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jamilelucato · 7 months

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The Writer and The Illustrator (Part 01)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Miss [y/n] Summary: Miss [y/n] is not your average young lady, for she is also W. Jabber, a talented writer who challenges societal norms. All was well until her publisher presented her with a new challenge—to write a children's book disguised for adult readers and to have it illustrated. And to help her with the task, she knows only one good painter in London. Age rating: although this chapter is pretty chill for younger audiences, the next parts will have more explicit scenes, so let's keep it 18+. Author's note: I said I'd be back with the Bridgerton boys, and here I am! Benedict, for the win! Hope you guys like it! (Part 02 here!) To read Anthony's fic, click here! For other stories, click here. Enjoy! Miss [y/n] was a writer. A good one, she dared add. Of course, that was unnoticed by the people of the ton, who would not have appreciated female writing, even if it was that great.

For that precise reason, Miss [y/n] prospered in a secret double life, where she was a pleasant lady by day and a fierce author by night. Her publisher was the only man she considered a friend since he knew her true identity and was present in both parts of her life. Needless to say, such an intelligent and refined man, capable of admiring penmanship made by a woman, would already have a wife. And would be dangerously too old to be anything more than an extra father figure in Miss [y/n] 's history.

Being close and such, Mister Brendy often challenged [y/n] 's writing abilities, encouraging her to try new styles in every new book. He'd often advise her towards writing the genre most wanted by the public at that specific time, and [y/n] was always quick to agree — as she held Mr Brendy's opinions very highly. Also, her family desperately needed the money [y/n] provided anonymously. Pretending it was a subsidy presented by an old aunt from the country, the young woman allowed her family some great comfort; furthermore, she permitted herself the luxury of new dresses every season.

"Good afternoon, Mr Brendy. How are you this evening?"

The sky wasn't fully dark when Miss [y/n] popped into the tiny printer's shop, but she was confident enough that nobody followed her in; thus, she modelled no cape or undistinguished clothing. She was merely herself before her old chum and a couple more teen-boy workers.

"Very well, dear," the printer replied, holding a modest smile. Mr Brendy had gently round features, and his smile, even the smallest ones, was exceptionally pleasant to witness. "Hope you're ready to hear your next challenge."

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't, Mr Brendy," she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers over his table, looking for clues to his oncoming request. Most authors did not enjoy working with demands, but [y/n] thrived with them, and she was Mr Brendy's favourite because of it.

"Well, have you how many nephews and nieces again? I always forget; I'm sorry," Mr Brendy got up and walked towards Miss [y/n]'s chair.

"No need to be sorry, Mr Brendy — I, sometimes, forget as well," she smiled. "I currently have three nephews and one baby niece. She's such a lovely newborn!"

The gentleman placed his hands in his trouser pockets, scratching his throat before saying, "Yes, newborns are usually a delight—a blessing."

"Couldn't agree more," Miss [y/n] couldn't help her anxiety taking the best of herself. "But what does my siblings' offspring have to do with my upcoming, in need of writing, book?"

After another scratch of his throat, Mr Brendy finally spoke his true intentions. "Do you remember when you found me shivering from the rain outside and asked if I could publish your first book? And even cold, you managed to make all these demands regarding our partnership?"

"Of course, I remember! I was a baby lassie of fifteen years of age, but wasn't I a captivating writer even then?" Miss [y/n] was only joking but noticed that Mr Brendy wasn't less tense. "Does this talk have something to do with my demands? Do you need to lower my percentage of profit?"

Dear God, she hoped not.

"Nothing of such. Your books are bestsellers, Miss [y/n]. Money is not the problem," he said. "However, your other contract demand... The one where you work alone..."

"Yes?" she was desperately nervous.

"Would you be able to make an exception?"

There was silence in the room. It felt like even the employees outside the tiny office were muted, waiting for her answer.

"I'm sorry, Mr Brendy, but what are you implying? You want me to write in association with another author, is that it?"

"Not another author per se," he gritted his teeth, and the noise startled Miss [y/n]. "No," he restarted, "I don't want your writing to get jumbled up. You have a magnetic way of putting words to paper; I would never allow anyone else to interfere with that."

"Thank you," she said, happy for the compliment, though confused about how to respond. Mr Brendy was a good man, but he rarely presented free praise.

"I want you to work partnered with a painter, an illustrator. See, this is where your nephews come to action — children's books are the latest fashion, the genre bestseller of the hour. We have no author good enough to conquer that style the way we want," he paused, "— at least no better writer than you."

She was flattered but primarily confused. Her books weren't for children. Under the name of W. Jabber, she published pieces about politics and devotion, death and art, but all of that over a darker tone, very adult if you dare. What would be her place when speaking to children? What story could she have stored to tell those little kids rushing to a bookshop, looking for the newest realise?

"I want you to write a children's story the way only you could — designed for the parents. I want it perfectly disguised so that, when a parent fetches the book — tediously and only doing it for the quietness of their offspring — they get stunned to find out the narrative is very well made for them as much as the child."

