#Tales of Dreamscape

[ciinnamiilk]

OC Art Dump!

Wow! I have not posted art here in a WHILE.. Well, Fear not! Time for a recent art dump of mine!

Did this yesterday;;

Then did all of these, today!!;;

Been wanting to practice drawing humans alot more often, so I made a human oc, and humanized some ocs of mine! (The last two were just for the

funnies!)

All these characters belong to my upcoming comic "Tales Of Dreamscape" !

If you have any questions about the comic, shoot me an ask/message! :D (These characters are super important to me, so I'll talk about them with the drop of a hat)

[ai-dream]

[kat-von-rose]

▩ Stone Heart ▩ / IG: kat von rose

[lesbianrecorderplayer]

Honestly the reveal that Stan was the cause of Susan's lazy eye makes that scene where they're dating so much funnier actually like this is a very small town and everyone knows each other so like I think Stan would remember causing this (Lazy Susan even moreso) which means Stan really is just. THAT desperate for topics of conversation with this woman.

[tales-from-the-iolite-hospital]

Random Factoids About the Different Cultures of the Dreamscape

Since I haven't put out anything in a bit, mostly because I haven't gotten a new sketchbook yet, I want to make a little worldbuilding post!

There's many different species within the Dreamscape capable of sentience and human levels of thought, and with that comes a lot of different cultures and small factoids about them. So, why shouldn't I mention them in a post like this?

The Eyeless: The Eyeless are the more common species within the Dreamscape. They look like humans without eyes, but they can actually see through eye patterns on the clothing they wear. Because of this, they have developed a very modest culture, the thought process at the start being that the more clothing you have on you, the more eyes you can put on to have a wider field of vision. It is customary to name your child after an element of the periodic table. Nobody really knows where it started, but it has stuck around for centuries.

The Landsharks: Landsharks are humanoids with a very fluffy shark tail, gills, shark like teeth, and paw pads on their hands and feet. Despite the gills, many landsharks actually see swimming as not being healthy. The reason is because they believe the fur on their tails will get so heavy and wet that it could cause them to either sink, or for them to develop spinal issues once they get out of the water and drag their tails around. Landsharks only have one name, and recognize family members from appearance or scent. So, when singing papers that require a first, middle, and last name, they put their middle and last names as just Landshark (Ex: Baxter Landshark Landshark).

The No-Eyeds: They got their name from the fact that, when they first came into existence, they thought their black eyes were just voids and that they had no eyes. So, they called themselves the No-Eyeds when travellers came by. Many mistakes them for an Eyeless from behind, because they look so similar, only to realize that they aren't the same when they see their face. Despite now knowing their eyes are just black, they have kept the name since a lot of their spirituality and culture revolves around those old beliefs. They have gone from believing that they have voids and not eyes to believing that their eyes are black because they are connected to the void in some way. There are many in the new generations that don't believe in any sort of spirituality, but still engage in many of the customs due to being taught them when growing up.

The Galaxians: They believe themselves to be connected to the humans who have dreamed up the Dreamscape in some way. It stems from the fact that they are born and live in the sky and space, which a lot of religions in the Dreamscape believe us where the humans view the Dreamscape from when they sleep. Their bodies look like a mass of stars, planets, and empty space merged into a vaguely humanoid form. Because of this, their diets consist of a lot of meats, fats, and sometimes wood in order to keep the stars within them burning. Outside of the wood, which is only eaten in desperate times or during spiritual events, they are completely carnivorous.

The Oreons: The Oreons are a people said to be born from ores and minerals in geodes. They crack out of a geode like an egg. They don't use gendered words in their native language, even when speaking about other people, mainly because Oreons themselves don't have any gender or sex due to randomly being born from geodes in the ground. When asked what they'd prefer to be called, they usually just say by their name or by they/them, wanting to avoid the conversation all together. They are also a very cautious species, because they can crack and break open like, ironically, a geode.

The Medicrow: The Medicrow isn't necessarily a species. It is one individual who is a living scarecrow. However, it has a large impact on other species. It cannot talk on its own, using the crows it can control to talk through them, or when the crows are not around, it uses sign language.any folklore throughout every species's culture claim that it is an omen for severe, lifelong illness, and that if it shows up it means you're at the point where you are about to have a medical emergency.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Just what was the Opera Singer built out of to be seen as a damn dumbbell?

