#Peal Aesthetic

[thoughtkick]

Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy.

Norman Vincent Peale

[thepersonalwords]

Live your life and forget your age.

Norman Vincent Peale

[fallensapphires]

Holidays: Bokeh Christmas Tree Lights

Christmas waves a magic wand over the world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.

[oddly-casual]

I know collectively as a fandom we decided Rise Mikey has multiple stickers on him at every given moment but I’m convinced that this only works if he’s a turtle because imagine trying to keep several stickers on your body every day I would cry

[devilisln-moved]

Alright. I’m thinking of sticking mostly to drafts for a spell, killing some threads, just to get to the to the point of using the beta editor because legacy still shows up when I’m making something fresh and with some reblogs? But I think it’s gone for my drafts. Like I said, i think we’ve got a janky hybrid mess going on here, and I kinda think it might be best to switch to beta.

[jules-writes-stories]

I've always questioned the ethics of Feyre "wearing" Illyrian wings (particularly for aesthetic or sexual purposes). This post stayed with me, and inspired this little story. CW for mention of wing clipping/brief mention of violence/Rhys and Feyre critical

below or on AO3

Valkyrie

For every Emerie who has ever held the door open for another. Your wings are perfect.

Illyria, The Night Court

She woke at dawn and stretched her arms, rubbing at the aches of her shoulders and lower back that came from holding up the deadweight of her wings. If they had not been clipped, these wings would have the muscle and strength to hold their own. 

If they had not been clipped, she would spend hours in flight. They would stay aloft or tuck neatly between her shoulders in a symmetrical resting position, as the Mother intended.

(cw below)

But instead, at the age of fourteen, after her first bleed, she was held down as the village healer sliced through the central tendons of each one. Five incisions in a starburst pattern. These made certain no rapid healing occurred.

No second chances for female flight. 

She dressed in the simple shift and rubbed ointment along the jagged silver scars, like rivulets running down the maroon membrane. The morning was crisp, the sky blue as a Siphon and Ramiel gleamed granite in the distance. 

Nodding to the camp mothers, she found her work site, cauldron already bubbling, laundry in the basket waiting to be boiled, scrubbed and rinsed. This was her lot. The brown skin of her hands and wrists was calloused and streaked with several more scars from the boiling water and caustic herbs used to remove blood stains and treat Illyrian fighting leathers. She healed quickly, but not perfectly. Nothing about her was perfect anymore. 

She lifted the heavy basket with a grunt, shifting it to her hip for better support and dumped the soiled clothes into the pot. Stirring, she hummed low and watched as the young males trained on the western steppes. 

In a few weeks, the young females would be offered a chance to train, but only those who were not bleeding, and only those who had finished all their chores, and only those whose fathers and brothers allowed. And only those who were brave enough to weather the names, and the looks, and the cold shoulders…

Sometimes, on slow days, when there wasn’t too much laundry, she let herself imagine that her wings were whole. That she could climb the cliff sides and leap from the heights. In free fall, the air and wind would propel her body, and at the last minute, right before she crashed upon the steppes, her wings would snap out to their fullest and she would coast along the wild grasses, their blades grazing her face. Or maybe she would take off from the peaks and pass straight up through the clouds, tasting rain and smelling ether. She laughed at herself then, but the sound held no music. 

“It will be your skin when the çamaşır shrinks, Asli.” A camp mother called out from the next fire. Damn. She’d let the laundry boil for too long. The Illyrian used the long wooden paddle and pulled the steaming clothes from the cauldron, praying it was not too late. Her skin already blistering as the water splashed her legs and forearms, burning her hands. 

A shadow dappled the sky above. A peal of laughter followed. She looked up. And there, leaping from a cliff’s edge, to the east, was a young female with golden brown hair and moon white skin. She was not Illyrian, yet she possessed Illyrian wings. They were enormous, unclipped, and perfect.

And for a heartbeat, the laundress wished on every star that ever graced the Night Court sky that she could have those wings. No, she did not even need those wings. She would be content with the ones on her back. Before she was held down. Before they were taken from her. 

The female leapt from the cliffside and with a wild whoop, her wings caught the wind and she banked, one with the current and the sky. How free, how magical it must be. There was a male flying beside her. Not any male. This was the High Lord and his High Lady. They continued to fly off into the horizon until they were mere specks in the vast sky. 

