#Full Lum

[yumedoca]

Uchuu wa Taihen da! - All Stars version

[Performed by: Ataru, Lum, Shinobu, Mendo, Cherry and Sakura (CV: Hiroshi Kamiya, Sumire Uesaka, Maaya Uchida, Mamoru Miyano, Wataru Takagi and Miyuki Sawashiro)]

[archersgoon]

i dont think its a unique phenomenon obviously i have read other books & i know its acually used & thought about sort-of in the books but it is interesting when im at uni and were doing all this stuff about the concept of a 'national language' as something that only really came into play in the 19th century with the conceptualisation of the modern nation-state, and then to look at the state of things in skuldenore & be like oh. okay. if you say so pseudo-medieval continent.

[lunasilverpelt]

*eats ur art*

yummy in my tummy 👍

Awawa ty....

[t00nified]

He has a baby of his own Rosabelle: @emmaolemma

[watchilove]

Bell & Ross BR 03 DIVER Full Lum: An Illuminating Dive into Excellence

Bell & Ross has long been synonymous with creating high-performance timepieces designed to conquer both the skies and the seas. With the new BR 03 DIVER Full Lum, the brand has once again demonstrated its prowess in crafting watches that seamlessly blend aesthetic brilliance with uncompromising functionality. As part of the 2024 collection, the BR 03 DIVER Full Lum is a beacon of innovation,…

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for bOO-oops behind the cut; “Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids”. tw: aftermath of a panic attack, implied PTSD, unhealthy coping mechanisms. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

If it hadn’t been for Ma and Pa, she would’ve just stayed up above ground with Kal, both of them hurting and terrified and screaming. If it hadn’t been for Ma and Pa, she wouldn’t have been able to get him away from all the roaring and crashing or protect him from the noise or soothe him through the fear. She wouldn’t even have known how to get him away from it. Wouldn’t have been able to do anything for him at all. 

Worse that that, because all she actually did by being there was make it worse. Ma and Pa could’ve carried just Kal down here much faster if they hadn’t had to drag her along while she was screaming and panicking and carrying on like a disgrace. It would’ve been easier, if she hadn’t been there. She couldn’t help him at all. She couldn’t protect him at all. 

She was a burden to him. 

That’s not why their family saved her. 

“Suh ay-fuh,” Ma repeats softly, and “Suh ay-fuh,” Pa agrees. Kara still doesn’t know what the word means–what the words mean?–and still isn’t sure she’s even reading Ma and Pa’s tones right, flat as they are, and is still just so bitterly ashamed of herself. Kal fusses in her lap, and she wipes helplessly at his face with the cloth square again. He keens unhappily and tries to squirm away from her grip, and she feels a rush of panic and terror and–and– 

She’s such a disappointment. Such an embarrassment to their house; their family. Such a . . . such a useless . . . 

She chokes back another sob, hating herself for even having to, and wraps herself tighter around Kal. He just–it’s not–it’s not safe, if he just– 

“Karr-full, Ka-Lair,” Ma says, laying her hands gently over the back of Kara’s. Kara doesn’t understand how Ma and Pa can be this kind, when she’s such an embarrassment and a mess and . . . and isn’t . . . “Ka-Lum jess wan-suh tah gitt dow-nah, dar-leen, thas ull.” 

Kara doesn’t know what Ma’s saying. Something, obviously but . . . but not something she knows. Not anything she recognizes; not even anything she can even hear right, it feels like. Kal is keening unhappily in her arms again and still trying to wriggle away from her and she doesn’t–she doesn’t–doesn’t he know it’s not safe? Doesn’t he know how small he is, how easy to snuff out, how tiny and helpless and small and–and– 

He doesn’t, she thinks vaguely. He doesn’t remember Krypton burning and collapsing and imploding; doesn’t remember his parents sealing him away inside his pod. Even if he does, Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor had probably just laid him in it the same way they would’ve laid him in his cradle. Just like he was going to sleep for a little while, and no different from any other time they’d put him to bed. 

Mother and Father, though . . . 