CW/s: shitpost, Xinyuan's figure reminds me of fucking Sangria and I hate it here (/exag), akatsuhearts reference

NOTE: Part 2 of the gift I have for Esther (after glass heart), and its also a crack fic for the IDV AU. Also, curse AkatsuHearts giving me the thought of "my girl built like a dumbbell" LMAOOOO

"You know, miss Opera Singer, you look like you're built like a dumbbell."

Xianyun seem to pause and raise her head at the comment, looking extremely confused at the comment that she was told by the newcomer.

"... Pardon?"

"You know, since your outfit has you wearing these puffed up sleeves," she explained, grabbing them with a tilt of her head. "And the others say that it looks weird without you wearing those."

...

Xianyun seem to sigh. It seem as though the survivors she's dealt with saw what she wore as such an... Interesting item used for lifting weights.

"I see. Do you think the same way?"

"Huh?"

"I mean my figure. Do you think one is built like a dumbbell, as you say?" she asked again, raising an eyebrow. "That my waist is that thin, or my puffy sleeves remind you of such?"

... Is she joking?

"N- No," Esther replied, scratching the back of her neck. "I mean, it would be funny, but... I think it'd be too insulting for you. Especially since you don't enjoy being called that way."

Looking at Xinyuan, the Opera Singer seems amused, which caught her by surprise. What's even more was how she simply pat her head, just like how a mother would to a child.

If anything, it made her cheeks redden. She knew Xinyuan was definitely enjoying her time teasing her when she brought that question up.

"You're enjoying this too much!" she exclaimed, grabbing her hand to pull it a bit higher. Although, the hunter raised an eyebrow, even more amused than before.

"Enjoying what, pray tell? You brought that question up yourself."

"Well, yes, but I wasn't expecting you to laugh while I'm trying to answer that!"

Xinyuan chortled at the thought, proving Esther's point. It even made her more huffy as she looked away, ignoring the feeling of her free hand to cup her cheek.

"Hm... Jokes aside, however, I'm not offended if you see me that way. Although, if that were to be the case, you'll have to help me prove the others wrong for seeing me as a dumbbell."

... Oh, God, I hate it here.

"Ugh, fine, fine... You know me too well."

For the first time since she got here, she watched Xinyuan smile— the same smile she said she couldn't make due to the horrors she's seen before she came in.

"And you know me well enough, too, 宠儿."

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2024

[alex-the-bard]

The following is a transcript of an audio file recovered from a previously unknown structure in Antarctica. The file was stored on a normal USB drive, albeit one that is relatively archaic. The corpse that the USB was found on was genetically confirmed to be that of Odets Styrka, who had been missing for 37 years.

*begin audio*

*sounds of harsh wind, crunching footsteps*

Odets: Shit’s sake, where the hells is this damn thing?

Unknown: They said it was deeper in the circle!

Odets: Oh fuck’s sake.

*audio continues without incident for roughly 20 minutes, though exact time is unknown due to localized temporal distortion*

Unknown: What the hells is that?

Odets: I think we found it!

Unknown: Matches the description!

*wind dies down as group enters the structure*

Unknown: What the fu- OH SHIT AUGH FUCK FUCK FUCK SOMETHIN’S GOT ME, WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?

*sounds of gunshots, 9 firearms (3 handguns, 4 assault rifles, a shotgun and a machine gun), screaming continues*

Unknown: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!?!?

Unknown: NOT A CLUE!

*all sounds are overpowered by a distant roar, followed by the audio quickly distorting to the point of uselessness*

*end audio*

[gertybirdie]

[good-w-b]

The Forest King I

prints available

[qserasera]

why don't I tell you your signature line ---

what is it you're afraid of?

[blueheartbookclub]

"Whispers of Wonderland: Arthur Edward Waite's Dance with the Fairies"

Arthur Edward Waite, known for his profound contributions to mysticism and esotericism, unveils a lesser-known facet of his literary prowess in "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." This collection, a tapestry of enchanting verses, demonstrates Waite's ability to transcend the boundaries of the mundane and beckon readers into the mystical realms of fairy tales and poetic reverie.