And the injustice of it coiled like a snake and struck. Its venom coursed through her veins. This twenty year old High Fae who shape shifted wings on a whim, taking pleasure in a birthright not her own. The Illyrian's rage was a living thing. For this was her sky. The wind was a song thrumming in her blood. 

The High Lord had made it illegal to cut a female’s wings, but he did not enforce it. He tried to help females learn to fight, but did not enforce it. Most powerful in history, but not powerful enough to stop an Illyrian farmer or soldier from tying a fourteen year old to a chair and breaking her body. From stopping a mob of warriors from throwing rocks at mothers who wished to learn how to block a blow.

How could the High Lady take such joy in flight and not defend the very females whose wings were still being clipped, when she knew firsthand the pleasure and power, the joy and freedom, that was being denied them? Instead, she blithely coasted above those whose wings would never extend to their full span or feel the wind catching so perfectly. Did she not see how hurtful it was, how harmful, to overlook the suffering of the very fae race she was impersonating? 

The laundress lay the clothes on the rocks and furiously beat out the blood stains. Her back ached and her hands were on fire as she watched her daughter, Banou, collect firewood at the edge of camp. Her little velveteen wings were still uncut, youthful talons still rounded. Her body was unbowed and unbroken, for now. The laundress had a thought. What if she got her daughter out before she could be bowed, broken, and clipped? And what if other younglings, they too, could get out? For if their High Lord truly could not protect them from the blades and rocks and fists that would inevitably come their way, then they would have to save themselves. 

What if Banou could one day leap from a cliffside, her perfect laughter pealing from the skies? Why should joy only be free for the rich and the powerful? The sky and stars should be the birthright of every Illyrian. And now, the laundress wanted this more than anything. Tonight, she would walk the mountain pass and seek out the one whose name was Emerie. The Valkyrie. 

She continued to scrub the blood stains from white linen, and this time, when she laughed, there was music. 

[winged-self-indulgence]

This is so rushed and spun off from a truly unhinged discussion but I needed to write something for this AU while I have timeeee @tiffykins-yeah I hope this is at least semi entertaining lmao

The day Binary Star Hero turned against the heroes; the skies went dark.

Metaphorically of course. Strictly speaking, very little changed in the grand scheme of things. Although the NAHA, reporters, and anyone with a media presence certainly behaved as though the world itself had come to an end. Herschel was on the news lamenting the loss of the earth’s brightest star to the forces of darkness, news anchors would not shut up about the catastrophic consequences of losing the greatest hero mankind had ever known, and drama youtubers milked the controversy of the NAHA’s ignominious fall from grace as Binary Star Hero – real name Ray – exited the hero headquarters followed by a bevy of interns, office workers, and bottom-rung employees. Employees who, with vicious innocence, detailed the NAHA’s horrendous working conditions.

“We didn’t even have dental,” one sighed despondently. “My friend’s teeth haven’t been the same since that rock hero went on a rampage in the office.”

When asked the reason they had chosen to follow the new villain – was it blind worship? Stockholm syndrome? Were they being threatened in any way? – the gathering just scoffed.

“He’s paying my medical bills,” one replied. “The NAHA didn’t even want to pay for my insulin. I had to argue with like 5 different people to get it added to my benefits package.”

“Wait, you were getting benefits? I’ve been working on minimum wage for years!”

“You guys were getting paid?!”

At that point, the hero formerly known as Binary Star Hero attempted to fly away from the commotion, causing one of the former NAHA employees to yell something to the effect of “quick, follow that tacky sweater!” Which caused the crowd to peal off after the rapidly shrinking red dot in the sky, leading to several traffic obstructions, and signaling the start to a villainous career change.

Ray stared at clothing rack in front of him, at the five mannequins arranged in various dramatic poses, and finally at the group of expectantly waiting…what to call them? Underlings? Sure, that worked. The underlings stared back at him, some carrying more fabric while others held sewing kits, needles, thread, and baskets of accessories.

There was no need to read their minds to understand what they all wanted, but he still felt the need to ask. “What is this?”

“For your villain rebranding, the team decided on an aesthetic overhaul,” the one at the front announced brightly, gesturing to the steel rack that had been crammed with outfits in a range of dark colours – purples, indigoes, heavy shades of grey and even denser blacks. Some had capes, most did not. “Of course, this would all be easier if you would simply decide on a new name, but I suppose we can whittle down the choices later.”

