#I tried using their color palettes vaguely

[ricky-mortis]

Inspired by @considerablecolors silly little ofmd/saf crossover-ish fic (“Running In The Shadows (Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies)”).

Also shoutout to them for making me absolutely sob with another one of their fics (it’s called “All The Living Are Dead, And The Dead Are All Living (The War Is Over, And We Are Beginning)” and I cannot recommend is enough).

I love all their saf stuff on Ao3- Seriously go check them out.

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[pyrory]

sellbot cog redesigns!!!! :D thought process + extra design deets under the cut! (waning: its very long LOL)

cold caller: loosely based off of their tto trading card! rotary phone because uhhh. duh they call people, big pointy nose resembles icicle, elongated eyes / eye scopes? idk lol resemble allan. the shape of the receiver is supposed to resemble earmuffs almost? + little teefies

telemarketer: this is probably the most. vague design LOL but they're an auto-dialing machine! specifically based off of the one from the simpsons coz it.. felt fitting idk. i definitely took some liberties but they have a speaker mouth, an indicator bulb for a nose, and the cassette portion is their eye ^_^

name dropper: this was one of the harder names to translate into a design since it doesnt have any ties to any physical items / ideas? so i ended up just building upon their base design. the glasses and bun give them an uptight secretary vibe + gave them more droopy features such as a longer nose and hoop earrings to replace the old ones

glad hander: not much to say about this one. HAND!!!!! my original redesign for this had their eyes on their palm while the fingers sat on top but. idk. it felt more fitting for their hand to be in a fist while the eyes were on the fingers. it makes their middle finger look like a nose

mover & shaker: shaker -> salt & pepper shakers. ez pz. the lids look like little hats too

two face: this was a little tricky coz i like the double face look they originally had. but double talker already has that model and i think it fits them much more than it does two face. i cycled through a few different ideas but eventually ended up with this, inspired by the mayor from the nightmare before christmas & the way his head operates :P

mingler: nothing changed. literally perfect. mingler is peak cog design. just tweaked their colors and gave them a stronger head + hair shape that stands out against the others

mr. hollywood: same with name dropper & mingler, they have a vague name thats hard to interpret BUT the og design was already so good there wasn't much to change Anyways. i was subconsciously inspired by Something while designing them but i dont know what, i guess 50s celebrities? also inspired by ernesto de la cruz from coco!

as a general rule of thumb: i stuck to the same color palette for all of these designs (except for the blue in cold caller & two face. obviously) in order to communicate the fact that they're from the same department. for the more human cogs i tried to separate different parts of the head using color & lines (forehead, cheekbones, chin, nose, etc) in order to give them a subtle robotic look but you can't really see it lol... i tried to keep their GENERAL head shapes but some of them wandered a little far

+ i actually made palettes for all of the cog departments to work on if i ever want to make more redesigns! i'll stick them here since they're on topic

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I love your animatronic toy OC guys so much, they have so much personality to them and their colours are really good (especially umbra)

Thank you! The funny thing about Umbra's design was that while I was developing it about two years ago and had some colors in mind, I described in text what I already came up with to an image generator for fun (shitty unconvincing old kind, vs now where it looks like shit but in a somewhat more convincing way) and it produced something so silly that I made her design better than what I would've settled with out of spite.

More details of my process and anti-AI ranting below the cut, so the examples given won't show up on search results. Google Images is getting polluted too much with slop to begin with.

Let's begin.

In 2022 I was drafting up Umbra's design with mostly concrete details. At this time image generators were newer and much less convincing, and I was a bit less aware of just how unethical they were, so I fed one a text description of what I had drafted for her design out of curiosity. Something along the lines of, "doll of an anthropomorphic owl librarian in glasses, blazer/suit jacket, skirt, corset, high heels, sitting on a bookshelf" and probably a few more terms. Really specific, lengthy prompt.

I try to be open-minded and give new things a shot, but the results were Not Great. Ideally, I'd want to not share the AI pictures at all on-principle, but I feel like it's useful, transparent, and necessary to show them. Both as a means of not hiding anything, but also just to appreciate where the design is at in spite of it.

Outside of this particular collage of Weird Owls, no other pictures on this blog are AI-generated. AI Image Generation is harmful, and I am against its usage.

But hey, two of the generated pictures look close, right? The top left is the closest, and bottom right is second.

That's because they started out worse, and I had to actually erase chunks of them and have the generator fill in the blanks to get anything remotely close to what I wanted. Misshapen limbs, unrecognizable anatomy, fever-dream clothing details, etc. They didn't even have a corset or proper legs until I slapped the generator in the face enough times to make it produce them. I was just using it to photobash, which was such an annoying process, I just went "this is dumb" and stopped. They're literally posed like that because I kept erasing and regnerating their limbs until they looked vaguely in-character. It literally only looks passable thanks to STRANGLING it with human input.

Before I used the image generator, I already drafted her to be night-themed with yellow eyes and something like purple, dark blue, or sky-blue as her main color; the generator making one owl yellow-eyed and purple was a happy coincidence, and the only thing the generative AI "came up with" that I didn't already have in mind or included in the prompt was the light blue shirt, which I did adapt into her cyan shirt and stockings/socks as well. That was a good call. You get One Point, Mr. AI.

...Which still meant that at its absolute best, it was a largely redundant step in the creative process if its contribution was worse than what a randomized palette generator or character creator could come up with.

That's already putting the ethics of it aside, like carbon emissions, data pollution, using artists' and photographers' work without credit or permission, the incentive to plagiarize, flooding sites like deviantart with slop, Willy Wonka Shit, etc etc etc. When people say "you can use AI as a tool though", this ordeal was enough to convince me that it's more trouble than its worth, even in its most ethical usage. I feel gross for having even tried. I wish I knew what sources went into the creation of those Weird Owls. It'd be better for research if the right people could be credited.

Nothing else on this blog is AI-generated or ever will be. The art below is purely my own (2022 vs a few weeks ago)):

Actually drawing Umbra and solidifying her design was far more rewarding than having an image generator vaguely approximate my own ideas. I wanted her to look really special, so I used a black cape and pants, gold highlights and buttons, and blue undertones to make something more distinct. Also, neck floof. Very important. I wanted the head in particular to look distinct and original, going with bold black streaks to really help her look distinguished.

I also have certain inevitable Hydroisms for Fancy characters like her; most apparent in these designs for Chasey and Kaita from even longer ago, which were more of an influence than anything else. (Old art of mine from like 2021, Kaita ref looks wonky but Chasey still holds up nicely):

Most of Umbra's other design elements were already commonly used with established ocs like Kaita, like her shape language, corset, skirt, heels, etc. It was my previous work with Chasey that inspired the use of gold buttons and highlights.

Umbra is also now a bluer shade of purple partly to distance the current design from that ordeal. All things considered, I'll probably make her more indigo next time. I already wanted her to have a wide color range from the get-go (Featured below is, again, purely my art from 2022:)

I may use a different colored shirt and stockings in the future. I like to think she has many different shirts and clothes based on the different stages of the night sky, from dusk to dawn, and the painting I made in the top right there was an exploration of her range in different lighting.

All in all, it's frustrating. I'm proud of her design, but explaining all of this is annoying, because it's technically all relevant to showing how her colors were picked and how the design was made. I still technically have AI to """Thank""", in the way you thank a bad experience for encouraging you to make things better out of spite.