"You reckon I could write such a thing?" she asked in a second of bravery. "I don't think I can."

"Upon rereading your latest, my dear, I discovered that if anyone can, it is you," he said. "When I first read Storms of Love, I could never have deduced the novel was about the Priest falling in love with his bastard son. At first glance, the story felt like a mother missing her son when he decided to go to seminary!"

She pressed her lips together, feeling shy. It was a horrible habit, as the lady knew she looked dreadful when she did it, but she couldn't help it. How many times, during balls, did she have to hear people praising her without knowing that Jabber was [y/n]?

"Again, thank you, Mr Brendy. You know I adore compliments," Miss [y/n] tried to smile, but she couldn't disguise her dismay. "Regardless, I…"

"I would never force you, Miss [y/n]!" the printer rushed closer to her, taking the liberty of placing a hand on her covered shoulder. "But before you say anything, know that the illustrator would be one of your selections, and we could do the whole interaction anonymously if you so desire."

"It's not the teamwork that unnerves me, Mr Brendy, but the writing of a children's book for adults." Miss [y/n] stared deep into Mr Brendy's eyes, but that was a wrong choice. His big, green eyes stared at her back, filled with hope for her to accept. How could she say no to the older man who knew her more than her father?

She placed her hand over his on her shoulder before saying, "Do you truly believe I am the best option for this chef-d'oeuvre? It takes courage to defy society with a youngsters' novel."

He smiled in that way only a proud grandparent could. "Yes, I believe you can."

After the conversation with Mr Brendy, Miss [y/n] at least managed to secure the illustrator would be her pick and not be some random person chosen by the printer.

That was exceptionally tricky, however. [y/n] did not know a bunch of painters — at least not enough that were indeed talented for her intentions or kind souls that would not reveal her identity. She did not want to be Lady Whistledown's next victim.

Miss [y/n] came up with one name and one name only. It was the only name not crossed from her list made in the dim candlelight of past midnight.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Thorny indeed. Could she trust him?

She and her parents had been friends with the Bridgerton family for years now, and Francesca was what [y/n] could call her best long-distance friend, but how far did she know Benedict?

He was a second son, which did not help his reputation, but there was no denying he was a gentleman and a remarkable artist. They used to play together at Aubrey Hall when they were both too young to feel ashamed.

Benedict was her friend, at least as far as being friends with a man could go for a single lady.

Subsequently, Miss [y/n] waited for the promised ball Lady Danbury would throw for the people of the ton, anxious to see if Benedict would say yes to her proposition and not tell anyone her little secret.

"Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]," said Lady Danbury, appearing out of thin air beside the young lady, "you look nervous. What for, my dear?"

[y/n] swallowed hard. "Do I? I suppose I could look like that, but I promise I'm fine as a horse."

"If that horse is about to go racing," said the old lady sharply. "Seriously, sweetie, entertain me. I fear this is the first ball I throw where nothing good happens. It starts to hurt this hostess's feelings, you know."

"Lady Danbury, well, if you must know…." [y/n] was certainly not about to tell her the real reason beyond her nervous appearance. Lady Danbury was a lady of gossip, and that was the last thing [y/n] needed. "My mama, just yesterday…" started [y/n], but she never managed to finish her lie because Lady Danbury interrupted her with a yell.

"Mister Bridgerton!"

Oh, Christ. [y/n] felt like she was all wet with sweat. What were the odds?

"Mister Bridgerton!" shouted the old lady again, this time prolonging the last name of the gentleman walking by.

"You know, Lady Danbury, I'm not obliged to answer since there are three 'Mister Bridgerton' alive at the moment," said Benedict, stopping closer with a grin. "Two of them are at this party right at this moment."

Lady Danbury hit him with her cane, and the gentleman pretended to feel pain beyond what he must have felt. "Very funny, Mr Bridgerton, but we both know one of them isn't even old enough to be called mister."

"Yes indeed; Colin is a not fully formed child, but I rather only Bridgertons talk about that," he joked.

Only when his giggle ceased did the tallest Bridgerton siblings notice Miss [y/n]'s presence. It was a bit embarrassing for her, as she was staring at him laughing and how magnificent he looked — so relaxed that his hair moved with the movement of his chest. She had to tilt her head quite a lot to face him, so there was no covering her gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. I did not see you there."

"Clearly," Lady Danbury whispered in her condescending tone, making her sound like a teenager.

"Good evening, Mr Bridgerton," Miss [y/n] said, ignoring Lady Danbury's comment and smiling at the gentleman before her. She had been looking for him after all.

"And now you two have been officially introduced," said Lady Danbury surly, allowing no interruptions. "Can I finally talk to you, Mr Bridgerton, about what I wanted?"

"You, calling upon me, had a reason!" said the Bridgerton man at the same time Miss [y/n] burst: "We knew each other already!"

