential crisis(!)

✰⋆⁺Sorry this took so long to come out- I had a hard time figuring out what kind of game I wanted this to be. I also changed the pov to 2nd person bc 1st person is starting to make me a bit uncomfy- Much trial and error. Enjoy this chapter!!

✰⋆⁺ Chapter 1: Welcome to the Underground! Sike-

(Prologue) | (chapter 2)

(...)

(...)

(...)

(-!)

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(...)

PROGRAM LOADED, START? (?)

YES NO (ok then)

{ enjoy your experience dear player :] } (WAIT! )

You couldn't tell where you were, and you could swear you could hear dying by omfg playing somewhere in the back of your head. Or was that all around you? All thoughts were interrupted by that trashy music.

Speaking of, your head really hurts.

And so you took a moment to gather yourself before you looked around your environment. and oh dear

Everything was either bright or pastel (you're pretty sure you wouldn't be able to see once you got out of here) and the build of the place reminded you of something from mario's 3D world.

Your Utah Aunt's baby shower could never.

You were in the forest, and in the near distance, you could see blocky-like hills. The grass underneath you was a sea green, and then you saw your feet underneath your knees.

you were pixelated... Which you found odd, the environment around you was round and 3D, but whatever.

You were in a royal attire, which made you question your lack of shoes.

Reaching for your hair you felt a metal through your tufts. A crown? You took it from its place and inspected it. huh, it was increased with a heart shaped gem. Underneath it, it was encrested with the words 'Our Majesty' Which made you do a double take.

where you a royal? Alright then. About time! You deserved this for a long time damn it!

Placing your status jewelry back on your head, you turned back to the world around you...how were you gonna get back? If this was really a video game, how many lives did you have? Were you...ever going to leave?...

What would happen if you ran out of lives?

A lot of it was cutesy in a way, something that you would've decided to play with your cousin- but knowing that your life could potentially be on the line...

Well now isn't the time to start that pissy crying now! If you're in a game, the only way to progress is to keep moving forward. In this world, time would wait you for, making your leave unnecessarily prolonged. You had to keep on moving.

You were currently in front of a rushing river, speeding as one would do when you're in a court case involving your kids. It didn't look safe to cross, so you didn't.

You looked around once more, seeing a long tree trunk conveniently placed between two branches. It also looked more like a plank now that you looked at it.

Either this game was trash, someone granted you a gift, or this was a coincidence. Either which way, you weren't gonna slow this journey. Rolling up your ridiculously puffy sleeves, you stretched and began to prepare yourself before you gripped onto the plank.

Oddly enough (what wasn't odd about this place?), the item wasn't heavy at all, but it held against the currents of the water.

You thanked the stars as you walked across your makeshift bridge to find out it was very much stable.

You marched deeper into the other side of the woods, hearing a ping above your head. You looked up to see a...?

A white check mark? Welp, you did something right in life, even if it was virtual.

You press onto it, the sign stretching out into a screen. Like a small laptop. It lowered down in front of your torso, with the screen black, and the words in purple pixelated text. There was 3 pages, each labeled stats, traits, and inventory.

Stats

Lives: 1

Death Count: 0

Health: 30/30

Attack 2/20

Traits

Perserverance: 5/20

Kindness: 0/20

Charizzma: 0/20

Intelligence: 5/20

Shadow Phase: 20/20

Inventory (1/5)

Extremely sharp knife

That sucks, you could only hold 5 things! And you weren't even gonna acknowledge the traits. And you were wrong...The wingdings didn't read 'One shit', the game is called 'One Shot'.

Which means anything with more atk damage would easily kill you, even if it took some time.

Underneath the stats read a note. It would be crazy if this was written by some gnome.

Welcome my Liege, this is Nigel the Gnome, your previous caretaker, and now lost friend! If you are reading this, I am dead.

'Well damn'

I warn you: Someone of non-royal status is going to dethrone you! Maybe even going as far to assassinate you. I am unsure. All I know is, you have to be careful on this journey. Ever since you left for the expedition, this forceful tyrant has only started his progression.

'i just got here bro-'

He's taken control of the capital, placing a bounty on your name.

