#glpyhs

[shadowthehedgehog1]

After a long day there's nothing like getting cozy in bed with your plushies and the one you love

[llimerrence]

Thomasin huffs slightly, the young girl moving her hands, wiggling her fingers as though it would fix the issue. Her head falls to the side, looking at everything sideways, literally.

"But that doesn't make sense." Thomasin says, eyes closing as she feels the magic in the air around her. "I can hear it, I just can't understand it." Thomasin huffs, letting go of Raine to crouch down and draw in the dirt. She draws symbols, glyphs, then stands and points. "See? That's not how magic talks where I'm from. It's similar but--" Thomasin looks at the symbols on the ground. "It's like we're not speaking the same language."

@thcsevoices

“Hm.” The bard gently takes one of the young girl’s hands in their own, studying it. Magic came from the heart - well, the bile sac next to the heart - not the hands, but they could see how it would be frustrating to a fledgling witch. They didn’t quite understand what she meant, that it was specifically the magic here that wasn’t working, but they could at least offer some advice.

“Well, magic reacts differently to different users. It’s unpredictable and strange.” Raine hadn’t intended to quote their ex-girlfriend’s words, but without even realizing it, they recognized the statement as Eda’s. Shaking off the thought, they smile encouragingly at Thomasin. “Maybe you need to start thinking of it sideways, if what you were doing before isn’t working right anymore.”

@llimerrence

[drgmissioncontrol]

(just gonna carry on our story, pretending that mc's vacation never happened in-between. "ahem") . . .

Blue: "Ouuuugggghh... C-Control? ...C-Can ya read? Agh--... Wh-What in the bloody blazes WAS that? Th-Think I hit my head pretty hard from--

. . . What the...?" . . .

Death cratered into the room from above.

In a flash, the ceiling had been smashed through.

. . . In the blink of an eye.

50 Dread Barons had become 42.

8 Marines, crushed into bloody metal paste under a massive black-steel laser-core-infused drill built by the Rival Machines.

A drill that was as wide as 4 drop pods combined, carrying a black-steel box into the depths of this world that was the size of 5. Marked from top-to-bottom in Rival Glpyhs and Patterns…

Any barons that weren't crushed like tomatoes were thrown to the cave floor, dazed. Staring up at the enormous box.

Even the Power Scales and the Chief were floored by the crash-down of the box… rubbing at their visors to get the dust out of their vision.

Red: " . . . What. In. This galaxy?" Yellow: "What is that...? 'S massive!" Green: "The Barons! They were...!" Blue: "Red? Red, what-? What do we...?" Dread Baron Chief: " . . . B r o t h e r s . M Y . B R O T H E R S ! " Seeing the fate of his soldiers, the chief of the Barons began to shake with a believably unfathomable rage. Red: " . . . Control. What... what're your readin's sayin'?"

Management has been alerted. We’re awaiting orders. I’m scrambling another platoon of Marines as exfil, but the odds of them getting there before that… thing… reduces you to a fine red mist are low. I’d also recommend getting away from the Chief- you’ve heard the term seeing red? He personifies it.

Good luck, Miners. Rock and Stone.

[tohtakesthecake]

I read your intro post

And the part about wishing death results by horrendous mocking by a group of gay friends makes me kinda wanna know what it brings

Could i wish you, with all the love and respect, death of old age somewhere far in the future

And not to go too far from toh topic, something that was bugging me forever is a possible plot hole that was titans blood opening portals to other realms. But instead of using it father titan just hid King in a glpyh? What was even that glyph since its seems not related to the ones they had anywhere else. What if there is a bunch of Kings siblings that were shipped off to everywhere but King was the one that was in demon realm. Upping chances that at least one offspring survives if they are in many diffrent places

I think that's not correctly formed grammar, if it's not, sorry, english is strange for me

dw btw English is my first language and I stillsuck at it I am in no place to judge

I think the answer to your TOH question is simple enough: the writers simply didn’t think of doing that. They had a different idea and that’s where they went with it, simple as that.

Also that’s not rlly a death threat lol but what I mean by that is I’m going to send a screenshot of it to my friends and we’re all going to laugh/cry about it. Depends on the time of day and how depressed my friends are. However I thank you for the wish :3

[air-razor]

@honor-cxde

And here she goes, forgiving him again. It's true that they have made no promises, but in a way, Dreadwing has. He is better than this. Hell, he's made it a point to avoid emotional connection despite all these years because he does not want to break someone's heart.