Ray flashed back to the moment he’d walked past the conference room – a massive underground addition to his lair (he didn’t call it that, but the PR team were very Committed To The Bit) – and seen a horde of them gathered around the whiteboard and shouting suggestions at the person at the front. On the interactive surface were at least 50 names, though Ray only got through Lunar Eclipse and Superordinate Gravitational Collapse before he’d decided to leave that problem for Future Ray to sort out.

Unfortunately, the future had come. “This is completely unnecessary,” Ray plucked at the sleeve of one of the outfits and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was in fact not made of impossibly tight spandex. “I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

Another employee stepped up, swiping the screen of the iPad with a finger. “Sir, [MC] will be clocking into the afternoon shift in approximately one hour. Would you like to pick up your coffee then?”

“Hm,” Ray rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What’s on my schedule before that?”

“Uh, there’s a senator you hate giving a bigoted speech about drag queens, then you wanted me to remind you to rob that bank on 6th Avenue,” another swipe across the screen, “oh, and you’re out of ice cream.”

“The speech should be happening in the park across from the coffeeshop where [MC] works,” one of the team piped up. “We can reschedule the bank robbery and take some casual photos of you at the coffeeshop. The mid-afternoon sun would be great for the Total Eclipse social media page!”

“Dude, we discussed this! The team hasn’t decided on a villain name yet!”

“For the last time, we’re not choosing your idea!”

“Fuck you, Dark Star is a great evil name!”

“We are not linking him to a shitty 90s movie!”

“You take that back!”

Taking advantage of their distraction, Ray turned his attention to one of his favourite groups in the team. “Any updates?”

The employee saluted – Ray had given up on making them stop doing that – and pulled out her own iPad. “Sir–” (“Don’t call me that.”) “–they liked the post of you singing while playing the guitar and left a sweating emoji on the latest shirtless pic.”

“What about the one of me saving a kitten at the shelter?”

“Unfortunately, it was flagged for violence after one of the team forgot to edit out the part where you tossed someone through the walls for having an unsolicited picture of [MC] as their phone-screen background.”

“Ah, right,” Ray nodded reminiscently. “That did happen, huh. Upload it again, and monitor. If that’s all…”

He took off through the window, off to do various evil deeds and visit his favourite barista, while ignoring the screeching below as the two feuding members of the team finally stopped fighting long enough to notice his departure.

“FUCK, HE DIDN’T PICK A COSTUME!”

“SIR, AT LEAST CHANGE THE SWEATER!”

[mazeinthemiroh]

I am not sure if you would count this under autumn or not, but since Halloween is like the spirit of autumn. Could you do pumpkin carving with Ateez?

pumpkin carving with ateez

genre: headcanons; general, crack, fluff

warnings: cursing, mentions of knives

please like and reblog if you enjoy <;3

hongjoong

a bit of a messy and aggressive approach

you can't help but be endeared by his enthusiasm to undertake such a task

makes the pumpkins artsy, perhaps painting them slightly and drawing little patterns here and there

he's concentration face is so cute!!

just wants to have fun decorating them :]

seonghwa

aesthetically pleasing pumpkins

looks like they're straight out of pinterest

patronisingly comforts/teases you about your basic looking pumpkins

"it's ok, not everyone is a natural 😘"

overall he thinks it's a very cute bonding exercise for the both of you <3333

doesn't take it too seriously but they end up looking immaculate anyway so it's a win-win!

yunho

he wants to make funny-looking pumpkins

not the usual smiley or scary ones

he wants something different. something quirky, if you will-

ends up carving a very sassy looking pumpkin. and you pretty sure the face he carved is giving you the side eye-

wraps a cute scarf around it too, for good measure!

yeosang

puts a random playlist on and gets to work

doesn't know wtf he's doing but he's happy to be there

stabs away at the pumpkin

you can't help but admire his carving technique. or maybe it's just the way his arms look when he's doing it...

just carves nonsensical patterns in the pumpkin. even though it's nothing fancy, it still looks pretty

san

a hot mess

he's not a natural pumpkin carver. he's got the arms for it but the technique isn't there if that makes any sense

he's just a bit too strong and ends up breaking a load of the pumpkins

laughs it off to begin with but, you know what he's like, he ends up getting pouty if he isn't good at something immediately

ends up swearing and throwing the knife down in defeat

10/10 for effort??