"Oh, all right," Lady Danbury sighed, defeated. Benedict and [y/n] smiled, feeling victorious — but Benedict's smile was broader. "Mr Bridgerton, I insist on talking to you as I'm sure you must be anxious to meet my niece."

"Your niece?" he echoed.

"Yes, the one coming from Chester," continued the old lady. "Winnie Danbury. You had heard about her coming, yes?"

Lady Danbury's eyes seemed challenging as if asking for one of them to deny her tellings, as [y/n] was sure no one mentioned Miss Winnie before. However, they both stayed silent, agreeing with a head shake.

"Miss Winnie Danbury," said [y/n], testing the name, "is it her first time here in London?"

Lady Danbury moved her body to face Miss [y/n] as she had partially forgotten about the girl's presence. [y/n] was a charm; the old lady had only good things to say about her, but sometimes the Miss would rather stay in a corner barely lit, which infuriated Lady Danbury. Miss [y/n] was a beauty; she needed to be seen more often — even if society didn't agree with the elderly lady.

"Yes, it is," replied the aunt. "Oh, she's beautiful, Mr Bridgerton. And so talented! Did you know she plays five different instruments?"

Of course she does, [y/n] thought, sighing to herself. The anonymous writer dreamed of playing an instrument or, at least, being able to draw. She'd like to have another artistic talent besides writing. It was well viewed when a woman played wonderfully and even painted; it all did better than writers. Writing for a woman was like talking to the devil; her great-uncle had told her once when she'd suggested she had some talent for it.

"Lady Danbury, it will, undoubtedly, be a pleasure to meet another member of your family," said the gentleman.

"Especially if she's like you," whispered [y/n], afraid her tone sounded too provocative for the old lady's ears.

"But," continued Benedict, pretending not to have heard the young woman's comment, although the left corner of his mouth indicated otherwise, "is there any reason you should be offering your niece to me?"

"Why, yes! You are the oldest Bridgerton bachelor at the moment," said Lady Danbury and turned to Miss [y/n] before restarting, "and it would be a lovely match, wouldn't it?"

[y/n] had no reason to disagree.

"Of course. A Danbury with a Bridgerton, the missing couple in London."

Lady Danbury smiled as if she knew more than those young fools, and touching Benedict with her cane, she began to depart.

"I'll leave you alone, as I feel that my mission here is already complete."

"Oh no, please," Benedict pronounced sarcastically, "stay and tell us more about Miss Winnie."

But Lady Danbury had already turned away and walked away from the two of them, focusing her attention on Penelope Featherington, who was creeping through the room, trying hard not to be noticed.

Mr Bridgerton looked immediately unnerved by the noble lady's departure as if he didn't know what to say to Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. And he didn't.

The two had known each other for a while and were even good friends, but she remained an unmarried woman in the presence of an unmarried man, and alone, the two seldom exchanged words. They were sharp when doubled against another Bridgerton or one of her brothers, but Benedict had always seen her as just one of the women of the ton.

She had her appeal, a magnificence in disguise. For example, she didn't take anyone's breath away but wasn't ugly to look at. In addition, she had more prominent curves than other women, a virtue when it came to her cleavage but a flaw when considering her corset region.

Benedict never judged her for that. On the contrary, he liked knowing she had something he could hold onto.

No.

He didn't like it.

Why exactly am I thinking about Miss [y/n]'s curves? The gentleman chastised himself. Forget it before you say something foolish!

Miss [y/n] noticed the dreadful hush and decided to speak first since she had something to say.

"Mr Bridgerton, I... I'd like to have a word with you," she felt her cheeks flush with nervousness. "In a less... crowded place."

Benedict gulped. So he spoke aloud. Bollocks.

"I have a business proposition. Perhaps it will interest you," she resumed, relieving Benedict immediately. "You still paint, yes?"

"Yes," he replied overly quickly.

"And you draw?"

"Well, yes." The gentleman stopped talking to reminisce. Would she like a portrait? Strange. No one hired painters during balls, and never, ever should a single lady ask a gentleman for a painting (at least not if she wasn't interested in the man himself).

Does she have an interest unrevealed? He thought but renounced the idea. It was [y/n] who stood before him. The same girl who played in the mud and one day made fun of him for having such fragile hands.

She had no interest in Benedict other than his artistic gifts.

"Need a painting, Miss?"

"Not precisely…" She looked nervous. "Can you pace with me to the refreshment table?" she asked, walking over to it before hearing him nod. It was the least guarded place in the salon at that moment.

He followed her, for he was too curious to drop it.

"How would you feel…" she started saying after analysing their surround "if it was offered to you a chance to illustrate a book?"

"A book?" he echoed, a bit too loud.

[y/n] waited a bit before continuing.

"A children's book, but adults can deeply interpret it."

"That's rather specific," he pointed out. So what was the meaning of all that? How was [y/n] in any power to offer him such a proposition?

"Mr Bridgerton, I simply want to know if you could be interested. If you are not, then I'll never mention it again," she said, her voice slightly shaky, even though she was playing chilliness.