Kara had–she’d panicked. She’d been terrified, and she’d been trying to convince them she couldn’t go alone, that they had to come with her, that they couldn’t just send her alone, and–and she’d refused to get in her pod, and–and she’d–she’d refused to get in, so the last time she’d ever gotten to touch her mother had been her mother grabbing her by the arms and throwing her in, and her father slamming the door behind, and her own voice screaming and screaming and her fists beating against the door, and the whole world ending all around them. 

She’d thought–she’d thought there was something else they could’ve done. Thought there was something else they could’ve done. 

But she’d been wrong. Stupid and deluded and shameful and wrong. 

So the last time she’d ever seen her parents she’d been screaming at them, fighting with them, and the last time she’d ever touched her mother had been her mother having to shove and throw and force her away, force her to not be stupid enough to die. She hadn’t gotten to hold her or Father one last time. Hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to them. To say anything to them. 

She hadn’t even let them say goodbye to her. 

The last thing she ever, ever could’ve done for them before they’d both burned up and died, before the whole world had ended, before everything any of them had ever known had ended, and she hadn’t even been able to do that. Couldn’t even let her own parents hold her one last time, and tell her goodbye. Let them be proud of how their daughter had acted; how she’d understood what they were doing and why, and had accepted her duty with dignity, and gone calm and steady, and how she wouldn’t wake up thousands upon thousands of lightyears later still sobbing and screaming for them. 

What kind of daughter is she, that she couldn’t even give them that? 

. . . what kind of daughter was she. 

Her parents are dead. She’s not a daughter anymore. 

Kara Zor-El is no one’s daughter, and Kal-El doesn’t understand that it’s not safe anymore. Wasn’t ever safe. “Safe” was a lie, always. But he still doesn’t understand how easily the ceiling could cave in, how easily the world could crack apart, how easily the sun could burn out. He doesn’t understand. 

He doesn’t understand, and all she has left is whatever she can do to keep him safe. 

That’s the only thing she can do for any of them, now. Anyone from their house, anyone from their line, their family, their world– 

Kal’s first word wasn’t even Kryptonian, and he’s never cried for Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor like she thought he would, and he doesn’t understand. 

And he’s the only thing she has left. 

“Ka-Lair,” Ma repeats even softer, and Kara can’t shame their house again. Can’t fail Kal again. Can’t fail her parents again. 

Can’t stop herself from bursting into tears again. 

“O, bay-bee gurr,” Pa says roughly, and he and Ma both wrap her up in their arms again like she even deserved it the first time, and she can’t do a thing but just sit there holding Kal and sob and sob and sob all over him. She’s such a disgrace. Such an embarrassment. Such a disappointment. 

Such a weak, pathetic failure. 

Rao won’t even come for a shameful thing like her, when it’s time. 

Ma and Pa tug her to her feet with Kal again and guide them both over to the far side of the room past the shelves and unwrap the rolled-up blankets on the shelves to spread them out over the flat pallet laid on the floor back there. The blankets are odd ones, soft and padded and thick with, for some reason, rows of metal-toothed fasteners all the way down two of their edges. Kara only knows they’re fasteners at all because she’s seen them on the aliens’ clothes before, but doesn’t know why blankets would need fasteners like those. 

She can’t think of a reason, but she also can’t stop crying and can’t protect Kal and can’t do right by their house and can’t make up for not hugging her mother one last time, so why would she be able to do anything at all? 

Ma and Pa coax her and Kal down into the blankets and fold them around them, and . . . oh, Kara realizes as Pa pulls the fastener’s tab up to seal it into a large pocket that envelopes her and Kal completely. Kal fusses and tries to squirm out of her arms, reaching for Ma with a flat alien-sounding whine, but he doesn’t know it’s not safe, and Kara can’t let him go. She just–she can’t. It’s not safe, and he doesn’t know. 

Kal whines louder, and then he starts to wail. Ma kneels down beside them and strokes his hair, making her little hissing sounds at him again. He goes back to the flat alien-sounding whines, but tries to crawl out of Kara’s arms again. 

She doesn’t know why he can’t just understand. 