[livewire11211]

I have fallen in love with the villain leo au by @starrcrossrose and the kendra au by @xinrouska. So here's a fanart of maybe what it would be like if Leo and Kendra met again after she's turned over a new leaf.

This is the first I've tried to use a limited color palette, and I tried my hardest with these, but I could def feel my skills were lacking while making them. They didn't turn out quite how I'd hoped, everything got very dark without enough contras but I’m done fidgeting with it. And I learned a lot still, and I like them enough. Besides, I'm old enough I've finally gotten to the point that every time I create something I try to re-learn to love the process of art over what the final piece is.

links to fanfics, websites, and references used under the cut.

Villain Leo AU website here & the fanfic link here

Kendra AU website here & the fanfic done in collab with @rosesofenvy here

Specifically had the following up while drawing:

Xinrouska's art of Kendra (as well as the outfit) here

Xinrouska's art of Leo here

very vaguely based Leo's pants on this

[jmeestella]

Okay, I have never done anything like this before, But I need to get this random thought out of my system. Small analysis and thoughts of color theory in tales of arcadia: Why I thin Gaylen Krel could be a real thing

I really like Gaylen Krel concept and here is a little speech about why I think it would be interesting with a very vague concept of color theory (it's actually just my my totally altered perception of reality and boredom).

(An apology if anything here sounds weird, English is not my first language).

I do not think it is necessary to say that this has spoilers for the entire saga of tales of arcadia if you haven't watched it

Some extra alert, I may be editing this constantly, since I may notice some new stuff and since my english may improve jsjs

So, there you have, the 3Below squad, as akiridions, all of them are basically blue, all equal, nothing to say here, this is clear, BUT- I think something interesting happens when they are in their human desguise: the predominant color is red.

In Aja it is easy to see this in her shirt and shoes, the only blue element is her jeans, For Varvatos it's a little less obvious, but both his shoes and his jacket are also red (His pants are a kind cream color (?), which like red are warm colors, the only cool color element is his shirt), and then we have Krel, basically all his color palette is blue, cold colors, The only red element is his shoelaces, which is hard to notice.

Someone once told me: ok, but Krel skintone is really warm, and this supports my theory, all the characters have most of their warm colors ON THE OUTSIDE, but Krel, aside from his cold clothes HAS THE WARM COLOR INSIDE HIM, HE'S THE WARM COLOR.

And just like fun fact, like, BRO- even the dog is designed in warm colors 🙃

It seems to me that this could represent a bit how difficult it is for them to fit in being themselves (?) after some point I''l explain this

Another extra parenthesis, I find it curious that in the TOA saga the blue color palette predominates in characters that are "not-human", Like Jim who becomes a troll, or Douxie who's a 900 years old wizard.

And it seems to me another important detail that Claire and Toby represent a little about this dynamic of cold and warm colors.

Toby is orange and red, warm colors = human. He was human and he¿ll be a normal human forever.

Claire is purple, closer to red, but still cold= normal human but a wizard (a kind of transition?)

Together, The path of the chromatic circle represents how they move away from being human. You can check de crromatic circle here:

Douxie does not seem to have any predominant color temperature, he wears neutral colors, this may be because he wants to go equally unnoticed in both worlds, but the detail is in his eyes, normally his eyes are amber (yellow, warm color) but when he uses magic they become blue like his magic itself.

Anyway, I don't want to stray too far from the topic.

It's been a long time since I watched the serie, But I think we even have a whole chapters on that topic. Aja even with problems at the end she fit quite easily as a human, For Varvatos, socializing is a weirder experience, but in the end he has his thing with Nancy and is quite accepted among the other older adults, But we get a whole episode of Krel feeling bad because he doesn't think anyone will remember him, because he never quite fits in.

Long short story if you already see the serie, no much what to say on that, good ending to everyone.

Aja although she tried hid in the human red, in a human disguise, in the end she fully accepts her responsibility and decides to live in the blue that she was born, as the akiridion she is, while Krel, Despite being the most insistent in wanting to have his life back in Akiridon-5, Krel Krel who wanted to hide behind the blue of what he considers his identity, he decides to live like the human he feels like.

But wait. don't missunderstood me, This for both of them is neither good nor bad, neither of them rejects their nature, and I think this is an important part of 3below, embrace who you love and who you are, part akiridion and part human.

I think you may be getting my point: For them being blue is actually good, because at the end they are not human, they just are who they are, And they proudly show their true colors, and they actually do it in a very literally way jjsjsj

BUT-

Here we have. Blue vs red.

I need to be honest here, at this point this becomes more imagination than anything, but I think you all might agree with me.

Gaylen represents many things that an akiridon should not be, And what color is him? Oh of course it's red, a fucking warm color.

Speaking of my theory that warm = more human, I find it curious to point out that Gaylen only has 2 arms, wich is very human for the royal ones.

I saw many people talking in many places here on thne internet that it seemed that Krel and Aja woul be a heirs of Seklos and gaylen, some in the figurative sense of "oh yes, don't let yourself be corrupted by power and be good people" and others in the literal sense. I believe both are true in some way.

There could be many things here but as I said it's a lot of imagination. Was it really a mere coincidence that Gaylen's core was on Earth? Are the colors a coincidence?

Here is a series of points that you yourselves can connect.

The cores of the tarron parents are blue. Probably any akiridion core is also blue. Cold Color

Heartstones are orange, warm colors.

Gaylen Core is purple, but he wasn't an Akiridion? shoul't it be blue? oooh, look a the chromatic circle, purple is just aside froom de red. May be healing?

Let's say Gailen and they would have been more than a vague part of the lore, following what was said before, that Aja's nature is blue and Krel's is red, it is easy to say who is who's heir each one, but Seklos is not seen nowhere, was she really destroyed or is she somewhere else? There are many suspicious places for me, the shadow realm, the darklands, I'm just saying...

I don't know how the whole thing could happen to get in the story to get to the point of Gaylen Krel, but there's my final though: After that, his new red colors could represent a lot of things, maybe the warm colors really only represented a nature that lost of magic and in the end we were all always meant to be magical (?) just saying that, for example, Toby's grandmother has lived suspiciously too long to be a normal human, perhaps he is not as human as they wanted us to believe. That would also be an interesting door to explain why Toby's presence was really necessary from 3Below.

Bu hey, I want some angst, what would meant that Krel is Gaylen's heir? He's a akiridion after he becomes like him? maybe he¿s something more, something weird or strange, not akiridion at all, not human at all

Under this theory, it is similar to what Jim went through as a half-troll, although it is predominantly blue, the eclipse details are red cause after all he's still Jim, that human boy that we all love, and that was sacrifice and change was somtething needed to be made bt doen't change him at all, they both had to become like this, and after all, Krel would still being Krel.