Benedict took a step further, thinking she was out of her mind and only his closeness could bring her to her senses. "How can you do me such an offer, Miss? As I recall, your father is not in the editing, writing and printing business."

She closed her eyes tight, not believing she was about to confess to Benedict Bridgerton.

"But I am."

"Yeah, right," snorted the Bridgerton gentleman, crossing his arms in front of his chest. But [y/n] stayed utterly silent; she didn't dare utter a word, and Benedict could not stare at her big, closed eyes for that long without wondering: who was she? He was momentarily sure he didn't know. "[y/n]?" he called her, daring, in a whisper, to utter her first name.

[y/n] opened her eyes, surprised that Benedict had used her first name. She had always thought of him as Mr. Bridgerton, the handsome and charming gentleman whom society's most eligible ladies always surrounded. But now, she was asking him for help and needed to trust him with her secret.

"Yes, it's true," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm W. Jabber, the author of several books. I published under a male pseudonym."

Benedict was stunned. He had heard of W. Jabber's work and greatly admired "his" writing. He had no idea that the author was Miss [y/l/n], the girl he had known since childhood. He looked at her, seeing her in a new light. She was not just the girl who played in the mud; she was a talented writer who broke society's rules to pursue her passion.

"I had no idea," he said, his voice full of awe.

"I know," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's not something I can share with many people."

"And you want me to illustrate your next book?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his childhood friend was a published author.

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I've been working on a new book, and I think your illustrations would be perfect for it."

Benedict smiled, feeling honoured that she had asked him. "I'd love to help you," he said. "But how will we do it in secret? We can't let anyone know."

"I have a plan," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Meet me tomorrow at the park, and I'll tell you all about it."

Benedict nodded, feeling a sense of excitement at the thought of working with [y/n] on a secret project. He had always admired her intelligence and wit, but now he saw a new side that intrigued him even more.

As they returned to the salon, Benedict couldn't help but wonder what other secrets Miss [y/n] [y/l/n] was hiding. But for now, he was content to focus on their new project, a collaboration that would push the boundaries of society and showcase their talents in a way that no one else could.

#benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x yn #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton #polin #lady danburry

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sharb · 25 days

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Dee's Funkin' Game - Update #18

Ok so this month's actually been really good for me, finally figured out a solid direction to go with the game that's not too far off from what the game already was, it's still going to be about exploration but the levels will be broken up by an overworld map to tally up your progress and fast travel between stages. Key collecting is still going to be an important factor as well as finding as many gems as you can.

to start off, we finally have a new level type to explore, the sea port, this is the first stage of the game, intending to get you introduced to the main gameplay loop and give you an idea of what you're supposed to be doing, your path gets blocked up until you buy an ability from Brendy to progress. That said Brendy's shop now works a bit differently, instead of collecting small gems to unlock powers you need to collect big gems, small gems can still be used for items but they'll be passive upgrades and hints on what to do to make progress.

I want to keep it so that you lose gems when you get hit instead of a traditional health system but to be more lenient at the end of every stage the gems you collected gets tallied up into a total, so you can progress to another level without risking losing a tonne of gems in the process.

Read more on my patreon

#godot #indie game #game development #patreon #indie #dee #monthly update

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rhmis-user-2020 · 4 months

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OC bio - Brendan Alfredson

{•}~FULL NAME~{•} - {}Basic Information{}

Name/First name: Brendan

Second name: None

Last name: Alfredson

Nicknames or Alias: Bren (Eugene), Brendy (Marcellus), Brenny (Eugene), Brendino (Lance), Brenzelle (Rapunzel) and Brendo (Cassandra)

Age: 19 (Season 1), 20 (Season 2) and 21 (Season 3)

Age Appearance: 16

Sexuality:

Born sex/Sex at birth: Boy

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Date: 20th of January

Zodiac: Aquarius

Species: Human

Disorders(s): Port wine stain (a vascular birthmark caused by abnormal development of blood vessels in the skin)

{}Personality{}

Likes: Poetry, books, reading, chit-chatting, helping out his friends, making friends, his adoptive parents and singing

Dislikes: Being ridiculed for having a birthmark, bullies, his biological parents and annoying topics

Positive/Neutral personality traits: Enthusiastic, determined, curious, optimistic, creative, empathetic and honest

Negative personality traits: Embarrassed, nervous, worried and bewildered

Hobbies: Writing, reading and painting

Overall personality: He is shown to be enthusiastic, determined, curious, optimistic, creative, empathetic and honest but also embarrassed, nervous, worried and bewildered.