“It’s not safe, Kal!” she sobs into his hair, huddling down small in the blanket pocket and wrapping him up tighter as she curls in around him again, and Kal goes back to wailing and tries to kick his way out of her arms. Ma hisses and hisses and hisses, leaning down over them and stroking his hair again. Pa sits down beside her and reaches over to stroke Kara’s back through the blankets, and she still can’t stop crying, still can’t take care of Kal, still can’t do this right, can’t–can’t– 

“Ma!” Kal wails, reaching towards her again. “Ma! Ma! MA!”

But it’s not safe, and he doesn’t understand. 

Kara sobs harder, and Ma and Pa make their little hissing noises again and again, and Kal wails, and she’s–she’s such a disgrace, an even worse disgrace, a–it’s not another apocalypse, not even anything really dangerous, not the literal end of the world all over again, so why is she crying again and why doesn’t Kal understand?! He needs to understand, he needs to, he won’t be safe if he doesn’t understand, if he doesn’t learn, if–he won’t be safe! 

And he doesn’t even know enough Kryptonian to know that, because she hasn’t taught him enough to know. 

How can she not have taught him that? 

Ma lays down beside them and wraps them both up in her arms, and makes more hissing sounds at them. She talks very soft and quiet, even as Kara just uselessly sobs and can’t even try to understand what she’s saying. But Kal’s cries start to gutter down a little, and then a little more, and then they settle into just hitched sniffles and tiny little whimpers and flat whines. Ma strokes his hair, and Pa strokes Kara’s back again. 

And Kara can’t even make Kal feel better when he’s scared, so what use even is she? What good even is she? 

None. Nothing. Not any kind of good. She’s useless, and no good to Kal at all. 

This pretty little yellow sun shouldn’t even touch her with its light. Never should’ve touched her at all. 

She can still hear the crashing through the heavy doors of the hatch, distant and muted but unmistakable. It won’t stop. 

She tries to tell herself that as long as it doesn’t stop, the world hasn’t ended. If the weather protocols are running, and the sky is roaring like that . . . the world isn’t over, if she can still hear that. 

She couldn’t hear anything after her father had slammed the door shut on her. 

So . . . so as long as it doesn’t stop, Kara tells herself. Tells herself, and cries silent, shameful tears against Kal’s vacuum-black curls and the dull, rough fabric of Ma’s flower-patterned dress where it covers her shoulder. As long as it doesn’t stop. The world isn’t over, if it doesn’t stop. The world is still there, if it doesn’t stop. 

It has to be. It has to be. 

Kal needs it to be, because he needs to be safe. She needs to make sure he’s safe. So the world has to still be there. At least this world, anyway. 

It’s already too late for theirs, after all. It’s–it’s a long time too late for theirs. 

But it’s not too late for Kal.

.

.

.

They all stay down in the liquid-stone room for a long time, and the crashing and rain continues on. One crash is so bellowingly loud that even Ma and Pa jump at the sound of it, but they don’t seem concerned; just a little startled. They don’t seem concerned about anything but Kara and Kal. 

Not like it’s the end of the world. 

Ma and Pa talk to them for most of it. Pa sorts through a few thick paper records that are on the shelf and takes one off, and reads to them from it in his flat, toneless voice. Ma strokes their hair, and . . . 

Kara thinks it’s how the aliens sing, what Ma does. Or at least, it seems as close to singing as she’s heard them do. There isn’t even as much resonance or melody as a Kryptonian’s typical speaking voice to it, but . . . but it is kind of her, to do it. Kara appreciates it, that she tries. 

They’re both so kind, all the time. She doesn’t understand why they’re always so kind, even when she’s doing something as disgraceful and embarrassing and ill-behaved as this. 

She should sing to Kal more, Kara thinks vaguely. If she were better at this–if she were better at this, she would’ve been singing to him already. Telling him stories; telling him about their world and their house and their–about his parents. Speaking their language to him. 

His first word might’ve been Kryptonian, if she were better at this. 