Just I would like to think of a parallel to Jim's breakdown when he becomes a troll but with Krel changing drastically when he becomes Gaylen's heir. Imagine the team trying to catch him to help him and cheer him up because, yeah, by this point in the story, since when did the team care about who they were o are?, and like the cherry on the cake, instead of the legendary Jlaire scene of "no matter who you are, I love you" we might have some cute confort sibilings moment with the same vibe but with "whatever you are, you will alway be my little brother, "

Someone please tell me I'm not crazy with all these thoughts, I am traumatized with TOA

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/27/2024

this is the longest ive ever been unemployed and media is only doing so much to beat back the horrors. so let’s talk about the media instead of the horrors

listening

Come Up For Air by We The Commas, off i think one of the autogenerated spotify indie mixes?

sort of a rollicking modern little surf rock thing, they describe themselves as "surf and alternate rhythm and blue" which is pretty bang on imo. they're all brothers (their last name genuinely is Comma, which i salute as a fellow weird last name haver), and cite john mayer (i don't really hear it) and the beach boys (yes i hear this very much) as some of their influences. a song i had on loop for an entire forty minute drive and did not get tired of. spotify

-

reading

three books that MUST go back to the library tomorrow bc their autorenew is up and i was emotionally unable to get a library card without tooling around and getting a stack of books a month ago.

thank you philip.

i really only liked the Carmilla adaptation by Amy Chu, bc it really gets at what i didn't realize was the heart of the original 1872 lesbian vampire novella: a toxic gay housing situation you have fallen into and can't get out of bc your area is so so so expensive and housing is so so so tenuous. i have read the original but not in a while, this is an excellent modern adaptation centering around a nyc social worker in the late seventies that presupposes no knowledge and intertwines the original novella in the form of a stolen rare book. (nonconsecutive pages)

i don't have much to say about the DC young adult comic about the circus career of one of the Robins (Dick Grayson). i didn't love the loose artstyle and am not in its intended age range plus it had a bit too much therapyspeak, but it did have a clever use of a very limited color palette.

let's yank the amazon description for the detective novel, which i grabbed bc it vaguely pinged something in my brain about one of the fallout 4 sidequests and i've picked books up for worse reasons (SPOILERS):

Jacob Rigolet, a soon-to-be former assistant to a wealthy art collector, looks up from his seat at an auction—his mother, former head librarian at the Halifax Free Library, is walking almost casually up the aisle. Before a stunned audience, she flings an open jar of black ink at master photographer Robert Capa’s “Death on a Leipzig Balcony.” Jacob’s police detective fiancée, Martha Crauchet, is assigned to the ensuing interrogation. 

i simply fucking hated this authorial style and tone and ditched it two chapters in. i don’t currently have the patience for reading about a clinically insane mother and hate crimes against Jewish people. despite the fairly dark premise, the first two chapters veer into cozy mystery with very short sentences, which do not a noir make. now, it does not advertise itself as noir or neo-noir, but as an homage to noir. it is for me unbearably smug. in my most unkind heart of hearts i want to say it's like if wes anderson tried to make a noir. this is a book that wants you to know it has read other noirs. yes thank you ive read several others, that’s why im reading this one, stop reminding me of better books i could be reading.

there's some weird descriptions of womens' bodies in here. chandler (my beloved) is certainly guilty of this as well, but he lavishes a sort of equal opportunity eye on the men in his mysteries. cf the infamous daniel lavery description.

when i read a chandler description of someone’s physical appearance there’s a fruity bisexual aftertaste in my mouth. Howard Norman, below, saying a woman takes great care of herself puts my hackles up. i understand the difference between an author and a character believing something and i don’t want to read a book where either the author or the character have this sort of pitying condescension towards a woman’s body. im feeling extremely terrible about my own body right now due to the various maladies, and another sort of breaking point for me is when an author repeatedly describes "naked breasts" (exact wording) pressing against someone's torso. it feels so juvenile. that's the sexiest thing you can possibly think of??? that's the sexiest way you can think of to describe an early mornign moment of intimacy???? augh i read the NYT review and it gets worse.

shut the FUCK up. i left my apartment at 1130 PM to go put this book in my CAR. i don't want it in my HOUSE.

-

watching

Bullitt (1968, dir. Yates, free on Tubi). the baddie in this is Robert Vaughn (who i know from cowboys), a guy i fucking love to see. i can take or leave Steve McQueen but he does such a killer job parallel parking in this movie and i wish all driving movies made their leads parallel park. shockingly realistic hospital, morgue, and police work scenes, apparently was one of the big films to popularize blood squibs. also love to see a haunted man splash water on his face and stare into a mirror.

if you asked me how long the famous car chase was i would have said like 2:30? substantial but snappy. no!!! eleven minutes!! (video a bit trimmed). also a rare movie that makes a foot chase through an airport as exciting as that eleven minute car chase!!!

the mob dodging plot was a little hard to follow, but i was operating on like four hours of sleep and a rum and coke. this has got to be a tremendous movie to watch when you’re home and sick on the couch huddled under a blanket. i mean this as a compliment, as someone who watches Escape from New York whenever i feel very sick

-

playing

really wanted to get to 69 shrines before writing this post and finally did it. all the little divine beasts walking along the loading screen are SO cute i've never gotten all four before

all the divine beasts are unlocked and the champions laid to rest! im feeling some type of way emotionally speaking about all of them telling link IMMEDIATELY that it wasn't his or zelda's fault they died

rudania has the worst boarding mission (in order of ones i most enjoyed it's camel [SO fast and SO fun], bird [lots of time to think and plan and aim], elephant [did not make me do a tedious stealth mission but i am bad at locking on to rapidly moving things behind me, much like in real life], and lizard. the lizard stealth mission is simply unpleasant). however, my brain really clicked with the puzzles in rudania: i had to consult a walkthrough once for an optional chest. in order of interior beast puzzle enjoyment for me it's lizard, bird, elephant, and camel. really got stuck for a long time on the waterwheels with the elephant before consulting a walkthrough.

the yiga clan stealth mission was not as hard as i thought it would be. i don't know why i put that off for two real life weeks but i will not learn my lesson and i will never improve. this boss battle was just silly.

the vah naboris interior puzzles were not fun. idk what it was about them or my brain that made me have such a bad time, but i spammed revali's gale and skipped a lot of chests bc i was not having fun. this is why god invented the walkthrough but sometimes. shit is just too fiddly.

i did succeed on the thunder ganon boss battle first try, but i came in with extra hearts from mipha's grace, used another mipha's grace in the fight, went through five fairies and seven hearty simmered fruits that were 5x durians (which gives you 20 extra hearts or some shit). fucking nightmare. i was stuck on one hit left on ganon for like five minutes bc he got stuck in the very fast flurry attack cycle. unpleasant. deeply grateful it only made me smack him with the magnesis pillar once bc that was also really fiddly with my poor reaction time + poor fine motor skills + previously mentioned ancient controller with some drift. in order of boss battle enjoyment i think it's lizard (made me think and kept me on my toes a little but i did have to look up how to break the shield), elephant (you can just kind of tank it), bird (same), and camel (extremely not fun).

this was WITH a fully upgraded gimp suit btw. that shit (ganon) just hits hard.

shrine shenanigans:

crowned beast very fun, i have one or two of kass' songs left and then i hope i get to see him back in rito village with his family??? a little nervous bc i went right to the jungle spring without hearing his song first so idk if that will. count??? or softlock me.

the MOUNDS of failed cooking attempts around this shrine on the grasslands side of the gerudo barrier mountains were SO funny.

unlocked all the spring shrines. what a fun mission. what a fun climb.

went to my FAVORITE shrine!!! going into what you think will be a normal cave and discovering it is DEEP with a BIG WHALE INSIDE is top three video game whale moments (the other two are diving with the whales in ABZU and meeting the last whale in the first dishonored).

other bits and bobs:

eggman rocks???

this quest was really cute and i wish there was a corresponding quest for the guy hanging around the broken heart pond, but it always makes me laugh whenever a dragon shows up in the background of a screenshot. a really great touching moment but watch out for the elemental orbs rapidly approaching us

also made me chortle. get it together barta.

i wish the helm was upgradable but i think making me kill a molduga in order to borrow it is a pretty fair trade actually.