{}Appearance{}

Hair colour: Black hair

Hair length: Short

Skin colour: Fair-skinned

Eye colour: Green

Height: 5'1 (Season 1), 5'2 (Season 2) and 5'3 (Season 3)

Weight: 50

Scars or freckles?: None

Glasses or contacts?: None

Tattoos?: None

Birthmarks?: Dark red stains on his face, neck, chest, arms, hands and legs

Piercings?: None

{}Life{}

Place of birth: Corona

Present home: Corona

Work/Occupation: Cabinetmaker

Backstory

|(Ever since he was born, the male is born with port wine stain birthmarks covering his entire body as his parents just saw him as a mistake so Brendan was soon abandoned in the streets of Corona in a basket. Until A kind man glimpses him and legally adopts him, providing him with love and support. While Brendan was and always has been facing bullying and discrimination due to his birthmarks. His father was there for him if he needed the most, but sadly. Not much is known about his biological parents.)|

{}Family/Friends{}

Father(S): Thomas (Adoptive father)

Information: The man who adopted the boy legally and took care of him, the man was a sympathetic and supportive father to Brendan. Often protecting him from people who hurt him like bullies, and discrimination as the father will try and make Brendan's life easy.

Friends: Marcellus, Rapunzel, Eugene, Lance and Cassandra.

Information: Brendan and Marcellus met each other in the town, and he was shocked to see Marcellus who was abandoned by his parents for being different or born different into an orphanage who abused him. And was taken by to be treated like a cleaner or cooker in their house, and the horrific incident at the age of 13 where Marcellus was beaten and had his leg cut off by his parents as a "punishment" as he was empathetic and gave condolence towards Marcellus.

Rapunzel: The princess and Brendan will often have meetings and he will often thank her father for making his life easier.

Eugene: While the thief wasn't keen on him, he soon grew to like Brendan and think of him as talented.

Lance: Even if he annoyed him, he still showed a sympathetic side of him towards Lance.

Cassandra: She and Brendan do meet at times, and they do have a friendly conversation at times.

»»-————☾-————««

Real diversity and inclusion don't mean that we will always agree. It means that even when we disagree, we can still respect each other.

»»-————☾-————««

Credit: Mush and ⛤ʟօst ɖʀɛaʍɛʀ⛤ on Amino

#tangled the series #tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta #tts oc #rta oc #original character #fan character #gacha life #lunime #gacha life 2 #port wine stain

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copcomco · 3 months

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Beat the Heat with Ron Regé, Jr!

IT'S OVER!

Philosophy, theosophy, mythography and much more mix it up in page after page of engaging comics powered by satisfying cartooning that work together to inform and entertain. This work amply demonstrates the strength of Rege’s artistic abilities that he has developed over his three decades of comics making .

and

SHELL 100!

And then we have… (The) Shell (of the Self of the Senses) 100! While T.S.O.T.S.O.T.S. is a subscription-only publication, Rege is releasing this celebratory 100th issue to the public and select stores. In addition to Rege’s own work, this issue’s 48 pages are filled with the comics by special guest contributors – all of whom are subscribers, just FYI. So get ready to enjoy some great work by Brendi Rioux, Patrick Kyle, C.F., John Porcellino, Jordan Crane, Chr PShaw, Arrington de Dionyso & Jason T. Miles, all done in the spirit of The Shell of the Self of the Senses, much, if not all, of which is unlikely to be reprinted. Don’t miss it!

NOW AVAILABLE and READY FOR IMMEDIATE SHIPPING.

#Ron Rege #C.F.#John Porcellino #self-published comics #small press comics #patrick kyle #Jordan Crane

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sterlingpiner · 2 years

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Walking dead bridge constructor

WALKING DEAD BRIDGE CONSTRUCTOR HOW TO

WALKING DEAD BRIDGE CONSTRUCTOR SERIES

Otherwise, change the angles of the ramps slightly if required. The single piece of steel supporting it can be filled in to increase surviving Walkers if less than ten make it into the trailer. You also need to keep the trailer clear for the characters, so build a smaller bridge over it. Play around as the angle of this throw can drastically change the Walkers movements and yield much different results. These ramps also allow the Walkers on the higher platforms to survive the inevitable fall as they follow it. Probably the hardest part of this mission is getting Eugene’s toy to bounce off the ramps, back into the truck. There are fourteen on this side of the screen, so ideally you can build so the other four will not survive. Over to the right, you need to get ten Walkers into the truck. It’s fine as long as the whole thing doesn’t collapse as a result. The truck may collide with the bottom of the bridge so don't build too low. Instead, place it wherever you can and drag it into the vertical position shown. Certain struts will need to be replaced with steel as shown to sustain the pressure.įor some reason, the vertical steel strut on the very right side of the bridge may not be able to be placed as shown. No release date, obviously, but it's for next generation consoles as well as current gen and PC, so that gives us a broad window of at some point in the great unknown that is the future.For the large bridge spanning the gap in the building on the left, try to construct with as much wood as possible, although you should be well under the resource cap.

WALKING DEAD BRIDGE CONSTRUCTOR SERIES

So, room for optimism, even though they probably jumped the gun a bit on the reveal. About this game AMC’s The Walking Dead meets Bridge Constructor Create elaborate constructions and lethal traps A captivating plot featuring new faces as well as iconic characters and vehicles from the series Numerous brainteasing levels and countless brain-eating walkers Make use of.