mingi

he's a bit clusmy with that knife

honestly wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally hurt himself with it

gets distracted by the satisfying sound of the pumpkin being pealed and ends up losing track of his original design

so he just mindlessly carves into his pumpkin with a small grin in his face. he finds it awfully therapeutic

in his own little world <3

wooyoung

takes it way too seriously

will turn it into some kind of competition

"who can carve the most pumpkins the quickest??"

and you're looking at him like??

there's no chill time with wooyo

but actually that isn't true. once he gets to work on carving the pumpkins, he's so quiet and full of concentration

just sit back and watch him go, it's adorable

jongho

a bit heavy-handed to begin with, but not bad at all once he's carved his first one

he carves a cute little face in his first pumpkin but wants to do something more

very peacefully carves his pumpkins like it's his destiny

makes a cute little cat design in the pumpkin, and the attempts to do a bear

a professional, really.

[mossypidder]

So I was wanting to dye my hair pink midwinter so it’d fade my spring, I’ve been meaning to make another skull mask, it was supposed to snow the third week of January and somehow Technoblade always seemed to end up in the snow. Therefore. Things happened. I was only intending to take photos of it, but then I heard this song and my brain just went MMMM THIS SCENE AND THIS SCENE AND THIS SCENE AND- so I made a short. Or at least it was intended to be a short, but for some reason, YouTube won’t upload good audio, which is annoying, because tumblr doesn’t like high res imaging. Regardless, I’m really, really happy with this. Also here’s the slightly shortened youtube version if anyone’s interested.

Here’s the concept art for the costume beside what it actually turned out as. Material list below cut.

Mask: foam core which is a staple, but I tried duck masking tape instead of regular scotch tape in hopes the paint wouldn’t peal off it’s held up so much better thus far. Tusks and teeth are cosclay. Then acrylic paint and I don’t remember what the clear coat is called.

Crown: also foam core, but I did use scotch tape for it. Not as happy with it because there are a lot of creases, but I was too lazy to try and find a different medium. Painted with an oil based gold paint which actually covered very well and I barely used any of it.

Actual Mouth Tusks: also cosclay with acrylic paint for the white and the same oil based gold for the tusk cap thing.

Cloak: red fleece that I weathered with acrylic paint (and painted myself and the kitchen floor in the process), and long pile fleece for the hood lining. The buttons are cosclay that I, again, painted with the same gold. And the chains I just bought in bulk off amazon cuz I’ll probably use it again.

Corset Belt: some random faux leather I had leftover from a former project, and the laces are just ribbon.

Sword: a friend made it for me forever ago, and it’s just been lying around.

Shirt: a random find from Goodwill that I about shrieked at when I found.

Pants: I can’t remember where I got them, I’ve had them for a while, they’re just high waisted corduroy.

I really wanted glasses, but I couldn’t find the ones was planning to use. Which is obnoxious. Because Techno deserves to see. But it’s not supposed to snow again for a while, so unfortunately, no glasses.

Also, this is the first time I’ve wished I had long hair since I cut it off almost three years ago because aesthetically it would have been really nice, but I’m less hung up on that than I am the glasses lol

[dragoon-mid-jump]

FFXIV Swap: Relaxation Edition!

A swap gift playlist for @ubejamjar feat. their WoL, Ajisai Kawanami, playing to the suggested theme of Relaxation! I suppose you could call this "Lo-Fi Beats to Rotate Your WoL To"? Because that's what I sure did making this! It's got a little bit of everything I felt would resonate with your WoL, from vibes and aesthetics to shipping.

And below the cut are some brief blurbs on how and why each entry made it into the playlist itself! Thank you much for your patience, apologies for the lateness, and I hope you enjoy giving this a listen as much as I did crafting it!

The Last Stand (Masayoshi Soken): Personally, one of my favorite Endwalker tracks to vibe to. I heard it in my head as I read your ask prompt entry titled "The Perfect Date" with Ajisai and Aymeric. There's something about the acoustic that really resonates with the notion of relaxation, which is fitting considering it plays during downtime moments in Endwalker. I think it also really fits the Aesthetics section of the "5 Character Associations" tag game you did!

I Still Miss You (Bernth): A piece I found from a primarily instrumental guitarist I listen to that I checked out after noticing that you shipped Ajisai with Haurchefant, given his ultimate fate, as well as the "5 Character Associations" at play once more ("Loneliness after your lover goes home" under Emotions/Feelings) while still tying instrumentals to relaxation.