At the heart of the collection lies the titular poem, "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," a mesmerizing composition that serves as a portal to an otherworldly domain. Waite's verses, akin to incantations, evoke a sense of wonder, inviting readers to journey through landscapes where the veil between reality and fantasy is gossamer-thin. The poet employs rich and evocative language, creating a dreamscape where every word is a brushstroke, painting vivid images of ethereal landscapes and magical beings.

Waite's exploration of fairyland is not confined to mere whimsy; it is a profound quest that delves into the essence of human experience. Through the prism of fairy tales, he reflects on themes that resonate universally — love, loss, longing, and the perennial search for meaning. The poet infuses these timeless themes with a unique alchemy, transforming them into something both familiar and extraordinary.

The collection is a testament to Waite's mastery of poetic form and rhythm. Each poem is a carefully crafted jewel, showcasing his ability to weave intricate patterns of rhyme and meter. Whether capturing the ephemeral beauty of nature or delving into the mysteries of the human soul, Waite's verses are imbued with a musicality that enchants the reader and lingers in the mind long after the pages are turned.

As readers traverse the pages of "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," they find themselves in the company of sprites, nymphs, and other fantastical beings. Yet, beneath the surface, Waite invites contemplation on the intersection of the magical and the mundane, encouraging readers to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

In conclusion, Arthur Edward Waite's "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems" is a captivating journey into realms where imagination reigns supreme. Through his poetic lens, Waite not only revitalizes the enchantment of fairy tales but also provides readers with a mirror to reflect on the deeper facets of their own lives. This collection stands as a testament to the enduring power of poetry to transport, transform, and illuminate the human experience.

"A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." by Arthur Edward Waite is available in Amazon in paperback 10.99$ and hardcover 18.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 136

Language: English

Rating: 8/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[unrealityliminal]

[tales-from-the-iolite-hospital]

The Dreamscape

The Dreamscape is a hazy land full of shifting architecture, doors that keep changing destinations, and other things that just don't make sense. The grass is purple, the sky anything but blue, and the water orange. Even then, the colors don't stay consistent.

The people here are far from human. In fact, some of the religious folk of the Dreamscape seem to believe that the world was created by humans dreaming while asleep. However, others don't believe that humans are real beings, and that their existence is a myth. Others, still, just don't care to argue.

Despite this, there's one place where things have some sort of consistency. The Iolite Hospital is where most of the sick go, with their motto being that they'll keep you there for as long as you are sick. They take their little saying quite literally. Any patients with chronic illness can count on their stay being permanent, or at least, several years long. Many of the doctors and nurses there have decided to live within the hospital, including the well-known Dr. Cogsworth, who many believe to be a doll or robot of some sort.

Some believe that the Iolite Hospital may be the center of the Dreamscape, due to the fact that the further and further you go from it, the more dangerous and unstable the land becomes. Others think it might just be some odd coincidence. Nonetheless, small villages have shown up around it in order to be protected by it. Nobody knows who built the Iolite Hospital.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Ghost hunting is a term she'd never find herself using again. Not after she's seen what she shouldn't have.

CW/s: tragedy levels of horror (slightly exaggerated), implied gore, animosity, unresolved conflict (that gets on hold) and character death(s? yeah). Please, please dni, this fic is purely sfw but it will go through the darker topics for a bit.

NOTE: inspired by the song "the dentist's swamp" (both survivor and hunter side), recent entry for @i23kazu's ebg. Its honestly an excuse to write smth horrific (IDV AU)

Entering White Sand Street Asylum, the match begins like how they are used to, and especially with where the embalmer found herself in.

Or, well, what should be something that she's used to. After all, she didn't realize that things could change way, way too swiftly.

Avoiding the blade sent by the queen, Furina, the ferrylady kept sprinting from the beheaded ruler in all of her glory. 2 ciphers had been decoded, but they needed to do 3 more, and they lost a member in the cruel game of 'hide and seek'.

It was a shame, really. They were sure that Emilie, the perfumer, would've been able to avoid her should they have relied less on her perfumes and more of her surroundings.