'you just had to think something didn't you'

I yearn for this to be another life, but this isn't the case. Your Majesty, there is something about you no one has ever known of. Your legal guardians have entrusted me with this royal government secret, and now is the time to bestow the same upon to you.

You, my dear child, have the power to manipulate and phase into shadows. Apologies for not explaining this sooner, but here is some information you may want to get familiar with:

You can change the shape of shadows, you can travel through them as well as see through them, and you are able to make shadows, as well as your own, physical enough to defend and offend someone.

Bad news is, the only drawbacks you get is your body phasing in and out of the shadow realm, and tiredness. The best part is that only happens when you make the shadows physical.

I am running out of paper, so I have one last thing to say.

You only have one shot.

With the love, determination, and care I can give to you,

-Nigel Gnomaly

the world zoomed in around you, giving you tunnel vision. 'oh dear stars-' The world around you turned black.

GAME LOADING

LEVEL ONE FINISHED

{ Keep on going, the journey hasn't even begun :] }

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(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و tags: @kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice @valen-yamyam16. if you would like to be added, check my blog.

[ophernelia]

THIS POST WILL BE REBLOGGABLE ONCE THE PICTURES ARE ADDED IN. FOR NOW, IT IS INCOMPLETE.

REQUIRED PROGRAMS: The Sims 4, SimRipper, Sims 4 Studio, & Blender 3.6 or higher.

Whether you want to make a brand new sim or use one you’ve already made, load up TS4 and make a new save. If you’re using a sim you’ve already made, then make sure you have them saved to your library beforehand. This save can be solely for ripping sims from. In my own experience, I’ve found that they eventually get corrupted over time. So, dress your sim up in CAS and make sure their first everyday outfit is the one you want to render.

Place your sim on a lot. Save the game and label the save as “Sim Ripper”. Anything along the lines that will remind you that save is only for ripping sims.

Open up SimRipper and select the NinjaRipper save. It may take a little while to load depending on how much cc you have in your game and the number of households. Once the list of townies loads, click your sim’s name.

Once they’ve loaded in, export them as a DAE file. Make sure you put it somewhere you’ll remember. It’s best to have a folder just for Blender content. Once they’ve been exported successfully, close out SimRipper.

Open up Blender. Click ‘general’. For this tutorial, I’m using Blender 3.6. Click ‘general’, then delete all the objects on the screen. (the lamp, cube, and camera). You can do this by left clicking and dragging a box around all the objects. Once they’re all selected, right click and click ‘delete’ or just press ‘X’. OR if you’re using a scene that you’ve downloaded, then just head to ‘file’, then open the scene you’ve downloaded. Most scenes come with a collection that say ‘DAE’, so click that and when you import your sim, it goes there.

Now, let’s import your sim! Head up to file, drop down to import and select ‘Collada (.dae)’. Head to the location where you saved your sim’s dae file from SimRipper. Double click it and it’ll open in Blender.

Let’s change the view, because everything’s gray right now. You wanna make sure your texture files imported properly too. Head to the top right of the Blender scene window and click this circle for viewport shading. Now, you can see your sim in all its glory. You may notice that they’re shiny or if they have on alpha cc, then their hair or lashed may be blocky. We can fix that by editing the nodes.

In the top left, pull the window over to open a new window. To the left of ‘Object Mode’ click editor type and go to ‘Shader Editor’. In the window your sim is in, click on your sim. In the shader editor window beside it, some stuff should pop up that looks like this:

Now, we just have to connect some nodes and add a few in. On the specular window, drag and drop the yellow circle to the ‘Specular’ section in the ‘Principled BSDF’ window. Now, your sim isn’t shiny anymore!

Let’s add in a ‘Mix Shader’ next. Press ‘Shift +A’, go to ‘Shader’, and click ‘Mix Shader’. Drag it in between the ‘Principled BSDF’ window and the ‘Material Output’ window, it should auto connect.

Click ‘Shift + A’ again, go to ‘Shader’, and then select ‘Transparent BSDF’. Connect the green BSDF node to the first ‘Shader’ node on the Mix Shader. It should take the place of the node connect from the Principled BSDF window. Then connect the Principled BSDF to the bottom ‘Shader’ node.