Easier (Crane Wives): Found in an ask while trawling through Ajisai's character tag, so I figured I'd add it in! You also already did the lyric analysis yourself, too, and I can see how it lines up!

Vanilla Twilight (Owl City): There's something about the lyrics of missing someone dear to you that resonates with what I can feel from Aymeric being unable to accompany Ajisai on her travels past Heavensward, save for a few instances later down the MSQ, coupled with the colors blue and purple and starry skies and winter mornings in the Associations post, while also tapping into the more lowkey vibes I'm aiming for.

Rule #1 - Magic (Fish in a Birdcage): A song I found while music-surfing, and after I gave it a listen, it reminded me of your "A Perfect Date" vignette, moreso the latter half after Ajisai and Aymeric leave the cafe they were at and retire to her abode. It's the combination of the more private quarters and the repeated lyrics:

"There is magic in this room I don't know if you can see it There is magic in this room I don't know if you can feel it It's called love Some call it love Love"

as they just spend the rest of the night in each others' presence.

6. Between Twilight (Lindsey Stirling): This was mainly on vibes from the low-key violin that comprises most of this track and resonance with...well, not just her aesthetics, but with some gposes of her general travels and less strenuous MSQ moments.

7. Foreverglow (Lindsey Stirling): It was right under the above song in the album listing, but this time it has lyrics. Still has the same vibes as the above, but the lyrics have the song hone in more on the night sky aesthetic.

8. Starlight Waltz (Ponyphonic): Another find from music-surfing. Pulling from your Wondrous Tales prompt "Lost Together" as well as that starry sky aesthetic. Well, it's a waltz, and it calls to mind the dance in the prompt. It fits both of these separately, but not necessarily together, if that makes sense? Mainly because that particular Gpose isn't shot at night.

9. Twinleaf Town (Pokemon Diamond/Peal/Platinum OST, cover by insaneintherainmusic): Ah, Twinleaf Town my beloved. Your hometown in the Gen 4 games. Comfy and cozy and safe. In Platinum particularly, the climate has turned a bit colder in Sinnoh compared to its predecessors, noted by patches of snow around the neighborhood and the characters dressed warmer. I think all that fits some of Ajisai's softer vibes, aesthetics, and Gposes.

10. Nobility Sleeps (Masayoshi Soken): And for the finishing touch, I just had to add a track from Heavensward to allude to Ajisai having love interests in both Haurchefant and Aymeric! So, I picked Nobility Sleeps, which plays at night in the Pillars in Ishgard! It's a soothing track, imo, which is a given with the time of day you can hear it in-game.

[dailycharacteroption]

Infinite Tech Witchwarper (Witchwarper Alternate Class Feature)

(art by Methiston on DeviantArt)

I do love a gadgeteer hero, someone who always has the right equipment for the job on hand, even when it doesn’t always make sense.

An interesting subtype of the gadgeteer hero, however, is the “arsenal” hero. Typically a “battle mage” of some kind, their whole gimmick is that they have a weapon and/or armor set for every situation, often conjuring them to their hands to replace whatever armament they previously held or wore.

And with the witchwarper, a spellcaster that literally calls upon objects and energies from alternate realities, it only makes sense that there would be some among them that utilize their talents in such a way!

I doubt that this specialization would manifest by accident, so I imagine that those that wield this power trained themselves to focus on weapons and armaments when they tap into the possibilities of other worlds and realities. Perhaps they are soldiers or mercenaries, or they desperately wished for a weapon to defend themselves when they were in danger, and their power awakened and answered.

Either way, their gifts have given them a way to answer any question that their foes and the hazards around them may ask.

With an expenditure of magical energy, these mages can conjure a suit of light armor (with upgrades if resolve is also spent), a basic melee weapon, or a sidearm. Though these armaments may resemble familiar models, they are extradimensional in nature and as such the skill of the mage and the amount of energy they expended determines their damage output and defensive capabilities, allowing them to tailor the armor with the upgrades they need, or the weapons with the damage type and special properties they need.

The greater the magical energy they expend, the more potent their creations become. Armor gains elemental resistances, additional upgrade slots, greater durability. Meanwhile, weapons gain critical hit effects, additional properties, and increases to their damage output.