"I thought that an embalmer like you wouldn't have given her the chance of rebirth," the queen seem to call out, their chase continuing as she tried to hinder her with the mirror and fail. "What made you change, hm? Did something happened?"

"Like Hell will I tell you," the embalmer retorted, vaulting a window and slipping inside the next room over the hall. "After all, you'd use what I say against me and everyone else."

The hunter laughed as she narrowly avoided a big glass shard after her, lowering her body before she scrambled up and away. She could vaguely hear the sound of fabric hitting wood as she left the church, her shoes slamming on the ground as her heart raced a million miles an hour.

There was something to be said about getting chased by something that can, in simpler terms, drive one mad. And surely, she would've learned how bad it is to catch a hunter's attention by now... But she didn't.

If anything, it was almost like she was compelled to do it again. Maybe it was something that she couldn't deny, as she has yet to learn her lesson on how to deal with the residents.

Or to even pay attention to where she's heading.

In the midst of it all, she found herself panting, heaving as she tried to get the lady in red away from her. But when she felt that hope was too far from her reach, she felt a hand yank her wrist and pull her over.

She was about to flinch and pull them away, but she fell short when she saw who it was that was trying to save her.

Placing a finger on their lips, they kept crouching behind the abandoned furniture as they heard the soft humming of the hunter. Their heartbeats were beating rapidly, but it didn't took long until the hunter has left the vicinity. At least, for now.

"... There," the novelist whispered, letting go of the embalmer with a sigh. "We should be safe from Madame Red. She's not the brightest like the Photographer, but we should stay cautious. Who knows when she's coming back?"

... Ah. I forgot, she thought somberly. When it comes to matches, they're not the type to joke around... How careless of me.

"... Of course. Although, with the pace we're going I think she will find a difficult time finding a new survivor to go after," the woman explained, standing up to pull the latter as well, facing the once wiggling cipher. "After all, that man is not one to kid around in a match."

Ah, the 'Prisoner'. I have never known what his story is, but to think that someone would have the utter audacity to demote a Warden from his position...

"Mm, but that's besides the point," the novelist muttered, seeing the injuries she retained. "And especially when you were kiting Madame Red, too. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," she replied, albeit her tone did sound a bit cold. "I hadn't been hit hard enough to be impaled, thankfully. She's not good with a mirror shard than a sword."

At the corner of her eye, the novelist's mouth seem to open... But it closed, though she did catch the sight of a small frown.

Ah.

"You worry too much, Navina," the embalmer added, reaching over to pat their head. Still, she saw that the frown remained.

It seems she's done it now... How unfortunate.

"I know, I'm just... I suppose being concerned over someone is a little unnecessary," they added, grabbing her hand to pull it away. They turned their head to the cipher, beginning to work on it once more.

"Anyway, let's focus on the match first. I don't want to delay any second we have over something you don't want me worried about."

Charon's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Walking over to their side, she began to turn the cogs, making sure that the machine worked as it should be.

...

The silence is oddly deafening. It was almost hard to ascertain how they're feeling, especially when she's aware that her words led them to be so quiet. Even if they are friends, there were bound for disagreements to arise between each other.

Such is the way of life, especially in a manor that's hellbent on setting itself up for manslaughter with everyone's grim experiences.

The only sounds that surround them were the laughter echoing from outside, the slams of pallets and groans, and even the eerie clangs of the bell when the hunter regained more of her power.

Charon and the others were familiar to the sound. It was haunting as it was enchanting, and even she couldn't deny, she gets scared the more she hears it.

Maybe it reminded her of those church bells that were too big for one to deal with and use, or even those in Eversleeping Town, wherein the 'ringing' you'd hear was the tram's arrival. Whether it's goal was to simply cause a freak accident or for a hunter to be sent off flying for being too careless, she didn't knew.

In those moments of her lack of self-awareness, she could vaguely hear someone calling out to her. It sounded familiar, and yet she continued to ignore it, like she wasn't planning to see who could be bothering her.

"...ey..."

Just what goes on in the manor's walls, anyway? Was there something that no one understood?

"... H..."

Were the others here for a different reason, perhaps? Was she here for someone else to use her like a puppet?

"...ro...!"

Just... what's going on? And who even is she? What even are they?

"Look out!"