And if she were better at this, Ma and Pa wouldn’t even have thought they had to go out in the storm and bring them down here to begin with. 

Kara cries a few more times, later, but only once Kal is sleeping and Ma and Pa think she’s sleeping too. She’s already disgraced herself enough for one day, and she can’t be trouble for them; can’t be difficult like this again. Like she keeps being. 

She can’t be, because as kind as they are, even Ma and Pa won’t put up with a useless farmhand forever. Can’t put up with a useless farmhand forever. There’s work to do. They need someone strong enough to help them bring in their harvests and carry their animals’ feed and Pa’s tools and Ma’s shopping and–and not make trouble, and–and if she can’t do that, they’ll send them away. And Kara can’t let that happen yet; not before she understands this planet well enough to take care of Kal on it by herself. 

So she can’t let that happen yet. And she can’t be useless, or difficult, or a disgrace. Can’t make trouble for Ma and Pa or get in their way. 

And she can’t let Kal see her any way but smiling. 

.

.

.

It’s silent, when Kara wakes up in the morning. The world is over, and she’s behind a locked door, and she didn’t even let her mother hold her one last time. 

She gets up and goes outside to help Ma and Pa clean up the mess from the storm and feed Kal breakfast and do the chores. 

She has to.

[0birdmasta0]

done the quest twice now. You can do it once a week & it resets on the weekend but from the update time it reset 12 hours later.

hot tip don't be like me I had 5/6 fantasy world missions done so I had to fight a boss then wait 6 hours to get out of world mission jail so I could actually do the quest.

have not said anything here in like a month idk man i just got busy doing things

ANYWAY who's ready for this shit????

[tsukiyo-7]

This is me trying to bypass Tumblr censorship, attempt 1

Just in case, the full fanart is on ao3

Details under the cut! (It's a bit long, I'm warning you)

Here's the frankly too long explaination.

I basically crammed in this drawing all my favourite motifs and all of my studies.

The tattoo on Sam's back is something I designed myself and represents Mater Dolorosa (Our Lady of Sorrows or Madonna Addolorata) with a stanza from the prayer "Stabat Mater" that goes as folows - "Through her soul, of joy bereaved, bowed with anguish, deeply grieved, now at length the sword hath passed."

Then we have Saint Michael slaughtering the Devil on Dean's arm. This is a mesh up of different stock images; usually Saint Michael stands over a serpent not a dragon and has a sword, not a halberd, those come from Saint George (Patron Saint of soldiers, so not a random choice)

Then there's the scripts. (Open the first pic)

The roman numbers on Dean's collarbone: II.V.XCIII = 2.5.83, Sam's date of birth.

The matching latin tattoos on their bicepts: The whole quote actually is "Nec tecum, nec sine te vivere possum" by Ovidius, which means "I can't live with you nor without you" and I thought of splitting it like that because I think it sums up their relationship pretty well. They can't be together, especially Sam imo (forever the runaway), because it's basically self-destructive, but being apart maybe is even worse (suicidal Dean anyone?).

A mandala with a mantra on Sam's tigh: गत��� गते पारगते पारसंगते बोधि स्वाहा . The Devanāgarī, for those unfamiliar, is a South Asian writing system. Here we have the mantra that closes the Heart Sutra "Gone, gone, gone to the other shore, Awakening, Svaha." (Svaha is the Hindu goddess of sacrifices; in a Buddhist context the term is used as denoument for mantras, espicially duing rites and offerings).

The characters on Dean's bicept, next to Saint Michael: 天罰. Those are technically Hanja aka Traditional Chinese characters used to write Korean (mostly because I first encountered this word in my korean phylology studies and that's how I know it), but they mean the same thing in Korean, Chinese and Japanese, "Divine Punishment", sooo - the only difference is the ponunciation. Korean: 천벌 (cheonbeol) Japanese: てんばつ (tenbatsu) Chinese: 天罚 (tiān fá).