With this specialization, this version of the witchwarper is less a battlefield control specialist and more a secondary combatant able to tailor their gear to the situation at hand, especially if you’re using the enhanced version of the class that gets a lot of extra uses of infinite worlds. I recommend combat feats to flesh out their ability to stand alongside more combat-focused classes, as well as spells that can hamper and damage foes to make hammering them hard with your conjured weapons as well as your more real mainstays easier. From there, make a list of useful armor upgrades so you can quickly pick them out when going on the defensive.

I said before that these weapons and armor may resemble familiar models  despite using a level-generated stat line, but they don’t have to if you do not wish. You might wield armor that resembles medieval designs, or weapons that function but are very different in terms of design aesthetic, such as an electrical pistol that is accompanied by deafening peals of thunder when fired, or a staff that bleeds flame along it’s length. Feel free to be creative with it!

Hoping to starve them out of advanced resources, the Jolin Corporation blockaded the planet in hopes of quelling the copaxi revolts at their facilities. However, they sorely underestimated the flexibility of the coral-folk. Not only have their biotechnicians begun replicating the advanced tech of the outsiders in biotech form, but more than a few copaxi guerillas have a knack for warping reality, conjuring living weapons from their imagination to fight the company’s occupation.

In order to learn about the mysterious weapon-conjuring mercenary the party has repeatedly encountered, they need to sneak into a server room owned by the corporation that he seems to be connected to. Doing so means braving the automated defenses, including a serpentine hybrid tech guardians, an arcane asp!

The recent string of killings that have occurred seem to have no connection at first, but as one looks into the details, one begins to realize that the murder weapons are all strange and unique devices, leading the investigators to conclude that the wielder must be a tinkering weaponsmith, have raided a warehouse of experimental designs, or perhaps strangest of all, is making them up as they go.

[thoughtkick]

Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy.

Norman Vincent Peale

[thepersonalwords]

You become a worrier by practicing worry. You become free of worry by practicing the opposite.

Norman Vincent Peale

[17-08-66]

Meeting the lost boys

Poly lost boys x GN reader

Warnings: use of adult language, very mild violence, my first official piece of writing: it's a bit rushed at the end my apologies.

You could see the heat hanging in the air as it carried the scent of candy floss and greasy junk food. Sweat clung to the boardwalk goers as they eagerly rushed from ride to ride never seeming to grow bored of feeling like there heads were gonna explode, you could never understand the appeal they just made you feel anxiety ridden and queasy, perhaps that was the appeal for same people, the tight knot that formed in there stomach as they reached high speeds.

Minus the rides, you loved the boardwalk the the energy was electrifying and the people unique which made it easy for you to blend in with you own aesthetic, at the moment you were wearing a pair of faded black jeans with one leg cut to mid thigh over a pair of fishnets.

You were pleased with yourself for planing ahead for the heat with your short sleeved t.rex band t. Your withered old combat boots had see better days having worn through almost entirely at the toes, they could have used being disposed of years ago but you had formed to much of an attachment to let them go that easy. Your loose sleeve less denim jacket sported many patches some pealing of which you had haphazardly sewn on by hand when you were twelve, it showed.

Breaking out of your daze you check the time on your watch, annoyingly it confirms your suspicions, your late in meeting with your friends you Hurry your pace as you weave in amongst people, for as long as you can remember whoever was last to meet up with the rest of the group had to pay for the food, the person who was late 70% of the time, was you and you were determined that it not be you again.

Trying to recall which diner you'd all arranged to meet up at, you turned a sharp corner and collide so hard strait into a couple that it knocks you off your feet and down onto the hard dirty trash covered floor. Before you could even regain your breath to apologize you were being yelled at at a volume that could shatter glass, "you b*tch why weren't you watching where you were going!", you froze, you recognised that voice all to well, you slowly dragged your head up scared to confirm what you already new to be true. It was Greg the leader of the surfer Nazi's he seemed to be dripping in what appeared to be coke? Along with his girlfriend. Paralyzed you felt all the colour leave your body in an instant, before you could even register what you were doing you drag myself up off the ground at lightning speed and you ran faster than you'd ever run before, your lungs burned and your legs ached, your mouth dry caused bile to rise at the back of your throat making it hard to breath but you didn't stop until you made it to the diner.