-

making

i originally had a really long thing here about litterbox trials and tribulations but i have decided to spare you all. you're welcome.

many balcony improvements, including putting up trellises and installing bird spikes to hopefully keep a very persistent orange tom off my balcony and away from my girls.

there are a goofy number of obstacles in the way of me making a proper planting diagram (sketchbooks buried deep in closet. flung the seeds in a box on a shelf i need to find my stepstool for. can't find pencil sharpener) so for the second week in a row that's not happening. however, sprouts.

baby italian lettuce blend

bush beans in the front and cucumbers + sweet peas in the back.

[eric-the-bmo]

Alice has a different hair color now, shown by a wip! [new/old]

To expand on the decision, bc I like to ramble:

I like characters with black hair, plain and simple. Hehe ☆<3

Changing her hair color is Strange for me, because she's always been blonde in every iteration- but the black really helps add to the cool color palette she's got going on, and draws attention to the warmer colors on her pins.

She's always been vaguely inspired by Alice in Wonderland- The real-life inspiration for Alice had black hair, while the fictional Alice is blonde; so it would be really fitting, then, if her physical body had black hair while her fae mien was blonde! (and hopefully I can design the rest of her fae mien around this, so the colors can look Good with her appearance)

If she ever falls into Bedlam, I can have a scene where she tries to bleach her hair to match her fae mien! That'd be really fun, I think

It'll def take a while to get used to her new hair, since I never really majorly redesign OCs? I also suppose I can add the lowkey paler part of her hair into her fae mien, too ☆

Anyway that's all byeee! ♤☆

[braisedhoney]

please tell me about the pigments i would love nothing more than to hear you talk about that one shade of red you like and the process it took too recreate it

... oh, op. you have no idea what you've unleashed.

alright. here we go.

OKAY SO THE RED PIGMENT. pr206. my beloved. my dearest friend. it was an absolute bastard to find because there are so many of these. however many you think there are, there are MORE, and that's only if you don't count the many many scenarios where colors are known to be multi-pigment mixes, usually varying in tone/shade/intensity depending on the brand and manufacturing style. some colors are more consistent than others, but there are situations where a color can be named the same and contain the same pigments and STILL look wildly different depending on the ratio, binder, and paper you use. and that's not accounting for the way the pigment is processed. some pigments (like pv19 for example) can come in so many shades it's frankly kind of ridiculous.

anyway, my quest begins when i am, admittedly, in an edgier phase. i want a blood red, but not specifically because of that—no, i want it because it is THE IDEAL COLOR (to me) for a perfect, warm, slightly muted but still intense shade to add to a muted autumn watercolor palette. and... if you look at my whole theme, you probably know how much i love warm colors. i want to paint mushrooms. i want to dim down some of the brighter greens to make them autumnal. i want the perfect red to put as an undertone.

the search starts in earnest.

the immediate issue is this: reds (and purples and pinks) have horrifically bad lightfastness. not all of them, mind, but many are NOTORIOUS for fading under uv light, which means they will also fade if exposed to sunlight even in passing should it happen often enough. and—in especially bad cases where they're essentially working with dye and not pigment—they can even fade inside your notebook. inside of a drawer.

so not only are we working with an unfortunate pigment base (i'm simplifying here, there's way more nuance to this but shh) but we are working with one that skews heavily toward floral pinks or oranges. the red i'm searching for is warm, but not orange. dries dark but not brown. is transparent, not opaque. that last part is agonizing, because i also desperately do not want a color that will fade on me or generally destabilize, and most of the stable dark red pigments are EARTH pigments like red ochre (pr101) or the like. which, while fascinating because of their historical usage in things like pottery and even cave paintings that last to the modern day, are VERY OPAQUE. this is an issue with my preferred style of watercolor painting specifically, because opaque pigments tend to lift easier off the page and limit layering.

the search continues. pigment after pigment breaks my heart for one reason or another, drying too close to the cooler purpleish-red tint of wine at best. i think i find it in perylene maroon, but the drying shift (the difference between how a color looks wet vs after it dries on the paper) is so extreme that it loses the luminosity AND it's more opaque than most. i languish.

for a while my search turns to creation. i try and mix as many of my single pigment colors as i can into something that vaguely resembles what i'm looking for—so i take quinacridones and mix them with napthols, with nickel azos, with dashes of ultramarines and burnt sienna. everything turns out either just a bit too opaque, just a bit too muddy (that happens with multi-pigment mixtures, and is why so many people swear by single pigment colors. it's personal preference, really, great art can be made either way.)

still, nothing works. failure haunts me. i sit before a pile of used up watercolor paper that is literally covered edge to edge in nothing but similar red squares with various gradients and blooms as evidence of when i tried and failed to convince myself my efforts were close enough. i admit defeat.

in the meantime i shift my focus. i try and appreciate different color palettes and profiles, experimenting with things like fully transparent palettes (personal favroite) to fully opaque ones that function more like gouache. but despite finding appreciation for it, i still think about the damn red that i could never recreate. it kills me.

and then one day, a youtube video. a pigment is being discontinued, and the watercolor community is distressed. this happens a lot, because pigments are actually not always popular because of artists—sometimes beloved colors are put out of production because larger markets like car companies no longer find them popular enough to invest in. this time, the casualty is pr206, aka brown madder, aka quinacridone burnt scarlet.

let me tell you a little about quinacridones. they are genuinely remarkable colors. they have their own cult followings because of how bright and abnormally stable they are under uv light. they're transparent. they're luminous. they come in mostly shades of red and pink and purple, though there are a couple oranges and yellows in there. (there are no quinacridone blues, as far as i'm aware, but the phthalo blues have that category covered.) they also rewet beautifully, so you can put them on your palette and let them dry and not worry about it turning into a useless little rock of color that you can't get any pigment from anymore.

quinacridone magenta (pr122) is probably the most popular of these, the most often used besides maybe quinacridone violet (pv19). a few years prior we suffered the loss of quinacridone gold (po49) and since then people have been On Alert when it comes to losing these colors. i am one of them, because i never got the chance to even see po49 in person, and now the tubes are so stupid expensive that even the student grade versions go for Ridiculously High Prices on ebay, and the professional brands are being hoarded like (ironically) gold by anyone lucky enough to have a tube left over.

but back to our main character. not me, the pigment. pr206. i have legitimately never heard of this one, which to be fair is probably because i try to limit the random colors i fixate on since the hobby can easily get VERY expensive if you aren't careful. but it's a quinacridone, and that catches my eye.

i open the video.

now, i'm sure any artist out there will be familiar with the fact that screens don't display color consistently. it depends on your device, but most can agree that something that looks cooler on one may be warmer on the other, it's just what happens. but i see this color being swatched, and my brain implodes.

it's almost a perfect match.

it could work. it could. years of thinking that same thought have left me bereft and mistrustful of this specific quest marker, but the thought refuses to leave me. probably because the 'discontinued' label flashes like a neon sign.

i resist for about six months, and then i cave. at this point i have genuinely been trying and failing to find this color for upwards of five years. i am desperate, and the color might not be available anymore soon anyway, and apparently i am weak to sales pitches. (note: the color IS now unavailable in some brands, but others bought a decent supply and should have it available for at least a little while, alongside po48 which is quinacridone burnt orange, a favorite of mine and probably one of the only oranges i use regularly. both are discontinued officially, but they'll still be on sale till those supplies run dry.)