Lastly, on Dean ribs, say hi to my bestie Hammurabi and his famous Code: here we have the Law 196 which actually even rocks know about; An eye for an eye. The full text says: "If a man has blinded the eye of another man, his eye will be blinded." Can't really offer you a transcript but if you're curious here's the transliteration:

" šum-ma a-wi-lum i-in DUMU a-wi-lim úḫ-tap-pí-id i-in-šu ú-ḫa-ap-pa-du " There's this really neat website here that is a digital version of the whole code and it's also my source.

[berrynooboos]

The Qliwnum (Klee-num) is a race of extraterrestrial beings. Gaia Nova's current Pollination Technicians are available for download!

This download includes;

A Multi-PT set replacement with the below EIGHT sims.

The eight skins they're wearing, custom.

The eight different eyecolors they are using, custom.

Recolors of various antenna in the eight Qliwnum colors, Meshes included.

Recolor of the 3T2 Future Suit by @rented-space, in the eight Qliwnum Colors, for AU, Meshes included.

Sims2Pack files for installing all eight sims in their full glory. (Uncheck the sim file in the packs to avoid doubles!)

Poulnh (Pole-nah) Translation: Quartz

Fuwryl (Foo-wry-l) Translation: Jasper

Neruh (Neh-ruh) Translation: Topaz

Yg'ylums (Gi-lums) Translation: Emerald

Uh'olany (Uh-oh-lah-nee) Translation: Azurite

Wurrtaly (Were-Tahlee) Translation: Sapphire

Muraw Muhoma (Moo-raw Moo-hoo-ma) Translation: Lapis Lazuli

Ugyntiwn (Uh-geen-tin) Translation: Amethyst

Their offspring will always have their skin and eyes. They will either spawn with the Pollinated sims hair color, or because the PTs have custom hair colors, custom which will default to black when editing in CAS. Here is an example of their offspring when paired with Berry;

They have no makeup, and their faces weren't touched.

Download below the cut! Enjoy~

[GOOGLE DRIVE]

[yumedoca]

OH MY GODD, (it's only a very, very small bit but) ITS HERE!!! It's the 'All Stars' cover of the first original anime ending song: 'Uchuu Wa Taihen Da!', the most UY song ever!!!!

[raygirl14]

Festival of Memories

Today with @nwysperiablog we wanted to bring a short text between these two incredible characters, I hope you enjoy it! 💙♥️

We invite you to follow us on Instagram!

💜--> N_Wysperia

🩷--> Raygirl14_

It was a pleasant afternoon in the Dream Clearing, and everyone seemed to be preparing for what appeared to be a festival commemorating the Silver Lums. All the nymphs seemed to be busy with their respective tasks throughout the festival, from Edith Up with the food stalls to Holly Luya with the music. Betilla had finished the flower and vegetation decorations thanks to her fairy magic, in order to give it a much wilder touch.

"Wonderful work, Betilla!" praised the Grand Minimus, who was standing with a map of fairground games.

"Will Rayman be coming?" he asked with a kind smile. Betilla smiled at him.

"He probably loves these things, along with Globox and his many tadpole nephews," Betilla commented to the Grand Minimus.

"So... Do you think "You Know Who" will show up?" Mama Voodoo commented angrily to her sister. Betilla blushed and frowned at her.

"He's been absent these past few months, and he sends a letter every two weeks. I highly doubt he'll actually try to show up," Helena mentioned doubtfully to "him." And who is he? Well, the one they were talking about was none other than The Magician, also elegantly known as Ales Mansay. Betilla seemed to be the only one Ales would send a letter to from time to time, and other times to Rayman; but the one he remained consistent with was Betilla. It all started when he decided to travel the world in search of new wonders and new styles of magic for his shows. He was a free and fun soul, full of curiosity and unable to stay still in one place. Betilla and he had begun their closeness many, many years ago, when Rayman was just a small Thingamajig boy and she cared for him as if he were her son. Ales had played a fundamental role in Rayman's life, but also, even though it was hard for her to admit it... in hers. She could still remember the charisma of his smile, his elegant way of dressing as if he were an English gentleman, and his beautiful platinum-blond horses. Ales had an elegance that very few Thingamajig could match or even pretend to. But that fell short of her mysterious gaze beneath those soft, pretty bangs. It was almost a privilege to be allowed to see her beautiful purple eyes... those eyes: How I loved those eyes so much. But as was inevitable, both of our colleagues had to deal with council matters, one busier than the other, and in Ales's case, it was off to explore new possibilities.