Infront of the mildly shabby building with red pealing paint and a yellow and blue neon sign with a weird name that you couldn't even pronounce, were your Friends all four of them, meaning once again dinner was on you, not that you even cared at that point having just run your lungs to death trying to avoid getting beaten up it seemed like a reasonable price to pay.

*Whistles* "wow, someone REALLY didn't want to have to pay today", your friend Giz says, my other friends Sandy, Brutus and tangerine snigger. You gaze up at them from you keeled over position, "ShUt Up", you mutter half heartedly.

For the next few hours things went on smoothly your friends didn't mention your frazzled entrance. And eventually you parted ways. Darker now with over half of the shops on the boardwalk closed up for the night you slowly begin to walk back home, as your crossing the parking lot you can't help but feel as someone's watching you, but before you could give it any more thought you hear a shout that you hoped you wouldn't have to hear again for a while "hey that's the dumb b*tch who bumped into me earlier!". Greg and by the sound of it drunk as well, you tuned in a nervous counterclockwise manner and your eyes regretfully fell on him and his friends sitting in the back of his truck all of which were also drunk.

You freeze, paralysed and for a while, Nothing, not a chirp of a cricket or a rumble of a car engine in the far distance. Practically blacked out I doesn't dawn on you when there car slowly starts to rumble towards you first slow as it turns then faster and faster as it accelerates at and eye watering pace.

And then WHOOSH! as it speeds so close to you it whips your hair around your face making it hard to see. Now that snapped you out of your daze fast, your brain acting on the instinct deep inside of it told you to scream like your life depended on it, who knows maybe it did.

By the time you opened your mouth to scream there was another WHOOSH! As they sped past again this time even closer yelling profanity that would make almost any person gasp. Screaming even louder you willed anyone to come and save you not that they'd probably be able to do much Greg and his goons seemed pretty set on mowing you down but at least you'd be able to see one last descent face before your, what felt like inevitable demise.

But before them could deliver one last fatal blow there was a nauseating screeching as they stepped on the brakes hard. I turn to look behind me not sure whether to be relieved or scared, sure whatever was going on had stalled you getting run over, at least for a little bit, but what could possibly loom behind you that had made your possible future murders freeze.

And that's when your saw it, four figures highlighted by the headlamps on there bikes.

[lanibijou]

Definitely after Eleven I'm saving for Lady Peal (newest CN sinner), I just love the aesthetic of the roaring 20s and that's the vibe of this whole event and I rock with it

[dynamoe]

The Cartographer of Mêlée Island

(the reason I drew that Monkey Island map, posted previously.)

x-posted to Instagram

The original LucasArts Monkey Island game came out when I was a kid and so fundamentally influenced my sense of humor and drawing style (those tiny one-pixel black eyes burrowing into your soul) that I felt I should draw something to show my appreciation.

I finished Return to Monkey Island, the long-awaited newest sequel, a month ago (but mixed feelings about it) so I did a portrait of my favorite character from the original game series.

Tried to design a compromise between all the different incarnations of cartographer Wally B. Feed — Monkey Island 2: LeChuck's Revenge, The Curse of Monkey Island, the redesigned Monkey Island 2 Special Edition (yuck), and this year's Return to Monkey Island.

... in a composition inspired by the heroic portraiture of the late 18th century (e.g. George Romney, Charles Wilson Peale and son), where the learned gentleman of leisure (British) or earnest craftsperson (American) is always depicted momentarily distracted in their work, surrounded by the symbolic trappings of their life, looking into the middle distance contemplating... something... Primarily using these two painting as models for reference—

The Young Cricketer (1768) by Francis Cotes

John Adams (1783) by John Singleton Copley

Those epic skies. The jaunty contraposto hip-tilt. A random drape in the background.

...but nothing tops the perfection of the original character design:

Other than the buckles on his shoes, there is nothing pirate-y about Wally's outfit. Monocles weren't even widely used until the Victorian/Edwardian era... 100+ years later than the "Golden Age of Piracy." As much as the series maintains a *scrupulous* dedication to being historically inaccurate, I hewed closer to ambiguously 1760-1790 colonial/pirate-y costume aesthetic, but without doing any actual research. Aiming for the sweet spot: Less Disneyland More Colonial-Williamsburg-on-a-bad-day. ( We stan a craftsman's apron connecting to a waistcoat button.)

Monkey Island map, before being warped in the portrait

How did I do?