WALKING DEAD BRIDGE CONSTRUCTOR HOW TO

It seems that actually ClockStone know how to integrate signature doo-dads from an existing series into a bridge constructing environment, and make it work. TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA This list shows the victims Kyra has killed: Numerous counts of zombies. Not much is known about Kyra's life before the apocalypse began. The first Was Bridge Constructor Portal, and it was actually pretty bloody good, at least if Brendy's thoughts on it (RPS in peace) are anything to go by. Kyra is the protagonist in Bridge Constructor: The Walking Dead. The description sounds a bit humdrum, but this is the second tie-in version of Bridge Constructor. Please enjoy the slightly wrong proportions of Norman Reedus's head in this rendering. I also have to imagine it because it is not confirmed and, I must stress, nothing has been shown except that live-action trailer, and this piece of key art. Since this is Bridge Constructor but with shambling enemies, I have to imagine that perhaps some tower defence or other clever extra bits will be appliquéd on top of the puzzle-y bridge building. We are promised the chance to team up with fan-favourite characters like Michonne, Daryl and Eugene, as well as using "movable level objects, explosives and baits to your advantage" to lure zombles into traps. So, possibly the RV that Negan lives on in between battering people? Una nueva versión del género, desarrollada por los creadores del aclamado Bridge Constructor Portal.¡Prepárate para la mejor experiencia de mashupUnirse a. In Bridge Constructor: The Walking Dead, you will lead a team of survivors through bleak and ruined landscapes as you do this, and those vehicles will be "iconic ones" from the series. The gist of Bridge Constructor has always been to build a bridge using finite resources and your vague memories of how physics works, and hope it's strong enough to bear up under the weight of vehicles crossing it. Cliff notes are: it has bridge construction, it has zombies, and those zombies are the same ones that have been troubling Andrew Lincoln and his son Coral for all these years. What's more stressful than constructing a shonky haphazard bridge? Why, constructing a shonky haphazard bridge while zombies attack, of course! Developers ClockStone and publishers Headup Games revealed Bridge Constructor: The Walking Dead today at Gamescom Opening Night Live, with a live-action teaser trailer and so little else that the Steam store page just has screenshots from the production of that teaser trailer.

#Walking dead bridge constructor

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uncanny-tranny · 3 years

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Going to reiterate but if your first response to talking about trans people is to tell other people their dead name, or their sex, or describe in detail their transition without prior consent, then you're. just transphobic.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #transphobia #transphobia tw #just annoyed that whenever i read about a trans figure seeing 'hehe their dead name was [this] and their sex was [this] hehehehehe!'#i don't CARE that billy bob was known as brendi once! i don't careeeee i just wanna know about his *work* and what he's *done*#how many times does it need to be said #idk my biggest pet peeve is repeating myself over and over and over and over and over again. pisses me off immediately

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corporal-void · 2 years

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Ryuzuki Void!

Or you may call it

Ryū, Violet/red void, dragon void

Ryu is void gender

- You can use any pronounce -

(Loves/likes)

• night , Quiet, breezy air, drawing, friends, meeting other artists, fandoms, art supplies, family, sleeping,cold days , animals

(Hate/dislikes)

•Noisy,hot air, annoying childrens, stealers, stealing my username/arts/oc , fake friends, lacking of motivation, bullies, hot days/summer, being looked or stared at , communicate (ryu is shy) ,too many work, exhausted

[ Personalities / about Ryū/ and some extra's]

Ryū was a humanoid void dragon

Its purple glowing eyes represents the void while the red is darkness.

Ryuzuki was a really shy

Like the mention earlier it hate being started at hahahha like 096 bruh

I made ryu since i was a bendy and the ink machine fan

I named it Brendy luna dragon

For me i wanna change her lol

• The reason why i changed its name to Ryuzuki Void cause some users who idolize me much kept stealing my name(my oc's name)

•Ryuzuki 's old design was on my Instagram (corporal_void)

• The stripes in it's body represents the dark n void

• Like i said Ryuzuki was a void gender (not me in irl)

• Ryu was a artist it start drawing while he was 2 years old until now (me too)

• The fandom it loves was Scp(mainly) madness combat and lil bit mlp (but it doesn't like childish act)

• Hates to wear dress / sleeve less

• Eh its Quiet

• 106 / corporal Lawrence ( most favorite character in scp)

• director Phobos and hank ( in madcom)

• Nightmare moon/luna Fluttershy (mlp)

#void #voidsona #voidgender #dragon #dragonsona #oc #original character #persona avatar #corporal lawrence #scp 106 #ibispaint art #dont steal #about my characters #about my ocs #character personalities

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justsomerandomntmranking · 3 years

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My Thoughts On Mongolia's Next Top Model Cycle 3

Memes aside, this cycle is the first of this series that I actively followed and enjoyed. This came after the first 2 cycles of Mongolia's Next Top Model, which I say would be the best series if not for the ending of it, when the eventual winner, Chamia, would die from a fall off a building, which many, including myself, think was murder by either her boyfriend or another model on the show. Anyways, due to that, the series went on hiatus for 2 years, making people wonder if the series would ever come back. However, it came back with the thanks of the new COVID pandemic and a new TV program and a host who doesn't help people get murdered. It was nice seeing it back and I will happily say, it gladly lived up to the hype they were preparing for us after the death of Chamia (I will review MNTM one day but I don't know if I ever do Chamia's cycle just because it doesn't feel right, go on my ask and see if you would want that). A big part of why the cycle in general was just great was because of the cast.