"Are you thinking about him?" Anetta Fish asked brazenly. Betilla snapped out of her thoughts and shook her hands to leave, leaving everyone somewhat bewildered. She headed to the second floor of the council, where the library was located, where she used to research certain things beyond her control. She approached a wooden owl and tapped it lightly, opening a hatch inside which was a stuffed Ales Mansay toy she had made for him many years ago. It was somewhat battered and even slightly battered. She headed to the balcony and leaned on the railing as the sky quickly darkened completely and the three moons adorned the dark night, accompanied by their bright stars.

"Why did he miss you?" she said to herself as she slowly hugged the stuffed animal, rubbing her head against it with a certain melancholy. Of course, she knew why she missed him so much; they spent all their time together. Whether it was drinking tea, reading books, or listening to his fabulous stories illustrated with the magic he perfected for his shows, she was always his first audience before anything else...she remembered him as if it were yesterday.

"...and at the last second! When all seemed lost! The fabulous and unforgettable Rayman arrived!" said Ales, standing on the living room table. Betilla laughed softly at his comment, delicately covering her mouth. "Too cliché?" she asked, getting off. She laughed, shaking her head.

"I think it's best to tone down the plot a bit, but... it's a step forward," she said with a soft, warm smile, which was immediately returned by him, who seemed to blush her cheeks and soften her eyebrows against the fairy's angelic face.

"I don't think I could say it to the public without first telling you... you're one of... my safe places, Betty," he said, gently brushing a strand of hair away from the fairy's face as she blushed and lowered her gaze.

"It's nice to hear a talented soul like you," she said, shrugging her shoulders while still smiling, while Ales seemed to give her the same look, even though she couldn't see his eyes due to the length of his bangs. All those warm memories seemed to fade away from the magician's sudden distance. But even more so when he wondered whether or not it was a good idea to have sent him an invitation to the Silver Lum Festival. Why did Ales's distance hurt so much? While many close friends had distanced themselves, she took it in stride, with him it was a totally... different feeling. Just thinking about it made a few tears fall onto the stuffed animal from helplessness as they spent a few hours with the festival under the balcony.

"Seriously, I was stupid," she said to herself, squeezing the stuffed animal.

"He's not coming... He's too late, or maybe he's just not interested in these things anymore, or... it's pointless." She dropped the stuffed animal off the balcony, but suddenly, a purple mana prevented it from falling, and it went to the edge of the balcony, sitting down.

"...or he stopped to bring you sunflowers," said a voice with a warm but clearly terrified tone. Betilla looked up and thought it could be a joke in bad taste or even a dream; it was all right. She quickly wiped her face and pretended to be okay, but he already knew perfectly well what she was going through and feeling. He approached her carefully, with a soft but nervous smile, and handed her the sunflowers.

"...Hi, Betty," he greeted with a big smile. Betilla was still stunned, but shook her head and smiled just as sweetly.

"Hi, Ales...It's been a while, it's great to see you," she said, smiling, trying to recover and take the sunflowers.

"Did you really think I'd miss an event to which my favorite fairy in the whole world invited me?" he said, raising an eyebrow enthusiastically, but she stopped smiling and went ahead.

"Honestly, yes. The last time we saw each other in person, you said that without a home, you'd have no reason to come back," she said, slightly annoyed. Ales took Betilla's hand, and she turned around unexpectedly.

"Betilla...I said that because I needed to think about a lot of things, and...I realized that yes; No place is home because to me, little darling... you are home." Saying that, the fairy blushed so much she looked like a strawberry. Ales bowed respectfully, almost pleading for his absence and lateness.

"Would you like to be my companion at the Silver Lum Festival?" he asked, somewhat nervous but still charming. She became emotional inside, unexpectedly grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips, making such an impression that her hair rose, along with her hat, and a pair of hearts appeared in her eyes.