the color arrives. i grab my favorite brush. i pull out my stash of paper that i save for special occasions.

it's almost perfect.

i mix it with quinacridone burnt orange.

the result is, i swear, a perfect match for what i have been searching for.

it's warm. it dries dark but not dark enough to look brown. it keeps its luminosity (thank you quinacridones). it's fully transparent (thank you quinacridones). i genuinely feel the urge to weep, but i don't because i am clinging at last to the dredges of my sanity and also salt makes watercolor pigments behave differently and i will not risk this glorious moment. finally, after all these years, bill cipher has a gun i found the goddamn COLOR.

i mix it with warm yellows and with my favorite blues. with the pinks, just to laugh. life is beautiful and i am painting its sunsets, and i do not care if they look ridiculously messy. i have won.

the moral of the story is to never give up. or maybe it's to remember you never actually know everything about even the fields you love the most, because this color totally blindsided me despite being much more common than i expected. or maybe it's that i seriously needed to chill out for a while.

but yes. that is the tale of one (1) of the colors that has taken up residence in my soul. i hope you don't regret asking now lmao.

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

Tbh the reason AI can't replicate reality in a realistic way is simply because you can't recreate reality. You can simulate reality, sure. But to properly recreate reality isn't possible. The reason that is is because there are no lines in real life. Images are made up of pixles and real life is made up of billions of hyper-complicated things. I can very easily see the distance of the doll on my desk to the wall. Can I tell you *what* the distance is? No, but I can see how far the doll is from the wall. Computers can't do that. They think in numbers as they are forced to decipher *flat* images. To get an AI to create an even semi realistic reality would be ung_dly expensive because you would have to teach the AI using real life distance and form, not just letting it calculate how far or what form is what from a flat image. But again, cameras can't see distance and form in the same way human eyes do. Cameras can only capture a flat image and have to decipher through said flat image. AI doesn't understand the complexities of how things move, look, or even sound because it can't look at it the way a pair of eyes could. I *know* how much I have to extend my arm to touch something, because I can see how far away it is. I know where my posters begin and end, not because of *just* a color difference or hue change, but because I can *see* exactly where they end. Computers will never be able to replace artist, maybe in the mainstream industry BUT they are still going to have to hire real artist to make their content because AI can't produce exactly what you want because it can't think like a human brain. There are companies who've tried to use AI to replace certain aspect and it's proved to be so frustrating that these animators are forced to reanimate the ai work, because it just *isn't* what they wanted or need for the project.

AI assistant tools can certainly be helpful to artists, especially in the industry. But the fat cats in Hollywood already know they can't *actually* get rid of us, because their silly robots just don't do it right.

all of this is true yes and I think moreso even without questioning the reality of human perception there is just the fact that ai doesn’t think in the same way a conscious being does. text algorithms don’t generate compelling (or, let’s be real, comprehensible) narratives because they work by stringing together words one by one — every singular word is followed by the most likely next singular word based on whatever database the model is using. ai can’t write unique characters or dialogue or even navigate most plot holes because it doesn’t have a memory of what it’s said beforehand and even if it did it wouldn’t have a larger context to place its writing within

the same goes for image algorithms. sure, an ai can give you can approximation of a knight, but the armor is going to be completely nonfunctional if you examine it even a bit. an ai can give you a room with the prettiest color palette in the world, but there’s also going to be a hole in the ceiling with a branch going through it because it doesn’t understand the concept of skylights beyond knowing vaguely what they look like. regardless of whether or not what it’s doing counts as “thinking” (though I do think there’s a pretty clear answer to that), what ultimately matter is that an ai is incapable of thinking critically. you can give an image algorithm a prompt like “add flowers in foreground” yes but you’re never going to succeed with a prompt like “follow the laws of physics”

[blood-darkened-moon]

Alfred, Alexia, and the Dragonfly

The infamous video of Alfred and Alexia torturing a dragonfly and feeding it to the ants can be found twice on Rockfort Island. The first time, you see it in the room with the Lugers and then again in Alfred’s office as the startup of his PC. Of course, it has a deeply person meaning to Alfred. We know about his obsession with his sister, and Alexia is in there as well. Maybe the video is the only one with her or the last one that was taken before her cryogenic sleep. It makes sense that Alfred would hold dear something like this. But is it just about Alexia, or is there more to it? After all, we even have to watch it twice.

The twins do not talk the entire time and barely interact during the video. The only noteworthy interaction happens during the last scene, in which Alfred and Alexia share a knowing gaze. The way they look at each other makes it clear that there is more to the whole scene than what meets the eye. It had a deeper meaning, which only they could understand. A secret they share with each other. Words are not necessary.

When I first played Code Veronica X, I assumed the video mainly existed to show the cruel and twisted nature of the twins, while it also foreshadowed what Alfred would become. But after replaying the game last year, I changed my opinion. The video isn’t about Alfred and Alexia’s general cruelty or torturing of defenseless creatures. The content represents something more personal to them - their revenge on Alexander.

It was never said when the video was recorded, but the twins aren’t small children anymore. Based only on their appearance, I would estimate them to be between 10 and 12 years old. Now, considering the content of the video, I think it was recorded after Alfred discovered the truth about their origin and after they came up with a revenge plan as the earliest possible date. However, it is more likely that they had already executed their plan some time before.

Let’s take a closer look. First of all, the visual language. The ants symbolize Alfred and Alexia. Alexia sees herself as an ant queen and refers to Alfred as a soldier ant. The dragonfly is Alexander. It is more obvious for Alexia’s third form, but Alexander’s mutated form resembles a dragonfly too. He has three appendages on his back, similarly arranged like three of four wings of a dragonfly. Additionally, these appendages are long and thin, like insect legs. In Darkside Chronicles, he even uses them to move around. Also, Alexander’s real legs are bound together with the rug, which makes his lower body look vaguely like the elongated abdomen of the insect. The belts even give it a segmented appearance.

The last similarity isn’t related to the real animal but to an item. To activate the self-destruct system, you have to assemble a dragonfly key. On the underside of this key is a prominent red jewel in the middle of its thorax, similar to Alexander’s exposed heart.

The dragonfly in the video is rather large. It has a blue abdomen with black markings and a yellow thorax. I tried to find out what dragonfly species we see there and found three possible candidates. One is the green hawker (Aeshna viridis), another is the southern migrant hawker (Aeshna affinis), and the last one is the emperor dragonfly (Anax imperator). (I’m not a dragonfly expert, though. Maybe there are other ones that fit better.)

The abdomens of the green hawker and southern migrant hawker are also blue, the thorax is yellowish-green, and they have black markings on their bodies. The emperor dragonfly has an apple-green thorax rather than a yellow one, but it would fit the other criteria. Other dragonfly species with a similar color palette have either more black markings, differently colored spots on the abdomen, a different body shape, or are too small. In all three cases, only the males have this coloration. The females are green or yellowish green instead of blue. Selecting a male dragonfly specifically could be another reference to Alexander. As for the emperor dragonfly and the southern migrant hawker, contrary to the green hawker, they also inhabit Great Britain, which delivers another connection to Alexander. And while Alexander is, of course, only an earl, not an emperor, an emperor dragonfly could still refer in a wider sense to his peer status.

From left to right: green hawker (male), southern migrant hawker (male), emperor dragonfly (male).