The piercing sound of shattered glass caught her attention, and the feeling of time slowed down as she watched the scene unfold in her very eyes.

Death was not uncommon in the world they live in. In a way, death felt akin to the sweet release that they can get from each of their matches. But to the embalmer, it felt like a harsh slap to the face.

Blood seem to pour out right in front of her as the novelist took the hit. The mirror shard had went through to their body, but from the look in their eye, they seemed far too relieved to care of their current predicament than anything else.

"Oh, good... You're finally aware," she heard them say, but it was short lived when the object was yanked from their chest, letting them stumble and fall on top of the embalmer.

No.

Catching them, blood began to pour on her attire out of panic. She could see the queen wipe off her bloodied shard, which didn't give her enough time to process everything.

Hoisting the severely injured novelist, the survivor dashed off, hearing the laughter from the hunter as their hearts began to beat as wildly as it can. Although theirs stuttered as they lost blood at each step, this only pushed her to go faster.

She needed to go someplace safe, someplace where she can safely embalm them, even if the process is as painful as it gets.

"Breathe for me, okay?" the embalmer told them, hoisting them up so their head would rest on her shoulder. "Come on, I need you to breathe. You'll be okay. I won't let you die."

"You won't...?"

"Not if I have a say in it," she hissed, vaulting another window and pallet. The sight of the walls around them seem to deteriorate the longer she carried the injured survivor, causing her to grimace.

She never liked the memories associated with White Sand Street Asylum. They're as unpleasant as they come, and the two were able to attest to it.

After all, the first few times they came to the asylum, it was due to a somewhat foolish quest.

Klee, the youngest survivor, had asked her and a few others if they could explore back then. She has heard of multiple rumors of the asylum being filled with ghosts, and unfortunately for the child, she hasn't been told of the horror stories with them.

And just like any other child who's yet to experience the scare of a lifetime, she asked her, Albedo, and Navina to investigate with her and see if the ghosts were really lurking from down below.

Safe to say, though, the embalmer knew too well of the outcome and made sure that she didn't get to see the things that they had to.

She couldn't forget how it felt to step foot in the halls of the abandoned asylum the first time. She couldn't forget how it felt as though time ceased to move when she caught sight of the bodies laid in some of the rooms, some of them covered with a stained gray cloth, but the stench being putrid like no other.

Klee wanted to see what it was at first, but catching whiff of it had made her stop asking. Even Albedo made sure that the other two can walk through it, his hold on the younger child firm.

It was only when they reached room 13 that she saw an unsightly view of one of the newest patients in the vicinity.

It was too difficult for Charon to explain what she found, but every time she found herself recalling, it was almost like she wanted to hurl. And as bad as it sounds, she knew that it was the safest place they can go.

No man or monster would come a step near that room, and that was their only option for a refuge.

Skidding down the halls, she slipped for a moment before running to her right, making a slight turn to dash towards room 13. The door was open, so it didn't took long for her to slam it open with her right side, barreling in.

Side stepping, Charon pushed herself back and closed her eyes, pushing all of her bodyweight and theirs to close the door shut.

Ca-chunk!

...

The strench was stronger than last time, she notes. But it was the price she had to pay, as its for the sake of their safety.

And it would seem that it paid off, considering their heart beat stopped thundering when the hunter got near. She did screamed in disgust at the smell permeating from the room they're in, making her chuckle.

Ah... It was worth the effort.

Looking down at Navina's body, she laid them down. She needed to ignore the monstrosity of the patient's body that used to reside in the room, since the novelist had passed out.

Turning to the door, the embalmer opened it up enough to let light pass, this time turning to see the damage on the other survivor's body to see what happened.

... Sheesh.

Pulling the handle of the case off of her arm, she opened it and grabbed the items she needed.

No time.

She raised the syringe she retrieved, and the scalpel she had always thought of carrying for an emergency extraction.

It's time to operate on a patient.

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2024

[hvonart]

In Baku's dreamscape, where oil and sky entwine, Petroleum whispers in midnight hues, Flames of Ateshgah dance like silk in twilight blue, Cobblestone shadows weave golden tales, As the Caspian's breath lulls the eternal fire to sleep.

Discover more travel tips for City Breaks in Europe: book24h.online

[binxysage]