"Of course, Ales," she said, as he foolishly took her hand to kiss it, and they both headed to the festival while catching up on their adventures.

The End💙❤️

text created by @nwysperiablog

illustration created by me xD

[ducktracy]

Would love to see a Lum doodle some day! I imagine your style and UY would be a cool match, and I'm laughing at the idea of Duck Dodgers running into Lum lol

I ACTUALLY HAVE A FEW! i need to do a full piece with her sometime because she’s SOOOOO CUTE I LOVE HER… i’m still pretty early on in the series but it has been SUCH a blast i can’t believe it took me so long to get on the bandwagon!! it appeals to so many of my sensibilities

AND! a Dodgers and Lum crossover sounds FANTASTIC, i sadly was not big brained enough to think of that yet… but i do have Daffy as Lum thanks to a very amusing Discord conversation. Porky as Ataru is the funniest thing to imagine because they could not be more opposite, but, also, i love Ataru and i love Porky, so…

also. propaganda for the folks at home to get you to watch UY: they play William Tell with giant death cannons

[bixels]

I feel so conflicted because I've been begging for a new Endless Ocean game on Switch for years, but I'm... kinda disappointed by what I saw in Luminous's trailer. There was no mention of a singleplayer story, which makes me feel like this is just a party exploration game.

The thing that made Endless Ocean 2 for me was how hard they committed to its story, characters, and settings. It was a full-ass RPG.

Comparing Lum to Blue World, it... doesn't look better either. Lum seems to have reduced caustics, light rays, distance fog, and blue lighting, which makes underwater environments feel fake and sterile.

Top is new, bottom is old.

Plus, I've never been a big fan of the Switch era's phone-app-game-style UI design... Especially compared to the original's very Y2K look.

I know I'm being nitpicky, but this was my favorite childhood game and it's been 15 years since the last installment. I'm still gonna buy, but it'll be a hilariously cruel twist of fate if the 15-year-old installment is not only more impressive in scale but also looks better than what we're getting now.

[the-3merald-butterfly]

✨𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬✨

To begin, you must know that the universe is made of energy. Everything that moves around you, everything that lives and thinks is given life by the tiny magical lights which we call... 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬. These are very powerful shards of energy of unknown origin. Whether they are the essence of a God of Creation or simply their own thing, all you need to know is that Lums are responsible for all of creation. Lums come in many different colors, each with it's own special powers. There are 7 types of Lums in total.

💛𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝: The Yellow Lums grant wisdom and knowledge, allowing one to gain better understanding of concepts and the world around them. When gathered, they offer insights into whatever question you may have.

✨

❤𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫: The Red Lums are full of vital energy. They allow for strength and power to exist within the universe. When gathered, they can offer a boost in one's power and capabilities. They can even prolong your life. Since they represent pure power, many individuals such as pirates love gathering them for their energy.

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💜𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞: The Purple Lums grants a continuous area with dimensions within which all things exist and move. When gathered, one can use them to warp from one place to another by grabbing hold of the rings on them and throwing them as far as you can. Where they end up, you will be warped to, allowing for faster travel.

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🤍𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞: The White Lums create the basic physical reality that we reside in. When gathered, White Lums are able to change something into something else: for example, a book into a chair, a bed into a table, etc.

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💖𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞: The Pink Lums assure the cohesion of the world. They govern and balance the structure of all of creation. Without them, nothing would be solid or visible. When gathered, these lums can be used to restore things back to their prime.

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💚𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: The Green Lums give the universe motion, being the very cosmic force that pushes time forward. These lums can record your placement in time from when you gathered them, allowing you to return to when you encountered them by rubbing it.

💙𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥: The Blue Lums contain the first breath. They are the origin of all life, and connect all living things down to their very soul. Each creature receives at birth a combination of Blue Lums which make up their soul, which they keep and maintain until they die. When gathered, these lums allow one to gain a sort of "extra life." It can resurrect the dead and allow you to resurrect from the brink of death.