As always with this type of series, the cast is very strong. We had mixed Vietnamese with Dieu, Hanna's more Anna-Taylor Joy look, Nuna and Naraa just looking stunning, Dino was the better Brendi K of the cycle, same makeover and everything, Mendy looked like the first winner of MNTM, and Tsolmon was just expensive looking. I loved this cast look clearly as they all look so different and Mongolia embraced the casts' look and also gave some creative yet versatile makeovers.

My biggest problem with the cycle was the group twists. Every other episode until the finales, the girls would be put into 2 groups and the winner of the groups would receive immunity. The rest would have to do a runway challenge and the worst of the walkers would be eliminated. It screwed over a lot of girls like Hanna, who would never win any of the group challenges and keep much weaker models like Dino and Khulanii. Indonesia's NTM C2 is doing it much MUCH worse though because they do it every goddamn episodes.

Ignoring all of the flaws, the photoshoots were super creative, one of the best in any NTM in my opinion. We started off really well with a fire runway, inspired by ANTM's but much more safer and more cooler, but the cycle kinda hit a wall for me when we had a pretty boring duos shot, inspired by All Stars from ANTM and a shitty car photoshoot. However, the cycle took a big shot up with its super cute ads shot and one of the best photoshoots out of the entire series, its tights photoshoot where the girls would play with illusions. Plus, the cyberpunk themed photoshoot using new camera angles and risks is just amazing to look at. Finally, the challenge shots were super high quality for a background image and if I were to rank them, most of them would be in the top 10 list.

(Pictured Below: Akune and Hanna: View full photos here)

Oh yeah, the winner Hanna! Hanna really started off 2022 with a big bang. I mentioned how much she looked like the asian Anna Taylor Joy to me. She had pretty shit teeth but ignoring that, she was the most consistent throughout the cycle. She wasn't as meme-worthy as Kyveli though but we got some meme worthy content from her. Mostly, her judgemental "bitch please" looks into the camera. There was some hate for her win due to her connection to the host but like Saleshia, who cares, as long as you modelled the shit out of the show then connections be damned

Now, the notable models of the cycle!

Key Models:

- Nuna got the awesome pink hair of the cycle, which I fucking adored. I love dyed up hair like that (Adela PhNTM C2) and she worked it! It's a shame that the group twist of the cycle fucked her because she was a worthy final 3 contender.

- Tsolmon was just expensive looking, height be damned because she carried the cycle with her personality and modeling skills. She would've been a great winner for the show, even if her height would be a big issue for the judges

- Khatnaa was the judge's pet project for the cycle due to her braces, age, and her inexperience. I say as a new up-and-coming model, she really carried her own during the cycle, despite being dragged unfairly to the final 2.

- Dieu is so adorable! I loved her "out of the balls to the walls" modeling, she didn't really have a chance to do any modeling post show but she took a lot of risks throughout the show. It was great to see her make it to the semi finales and her massive improvement throughout.

- Dino is like Brendi K when she was unfairly dragged to the almost end, except she was actually eliminated for her best shot while Brendi K quitted and would've most likely stayed. She was a lovely girl but her photo quality was a oof.

Best Model

Hanna

Obvious is obvious, a lot of the models this cycle could easily take the award from me but the winner was one of my favorites from me. Shoutout to Tsolmon and Nuna as well since they completed hard for this spot!

Photo of the Cycle

Tsolmon's Dansran Jewelries Beauty Shoot

This shot won POTY from RGB for a good reason, this shot showcases her face well and her amazing model potential.

Worst Model

Khulanii

It's hard to choose a model here because I don't hate anyone this cycle but Khulanii comes close for me mostly because she never looked like a model to me, just ok to me (plus her walk is a MESS).

Most Robbed Model

Naraa

It's hard to choose a model for this spot since I agree with most of the eliminations but Naraa came close for me. Naraa was a stunning gal but her elimination was complete bullshit. She got screwed over by the group twist, leading her to fuck up on the runway and unfairly eliminated, she deserved better!

This took me a while to finish but yeah, enjoy!

#mntm #ntmranking

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officialleehadan · 6 years

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UnSpun

“Not this time.”

Raeca darted forward past Haroun and Brendis, magic already glowing around her hands as she called to the true nature that made her what she was.