Last thing you have to do is drag the ‘Alpha’ node from the Base Color window and connect it to the ‘FAC’ on the Mix Shader window. Your final product should look something like this:

Now, let’s head to the Material section on the right hand side of the screen. Click it and under ‘Settings’ you’ll see blend and shadow mode. For both of those sections, click them and select ‘Alpha Hashed’. Now your sims is all set to pose!

Let’s change the Editor type from ‘Shader’ to ‘Non-linear Animation’. Now, on the right hand side of the screen click your rig. All the points on them should light up orange. Next click ‘I’ on your keyboard and then select ‘Rotation, Location, & Scale’.

Back in the Nonlinear Animation window, Click the pink box next to ‘Rig Action’. Click the orange track next to it, right click, and select ‘Delete’. It’s already clear, but this is good practice to do every time you render so your poses or animations won’t be wonky.

Now, let’s add in a pose. Open up Sims 4 Studio. Where it says ‘My Projects’ open up the pose pack you want to use. Select ‘Clips’ and then the pose you want to use. Now, you wanna export it. Don’t change any of the settings and just click export. Name it as something that describes the pose, so you can easily identify it. Then close out S4S.

Back in Blender, head to ‘File’ and click ‘Append’. Locate the blender file of the pose you just saved. Click it, then click ‘Action’, and select that file. Now, the action is in the Blender program so you just have to add it to your rig.

Click ‘Rig Action’ again and then click ‘Add’. Select ‘Add Action Strip’ and your pose should be there. Click it and voila! Your sim should be posing now!

All that’s left to do now is finish the scene, so you can render an image. Change the editor type again to ‘3D Viewport’. Now, click ‘Shift + A’ and add in a camera. You can click the camera and move it around using “G” or these the color arrows that show up. To adjust the size of the camera, you can click output, and change the dimension sizes to your liking. You can also change the camera perspective. For this tutorial, I’ll be using the ‘Orthographic Camera’. OR if you’re using a scene that already has cameras, drag your rig over to one of those and set them up. Make sure to click I on your keyboard again after moving them and click ‘Location, Rotation, & Scale’. That saves their position.

Once you’ve got your camera added in select it, then in the left window click ‘view’, ‘cameras’ and ‘set object as active camera’. That way you’ll be able to see exactly what the camera sees. If you’d like to change the resolution, then go to ‘output’ on the right hand side. There you can change the X and Y resolutions to your liking. Remember larger photos take longer to render, but the quality tends to be better.

Now, let’s change the shading again. In the window with the camera view change the viewport shading to the fourth ‘viewport shading’ circle. This allows you to see how your scene will looks rendered with all the lights included.

If you’re using a premade scene, then the lighting should already be set up. If you’re making your own, you’ll have to add in lights. Click ‘Shift + A’ again and go to lights. From there you can add in any of these, but for this tutorial I chose ‘area’. You can play around with each of these to see which ones you like best. You can adjust their settings in the data section and move the lights around the scene. If you’d like to add in shadows from the light, go to ‘data’ on the right hand hand side, then click ‘shadow’ and ‘contact shadow’.

Once your scene is lit, your sim is posed, it’s time to render the scene. I typically use Eevee to render instead of Cycles. Cycles takes longer and has a more realistic feel. You can render with whichever you like. Head to ‘render’ on the right hand side. Change the render engine to ‘Cycles’ or leave it on ‘Eevee’. You can click ‘ambient occlusion’ and ‘bloom’ if you’d like. I always use AO. Sometimes I use bloom. Also check ‘Screen Space Reflections’.

Once that’s done, go to the output section. It’s right below the render camera icon on the right hand side. Scroll down to output. Click the folder icon to change your render location from temporary files to whenever you’d like to put them. You can put them in a folder, on your desktop, or whenever. Next to ‘image sequence’ uncheck ‘overwrite’. If you’re rendering multiple images from a scene, then you don’t want them to overwrite each other. You can also change the color size and compression depth. Personally, I change compression size to 0 and color depth to 16, but be wary this makes your file larger. It also increases rendering time.

Once all that is complete, it’s time to render your image! In the top left click ‘render’, then ‘render image’. After however long it takes your PC to render the image, you’re all done! Lastly, click ‘image’ in the top left, then ‘save as’. Save your rendered image to wherever you’ve decided to put your files and then you’re all done!