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A huge thank you to @joker-shiromiya for helping me write this!!! It's amazing!!! Please check out their stuff too!! They create the coolest stuff!! (And tell them Z says hi!!)

So yes!! These are my AU design for Rayman's Lums, I wanted them to be unique from each other and represent something within the Glade!!

[okami-iris]

Lum and Ran matching pfp's ⚡🌸

Here's the full pic edited by me(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤ if you use please give me credit or reblog this 🌷💜

If y'all can't tell I'm watching Urusei Yatsura 1981 version 💖

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Flamyangelwings; Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids.

Ma and Pa store the wreckages of both of their ships in a building that Kara thinks is a barn and cover them with thick, heavy fabric. She takes the crystals out of the ships first, obviously. The ships are little more than scrap now, but they’ll need the crystals one day. 

Not yet, but . . . one day. 

She and Kal both wear alien clothes and eat alien food and she does her alien work, and he plays with his alien toys, and Ma and Pa . . . Ma and Pa fuss, Kara can’t help feeling. 

Sometimes other aliens visit, or they go into Smoll-Veel for supplies or to eat at the restaurants or visit places Kara doesn’t always understand the purpose of. There’s a park, and a shop for textiles, and a . . . library, she thinks? Ma and Pa don’t exchange money for the things they take from it, anyway; just scan a card, and then bring them back later. Kara thinks they’re some sort of . . . paper records, from what she’s gathered–sheets upon sheets of paper, all bound together on one side. Some of them are slimmer and have pictures, and Ma and Pa like to take turns reading those to Kal. Some of them are thicker and don’t have pictures, or at least not many, and those they either read in silence or read to each other or even Kara.

She doesn’t understand them, obviously, but . . . it’s . . . nice, she thinks. 

She actually thinks they might be stories, not just records. Especially the ones with pictures in them. 

So it’s very nice, that Ma and Pa are sharing those with them. Very . . . very kind. 

In the settlement, Ma and Pa introduce Kara and Kal by slightly different names, and everyone calls them Mar-Tha and Jona-Than, not Ma and Pa. Kara thinks maybe this planet has private names on top of their public ones, though she’s not actually certain. 

They call her “Ka-Lair” and call Kal “Ka-Lum” to the other aliens, though they pronounce them a little oddly–“Claire” and “Callum”, more like. Or that’s as close as Kara can get, anyway. Sometimes they say “Ka-Lair Zo-El Kent” and “Ka-Lum El-Ot Kent”–Kara’s not sure why Kal gets the Laborer title attached to his name too, but supposes it must be because children on this planet are associated with their guardian’s guild until they’re old enough to choose their own–though again, the pronunciation is a little odd. More like . . . “Claire Zoelle Kent” and “Callum Elliot Kent”, she thinks. 

Most of the other aliens in Smoll-Veel are kind, but none of them are as kind as Ma and Pa. Ma and Pa are . . . they’re so kind. Ma teaches Kara how to make her “pye”, and Pa teaches her how to play a catching game with a small white ball and a peculiar webbed glove and sometimes a stick to hit the ball with, and they both teach her how to work on their little farm and help her take care of Kal. They’ve even gotten him his own little bed, with tall fenced-in sides so he can’t roll or climb out of it, and set it up in a bedroom for him and her to stay in together, with a closet full of clothes for them both and a box of toys for Kal and a shelf of thin paper records with pretty pictures inside of them that they read to him from every night after “supper”. 

She thinks Ma is female and Pa is male, now, and is mostly certain that they’re either mated or married or whatever this planet does, not related or just friends. Definitely not just coworkers, either way. They still call Kal’s toy dog “Krippo” instead of “Krypto”, but given Kara’s problems getting her own tongue around their language’s words, she’s not going to hold it against them. Kal understands what they mean when they say it, so that’s all that matters.

She feels vulnerable and uncomfortable whenever they’re off the farm, and sometimes even on it, but . . . but Ma and Pa are so kind, and it’s hard to feel uncomfortable with them.

Vulnerable, maybe, but not quite in the same way as she does out in Smoll-Veel.