The general events of the video reflect what happened to Alexander. Only Alfred interacts with the dragonfly. He was also the one who initiated the revenge plot after discovering the truth about himself and Alexia, as well as the one who suffered subjectively more under his father. Alexia stays passive the whole time and only watches her brother, while in real life, she is the one who has carried out the experiments, not Alfred. However, even if she does not join her brother here, Alexia still contributes by providing an instrument to execute the allegorical revenge - her ants (and the virus in reality).

Instead of simply killing the insect, Alfred rips out its wings, making it incapable of flying away. Like the dragonfly, Alexander was still alive when he met his fate. The twins tranquilized their father before Alexia injected him with the virus, which caused his transformation. Afterward, Alexander’s confinement continued, and he was chained for years in agony, probably awaiting his death if he was still capable of having coherent thoughts.

The dragonfly’s death is not in vain. Feeding the insect to the ants serves a purpose. The ants can feast on it, and the colony can grow. Alexander’s life wasn’t wasted either. Alexia directed Alfred’s revenge plans from simply killing their father to using him for research purposes. Their “useless father” could contribute for once to Alexia’s research and the Ashford family. Even though the experiment was a failure, Alexia was still able to use the data she required from it for her benefit.

Why all the effort with the cryptic symbolism? Alexander was a terrible father. Probably not intentional, but this isn’t an excuse. He took the childhood of the twins for the sake of his own ambitions. He used Alexia to fulfill what he could not achieve and disregarded Alfred for not being as intelligent as his sister. Finding out that they were the result of a genetic experiment was the final straw, especially for Alfred. Their father then got what he deserved, according to them. Alfred hated Alexander with a passion. It must have been a great feeling to get rid of him, and to celebrate it, he (maybe Alexia too) wanted a keepsake. Direct photos or videos of their father were out of the question. Alfred even wrote in his diary that they have to be careful so that Harman (their butler) doesn’t discover what has happened to Alexander. The dragonfly video works well. It is cryptic enough that no one could understand its meaning without more background knowledge. People who see it randomly would assume it is a disturbing and slightly eerie home video. Alfred and Alexia, on the other hand, know exactly what it is about. It’s so important to Alfred because it does not only show Alexia but also their victory over Alexander. The insects are nothing more than involuntary actors. The real dragonfly and what is happening to it is secondary. The symbolic meaning behind the dragonfly’s death struggle holds significance.

Some notes as a closure that didn’t fit in the rest of the text: What makes the video so creepy, except for the circumstances you find it in, is the twins’ acting. Without them and out of context, the dragonfly video wouldn’t even be that unsettling if you consider some facts. The video was recorded in the Antarctic base. Dragonflies do not inhabit Antarctica. This means the dragonfly was bred there. The twins did not randomly catch it for the purpose of torture. What’s the purpose of breeding dragonflies? I assume it’s for (virus) research. We know that Umbrella performed experiments on other invertebrates. So, if dragonflies are bred in the lab anyway, why not use some as a protein source for the ants as well? More common insects for feeding ants would be mealworms and meal beetles, house crickets, flies and fly larvae, roaches, and plant lice, though. Also, dragonflies are predators and attack everything they can overpower, including other dragonflies. And unlike ants, they can fly. It makes sense to remove the wings first to prevent it from flying away or attacking the ants. Sure, ripping out its wings and not killing it first is still cruel, but at least the ants will take care of this soon.

[pegasister60]

Hey Peg! 👋

Hope you've been doing alright this month. Sooo, I got this sudden urge to doodle yesterday, and I wanted to try my hand at making an original shirt design for Chai in Hi-Fi Rush. And (predictably) the first prompt that came to mind was your AU, lol. So here's my take on an alternate shirt design for Security!Chai:

Titled: "Security's Super Star"

Base Design

"Spotlight" (variant)

I can't believe I made this on a whim, lol (do I actually have some semblance of skill after all?!). Some fun little notes:

Since he normally wears a lot of cool colors (with the exception of his shoes) as an inversion of his original design, I tried to stick to a palette that mainly consisted of varying shades of blue and purple (while trying not to blend in with his scarf much)

The stripe pattern in the lighting bolt is meant to be reminiscent of his electronic, battery themed shirt (which felt necessary, since that symbolism is technically part of his brand in-universe). Though I'm not sure if it gives off the same vibe, lol.

The Vandelay "V" acts as the center piece, and serves as the lightning's "impact" effect.

The star as a whole is meant to vaguely look like it's on some sort of stage (with "light" illuminating from behind, and the start of it's "shadow" being cast near the bottom).

I decided to fill out the remaining parts of the star with a circuit board pattern, just as another reference to his primary job. Honestly, I think the duality between being a security enforcer and a high profile stage performer is something that could spawn a really unique looking character design in general. Like just as an art prompt, it'd be an interesting challenge such radically different professions through a single outfit.

Anywho, I gotta get to sleep now, but I hope this was able to brighten your day somewhat 🙏

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

IM NEVER GOING TO SHUT UP ABOUT THIS ITS SO COOOOOOOLL

You’re so fucking good at art holy shit. I’m screaming I’m shouting I’m overjoyed!!! I’m so happy rn this has made my day. Joy!!

I also appreciate getting to see your thoughts bc they make me appreciate it more. This is so clever and visually appealing and it looks so nice. You did an amazing job!! Task fulfilled successfully!! I’m running out of words to use to express joy but I’m not just gonna scream on main.

Thank you for making all this cool stuff based on the words I put out. I care them lots and they make me happy and I hope you have a good day!! You’re very skilled and it shows holy shit—

[giggly-moon]

jumping onto the epic the musical oc train with my own babygirl Melia <3

- a seer along with a daughter of apollo, she inherited some of his powers surrounding prophecies, healing, light and music. she joins the crew a little bit after the war and some time after she escaped a shitty abusive arranged marriage (with a little bit of husband murdering), sneaking onto their ship and only revealing herself after they’ve already set out to sea again and now they’re stuck with her

- at first it’s hard for them to believe she’s actually a seer, because she does not at all act like you’d expect a seer to act. she’s too much of a coy, mischievous little troublemaker to be an all-knowing seer, right? nope.

- another thing she’s inherited from her father is that she’s very good with her words and knows how to use them to her advantage. she’s a very good liar and actor and will sweet talk whoever she can to get what she wants, acting all sweet and innocent to hide the fact that she’s actually little gremlin. she’s a tad manipulative but she never does it in a malicious way, it’s all about survival, baby.

- that being said, she also has some pretty bad trust and vulnerability issues. she’s practiced her whole life to hide what she’s really feeling or thinking, masking it with her smug and unbothered attitude. her acting skills are more of a defense mechanism.

- i feel like she and elpenor would have quite a bit in common, since elpenor joined the war at a very young age and melia was married off to some asshole at a very young age as well. so they both kinda feel like their childhoods were stolen from them and they never got to truly experience being a kid.

- the name melia means “honey”, which i initially chose just because i thought it was cute but now i think it could definitely be a reference to the way she acts all sweet and warm, like honey. but it’s also a huge inspiration for her color scheme, how she has a lot of the same colors as her father but her overall color palette would have more darker colors, consisting of colors like browns, oranges, and gold/yellows

- “honey” can also be used as a lil nickname for her

- she’s able to sense things relating to energies and spirits, and can pick up on the god’s powers and influence over things. like being able to immediately sense that odysseus is a warrior of athena. she’s also able to sense when danger is near

- due to her father being a god of music, certain energies that she picks up on can actually sound like music to her. like how in epic everyone has their own instrument or melodic motif, to her everyone’s energy or aura has a unique “song” to it if she pays enough attention to it. and like i said she can sense when danger is near, as in she can literally hear the danger motif in a sense.