In short, a healer. More importantly, a healer trained by the Dark Sword, who spent a frankly absurd amount of time healing the Hero from things that really ought to kill him.

“No!” Calliope shrieked when she realized what Raeca was doing, and tried to scramble away, determined to end her life and escape to the next before anyone could stop her.

“Brendis, hold her,” Raeca snapped without taking her eyes off the blade, where it sat buried in Calliope’s heart. “Haroun, I need power.”

By herself, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t save someone who had a split-heart, and who was already bleeding out across the floor.

But she wasn’t alone.

“Of course,” Haroun said, although his voice was confused as well, as he tried to figure out what she was doing. “Raeca, what-“

“I can save her,” Raeca snapped, with little precious time to explain, and no focus to spare. “Throw me a line of power.”

“Right.”

Calliope tried to shove her away, but Brendis captured her hands, gentle, but much, much stronger than she was, and perfectly capable of holding her down. Blood stained the queen’s white gown crimson and spread to the white marble below her, and to Raeca’s hands.

“This is all your fault,” Claiiope hissed as Raeca linked with Haroun, practiced after nearly a year as his sometimes-student. “You just had to intervene in our destiny! I set it in motion! I knew Brendis would never turn on me- the simple fool- but it was so easy to convince you to kill him for me!”

“Love makes a man do crazy things,” Haroun said darkly, one hand on Raeca’s shoulder as she went to work. “Three thousand years and we never stood against you. No more.”

“This prophesy is more a curse than a promise,” Raeca told her sharply, although her hands didn’t shake as she drew the crystal-hilted blade from Calliope’s heart bit by bit, healing the terrible damage as she went. When she ran out of power, easy to do with such detailed, difficult work, she drew on Haroun, who stood by, a pillar of power, even after a major magical battle. “And it’s hurt you so much, my dear friend. And it is time for it to end.”

“You cannot end it!” Calliope went from fighting to sobbing as Raeca’s magic worked on her. A powerful healing, especially of a lethal wound, was a painful thing, and Raeca didn’t dare spend the power to make it painless. As it was, it would take every scrap of power she could muster just to save the queen. “It is Prophesy, written in the Book of Fate!”

The dagger clattered brightly against the marble when Raeca dropped it to the side, and finished her work, sweaty and shaking, but triumphant.

“Now,” she said, and turned her defiant gaze on Calliope, who was ghost-pale, covered in her own blood, and captured. “For your prophesy.”

It was a trick the common folk kept to themselves. Something that no one ever seemed to remember, and never used, even when they knew it existed. The true, full circle of magic.

The Highest magics were powerful. They were flashy, and brilliant. They could change the world on a whim and a handwave from a single mage.

The Middle magics, like Raeca’s healing, were more simple. To close a wound, or summon fire, they were the magics most often used by mages everywhere. Neither vulnerable, nor invulnerable, they stood without shame, but also without notoriety.

But it was the Low magics that everyone forgot. The spells and tricks so minor that anyone could learn them with a little patience. How to make a potion of healing, or of sleep. How to find water, or know the weather with nothing but the scent of the wind.

Low magic would never call fire. It would never change the weather, or save a life.

But the High Magics were vulnerable to it, and today, that would change everything.

No country girl was ever without a bit of wool and a tiny thread spindle. Raeca used hers to spin the fine thread she used to stich wounds, but most maidens had one, tucked in their pockets, if only for something to do with their hands.

Raeca’s was in her pocket, intact against all odds, and with a shred of undyed, half-spun wool already wound onto it.

With the blood of a queen on her hands, Raeca got her little spindle going, for once, in the wrong direction.

“The Three always stand as Three,” she spoke the words of their prophesy as the thread on her spindle began to come apart under the force of a bobbin-light spindle. “One shall turn, and Two will Stand Together to face the One.”

They had done that, when Calliope turned on them back in the beginning. When she convinced Brendis to murder his closest friend to protect her from a betrayal that had not come. Now, so many years later, they finally stood together to face the queen who cost them so dearly.

“Darkness will break against their Will,” she continued, practiced fingers on her little spindle as it whirled around, unwinding the threads of Fate as the thread began to fray apart. The snow-white wool glowed with golden threads as the prophesy, spoken by a long-dead prophet within the walls of the very hall they now stood in, gathered to the call of magic that was even older yet. “and the Circle will finally be Broken.”

It should have been loud, the breaking of a prophesy. It should have been thunder, and fire, and the scream of steel through the air.

Instead it was the clatter of a small wooden spindle clattering onto a polished stone floor.

+++

Never Free:

A warrior, a sorcerer, and a queen reincarnate each time they die. Doomed to kill each other over and over until their prophesy is fulfilled, each battles to keep their sanity as the centuries drag on with no end in sight.

Their healer thinks all three of them are being just a little bit ridiculous.

Round and Round Again

Mistaken Step

Spinning Wheel

Stronger Together

Tea and History

Girl Talk

History Past

Dizzy Spell

Herbs and String

Burning Oil

Ancient Alliance