- she may be a seer but she’s still pretty inexperienced with interpreting prophecies. smaller ones tend to be more straightforward, but big important ones can be very vague and overwhelming and full of metaphors and whatnot, a lot of her bigger prophecies she receives in her dreams and dreams tend to be rather confusing.

- she has these sun related markings all around her body that normally look like they’re just a somewhat darker shade than her actual skin tone, but when she uses her powers like receiving a big prophecy or healing someone then they all glow a soft golden color

- she’s not much of a fighter, she relies more on her words and her charm rather than physical strength or combat skills, but i feel like she would naturally be very swift and graceful and light on her feet. she’s also a very good dancer

- she and apollo don’t really have the closest relationship, but they do love each other and apollo tries his best to connect with her when he can, but she’s got too many walls built up so he’s often left unsure on how to get through them. she and hermes are pretty close though, he is her uncle after all and they have a very similar penchant for mischief and trickery, so he checks in on her quite often and he even aided her in the task of killing her husband.

- she does have her softer moments when she’s alone with someone (maybe even multiple people) that she trusts and feels comfortable with, where she lets the mask slip and some of her more genuine feelings start showing through. and when she’s close enough with someone then she’s very physically affectionate

- when it comes to tickling, she is a force to be reckoned with. she may look small and harmless and like she wouldn’t be able to win very many tickle fights, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in being smart and crafty.

- plus she is an evil teaser, she just searches for whatever type of teases will be the most effective on someone and when she does she is absolutely ruthless.

- she’s also very good at convincing people to help her get revenge on someone (or just wreck someone for no particular reason), either by blackmailing them or pulling out the puppy eyes, especially when it comes to someone who would be rather difficult for her to take down on her own.

- she’s usually down for helping someone else wreck someone as well, granted that it won’t obviously come back to bite her. she just loves the mischief

- one of her favorite things to do is to tickle someone and pretend that it was an accident, she thinks it’s so funny how they get all frustrated trying to call her out on it

- she honestly managed to keep her own ticklishness a secret from the others for an impressive amount of time, mostly because when she first met them she made sure she gave the impression that she was not one to be messed with. but as she warmed up to them and they warmed up to her they quickly found out just how not intimidating she actually is.

- she honestly prefers being on the giving end where she has at least some control over the situation, but as time goes on she starts realizing more and more that being on the receiving end isn’t so bad either. she doesn’t like being vulnerable in front of others, but in this case it’s a kinda good type of vulnerable yknow? so she warms up to it rather quickly

- that doesn’t mean she won’t put up a fight though, cause she absolutely will. she’s still a huge tease whether she’s the lee or the ler, constantly taunting you and trying to make you falter and get any kind of reaction out of you. as always if she can’t gain the upper hand physically then she’ll use her words instead.

- she’s not the easiest to fluster, as she’s taught herself to hide her emotions pretty damn well, but it isn’t impossible to get that shell to crack.

- something new that she discovered about herself is that the markings on her skin that glow when she uses her powers will also glow when she genuinely laughs, which is something that she finds particularly embarrassing. the markings are also extra ticklish, no matter what part of the body they’re on

- she’s very ticklish pretty much everywhere but her worst spots would probably be her ribs, sides and neck

[kuwdora]

January 7 - What art form would you like to try that you haven't—or, alternately, what art form have you tried that you most want to work on? -killabeez

KILLA!! What a great prompt, thank you for asking me an art question!

I spent the previous few years working on acrylic pours which has been amazing and fun and messy and a joy. but I could sense that I needed to shift gears eventually…

I’m getting back into intuitive/expressionistic painting again and some mixed media. I’m also looking forward to trying to develop some figurative drawing skills. I have not had the patience or inclination to work on my drawing skills before but I think I’ve reached the point where I really want to focus on drawing so I can do figurative abstract. Currently not very good at drawing shapes and people with any kind of intent or control. I’ve got a number of tutorials queued up for the new year. Did some practice in October and November sporadically. Have plenty of sketchbooks and even tracing paper to practice with.

I just need to put it all together and begin this new art practice and stick with it for awhile. I want to draw people, trees, plants. And cats. Been working on my doodle skills. Daily practice. Slow and purposeful.

Tools-wise I also was really fond of spray painting techniques that I tried. But I never have a good place to do that outdoors and I can't do that indoors. However I do have an air compressor and have practiced with that a little bit but I want to do more with that.

I would love do various kinds of acrylic pour galaxies with airbrush planets and nebulas, using some sponging and blending techniques too for starscapes. I had this vague idea to recreate the color palette of Star Wars planets that I kind of tried to some degree a few years ago but didn’t get too far with. It’s very cool. I just need way more practice! Here's some early practice with spray paint and later a masking attempt with a purple-y acrylic pour. The tall piece was an acrylic pour and later splattered with paint in my bath tub. Finished with a circle stencil and airbrushing for the spheres. It turns out I have to focus really hard to understand light/shadow.

I cleaned my room and hauled out a bunch of old paintings to stare at while I do some fresh warm-ups this month. I feel like I had stalled out with this kind of thing, but I think there's more I can do to express myself. Most of these I don't think have enough structure to ground the eye and whatnot, but that's why I've been staring at them off and on for a week while reviewing some inspiration videos and books. Been thinking more about color blocking and linework to help create structure.

I'm feeling adrift when it comes to sharing/posting art on various social media platforms because of the spam on Insta/Twitter (I was getting dozens of spam replies/DMs and requests for NFTs/probable theft). Not sure if to create a new sideblog or new tumblr for my art. Or if I want to rename my studio name that doesn't feel quite right anymore but I'm not ready to give up yet. Thinking about crossposting on dreamwidth/bluesky and image hosting. But really I need to keep warming my brain and brushes back up.

Anyway! Have some fresh art that I've practiced this week!

Acrylic on canvas board. Love me some quinacridone magenta on the left. The right piece has modeling paste and sand for texture. Gonna do some more layering on that.

January posting meme + claim a date - prompt me. Still writing about pretty much anything.

[uchiha-7thsingularity]

Fire on Fire (Rime x MC)

Wanted to do a songfic. Tried my best. Guess this is an early valentine's day fic. Might do one for that day. And one for felix with the song "You're so beautiful" but I am busy with exams. Wanted to try this writing prompt out. Might write for arcana later and my oc's origin.

Shooting stars miles away glisten the skyline. 

The black void???…

….umbra??……

…Twilight abyss?

In the dusk of midnight, a hollow stillness consumes the dimly lit halls of Black Thorne, gentle strides headed straight for the estates outdoors.

*thump* 

~creak 

(...) 

Pleased as ever by the fresh midnight breeze wafting his unnerved soul, rime proceeds to escort himself to the edge of the pond lily. Head forward and shoulders straight, his white-tipped nose twitches, as his brow furrows on the nightmare he had moments beforehand. 

White ashes fell from the crimson sky, bloody mournfall shattered, the undead corpses wailing all around. His fingers were numb. Heart beating rapidly in his eardrums like open gunfire across the battlefield. Breath sinking inside his clamped, dry throat waiting to break apart at any waking second. 

For five years. Rime wasn't kidding about crawling through nine levels of hell to escape to his past life…waiting for him. Or, so he assumed. In all honesty, the life before himself was a shitshow, since YOU appeared in his stead. Gaining his relic by sheer luck. Seeing his old pals (what's left of them) gather to lay their lives for a mere wannabe; try hard. A payaso! Worst. If nothing else to be stolen of his existence. Watching Felix (his ex-lover, friend, and colleague) dove head first into a full-on companionship with a past image of the man he used to strive to be. Chimed under his cold breath, "Mother always said I'm to romantic for my own good will."  For his household. For his found family. For his felix. Personally, for himself. 

Blossoms flourished in the greenhouse with a polished elegant color palette of warm tones in the spring season. Water droplets pitter-pattered against the stone floor and whiffs of lavender stealing the breath of an undead man. In a heartbeat, rime strided onto the floating stones toward the white-pillared done towering above the pond's clear surface. He slowly sucked in a breath, his long lashes fluttering at the greenery before him. The area felt like a solitude of peace.

Still; uplifting.

Calm; quiet.

Contentis ; is never-ending.

In conclusion, nothing precious in the end….story of his life. His ears drooped, flicking at the noises of nature surrounding him and the cursed manor. "Now fucking what?", his voice slithers upon death ears. Soft clicks skip across the pond's watery path toward him with a hollow echo. His fluffy ears flick leaving him to roll his shoulders back and straighten for his unwanted associate.

In retrospect, you had woken from a nap earlier to be relieved of exhaustion. So, to put it simply you were passing time wandering the foyers to look upon the paintings and statues to induce sleep.  Therefore, passing a closed covered window you peeked past the curtain only to admire a night sky. Instead of stars your vision glossed over the shadow inside the dome hanging his weary head. By the time you recognized your intentions you faced the one person who despised you for good reasons. Not enough to excuse his violent outbursts. Or snarky comments. Hardly to abandon his morals behind of favorable intentions.

Unsure you walk up behind his sluggish figure to vaguely see his dreadful, tensed expression. He truly seemed haunted by something. Not saying a word you lean against the railing of the dome….laying your gaze to rime's clenched fists around the wooden barrier. Whispers of every splinter of wood cracked underneath his pale fingertips. "You're dancing in the movies," gently coaxing him to avert his anguish. Tucking a strand of hair back you whistle, "My mother once said that to me. I asked her what it meant. She told me I left reality for a fantasy. And I needed to learn to balance the two not as one world, or separate, except as a result of my desires." Rime tilts his head, adopting an agitated statue. His fingers release the wooden balustrade in a huff. "Then I saw you…and I knew instantly." 

Your weird inquiries vexes his cold-hearted soul, needless to say he abides to the honey-suckle voice, shoulders slacking bit by bit. His pierced gaze fixed on you with his arms crossed covering his scar. Brows furrowed at your calm tone, "I didn't come back to life to be patronized by you,"bitterness seeped from him while tapping his foot. By a whim you step toward him slowly, his eyes immediately locks onto your gaze on him….and only him.

Stepping back again, the two of you avert your gaze somewhere else, aware of each other's motives. "You're honestly right, rime. Maybe it's 'cause I got a little bit older, maybe it's all that I've been through till now."

Slowly you step towards his awakened spirit again with the courage to face him head on no matter his tenacious insults.

"I like to think it's how you sometimes lean on my shoulder when it's just us two," his scent tickles my nose while he leans a bit closer, "And how I see myself with you."

His mind reels from your intoxicating scent. Afraid to say a word his toes curl in anticipation to hear his name roll off your tongue. For the recent times you've dared to notice his moods. Cook meals with him to catch him up on the starsworns' chaotic intentions the past few months. Advised him to act on his own terms, rather than strain himself to comfort those around him daily by putting a fake persona. Heart fluttered, but still you take his breath away and steal the things he once knew by heart. He wants to hate you. Needs to be rid of your sweet smile. Your contagious laughter. Your generous offers to redeem himself. But at what cost will come with that. "There you go again MC, saving me from out the cold. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Snickering as you puff your tinted cheeks raw from the chilled air.

"Fire on fire would normally kill us. Normally, their right….in our favor we're the embodiment of self-destruction." Slowly, but surely rime conjures a black flame in his right palm to pull you in closer by the waist. If it wasn't hatred he felt, it was desire. But this much desire unnerved him to the bone. More than his nightmares. 

Dead and buried he was lost. The resurrection changed nothing. (Together with you, I felt like a winner…of course the others think I'm out of control and say I'm a sinner.) He doesn't blame them. But he won't let anyone ruin the beautiful symphony you've shown to him by healing him in the past moments shared in secret. After his myriad attempts to scorch you to ashes. Now he doesn't know what he needs to be himself once more. Of course, your awed expression leaves him to wonder.

He hummed, "Enough with the jokes. We should head inside." Quickly nodding, you offer a soft smile while heading to the warm, secure vine manor. Not far behind, his chest ached with an familiar feeling. It wrecked him to see you walk away from him. Even if you were only just going a little ways ahead of him. Cynical and malicious voices carried on in the back of his mind as he washed the doubt away.

One day….when he was ready to confront his inner demons, regrets, and sorrows….would he chase the feelings guiding him to you. 'Cause, when you unfold him bit by bit; he will hopefully wait to hear your thoughts of him. In his trek, a whisper escapes low in his throat, "I want to look into your passionate eyes. And you look into my burning eyes." The wind picks up, as does his train of thought. (You are perfection. My only direction, MC. Fire on Fire….could not lay a flame on us.)

[k00288398]

MOVEMENT STATEMENT

My theme of Stealing beauty was touched in a few things - how modern society influences outer and inner beauty and how it pushes modern women to be more active and express themselves. Based on these moments, I tried to reveal the internal interaction of the two sides of one female personality (passive, gentle and strong, active) in the personality of my heroine.

At the very beginning of the project, I clearly understood what I would like to do, and perhaps this somewhat limited me in experiments in my chosen electives. I knew what I wanted to focus on in my topic, but not all of what I planned turned out as I planned. Nevertheless, in general, I am satisfied with the result and I hope the course of my thoughts will be clear at the final viewing.

I have been exploring the theme of 'Movement' through ELECTIVES: PHOTO, PRINT and PAINTING. I was not able to attend all the master classes due to certain circumstances, but the result of each of them reflected the vision of my concept.

In the beginning, I took PHOTOgraphs of my model, which became the model for portraits in my main painting work. I also took a series of photos of hands and hair, from which I chose a few to explain one of my ideas in the project. The final photo shoots showed two sides of my character in portrait shots and in the exposure experiment I aimed to capture a moment of elusive beauty.

In the PRINT, I focused on the hands and body shapes of my Venus, trying to display more inner movement and fullness than physical. I also made a master class Wooden Letterpress printing blocks. I made the name of my project vague and at the final exposition I placed the letters in the form of a wave (having hinted at the bend of the hair).

In my main work in PAINTING, I tried to show the two sides of my heroine, as well as the meaning of a woman in general. I put the fragile image of Venus-Amy on the symbolically shown Earth in the form of a blue sphere. The body of Venus connects the Sun above and the Earth below, explaining that a woman fills our existence with life and strength. Amy in the role of Supergirl shows her activity. I enclosed these two figures in a triangle. I left Venus's body and part of Supergirl's feminine clothes unpainted - focusing on their faces. For each of them, I chose a color palette in which complementary colors work - these colors create high contrast. I intentionally used them for an active sounding. I used one color as a background and another as an accent.