The Seeker, despite his frametype's general stereotype, is no playboy.

But if he makes promises, connections, he fears he will be tied down, and the answer is out there, somewhere. Dreadwing refuses to believe that no one in all the near infinite worlds has ever managed to find a way to save a soul from Unicron. Someone out there has done it.

And yet... he feels compelled to be here. To be with her.

And the fair falcon has forgiven him again. Even though he does not deserve it.

There are no words. There is only emotion, raw and fresh, that drives him to lean down and capture Air Razor's mouth with his own in a kiss meant to convey how much he loves her.

Razor waits. Letting him think, letting him process. She knows that she will never be able to heal the void in his spark. When one are made two, and then two become one, it leads to a wound that will bleed eternally. Air Razor only hopes that she can sooth the pain to something more bearable. If he leaves, she will wait. When he comes back, she will be there. If he does not come back... She will keep the moments with him as a treasure. Curling a bit closer to him. Holding him just a little tighter. Rubbing her cheek against him as her wings try to intinctually shield him more. Hoping intuitively to hide him from the cruelty both from within as without. When he finally lifts his helm to look at her she waits for him to speak. But he's ever a mech of actions over glpyhs. His mouth against hers is almost as hot and unexpected as the first time she ever breathed fire. Optics going wide before her servo slips down to hold his shoulder tightly. Pushing up into the kiss with equal fervor. Hoping that he could feel the devotion she has for him. She cannot heal him. But she can love him.

[moth--punk]

okay noted expect info about glpyh and siren in the near future~

^w^

[fabianmaierbode]

MBI-DCMNT15 in use for some classic stationary applications for the upcoming @documentafifteen. Next to the typefaces Editorial New Regular from @pangram.pangram & Söhne Mono Buch by @klim_type_foundry Executed by @fishmacdrei with conceptual/consulting energy from @stanhema 🧠 Illustrations by @studio4oo2 • I personally want to say thank you @andrevanrueth for the best support during the development of this gothic-handlettered hybrid 🙏🏼 • Image-Repost from @fishmacdrei 

[xanican-exile]

@vencsian

Are you sure this will work?

No. Garmr's reply came swift and blunt in Venix's mind. I told you before we began, my memory of the times before we bonded are hazy, we are working with half remembered diagrams and circles, not the work of an expert magus.

Venix frowned as he continued carving symbols into the stones. On nights such as these, with both moons full in the sky, blanketing the land with aether, it was supposed to be possible for even a novice to pull creatures from the beyond the barrier. All one needed was the correct glpyhs to draw the aether in and the circle would begin to work on its own. It was one such creature the two of them were hoping to lure. This region had been plagued by an Outsider since midwinter, and Venix had been hired to deal with it. Despite searching for a week he'd barely found a trace of the supernatural creature.

Now, approaching his wits end, he and Garmr had one last idea before giving up. His sword recalled having seen summoning rituals in the past, during its time with its first wielder, but could only recall fragments of what it had looked like. Still, it was more of a lead than they had before, and if it worked, the two of them hoped that it would draw in the nearest Outsider before pulling in one from beyond the Barrier. Then it would be a simple matter of slaying the demon.

I think that's the last one. Venix sat on the ground, back and knees aching from crawling in a circle around their prepared summoning sight. It was a crude trap, Venix had never worked with glyphs like this, and he was certain a practiced magus would chide him over how rough his circle was, but he didn't need it to be a work of art, just functional for long enough to bring the Outsider to him.

You'll need more practice if we ever want to try this again.

I'm hoping we never have to. Venix replied. His eyes on the gylphs in front of him, waiting expectantly for a sign that they had begun to function.

Then perhaps we should begin working with a mage, somebody trained in this sort of-

Something's happening. Blue-white light was beginning to pool into the first of the glyphs. Aether was gathering just as they'd hoped. Venix rose to his feet, taking Garmr's sheathe off his back as he watched the glyphs begin to activate, a circular wall of light rising from the ground in front of him.

[springingfromnothing]

" I'm gonna say what I like. I'm not a politician- and when she makes the dictation of using your title and not mine? It's not belittlement, just observation from the mech on the other end." Plucking his cygar from his lips to make a flourishing gesture. Reaching out to brace a servo on one of the seats. Pressing down, testing, because he doesn't want to break something despite his glpyhs. Lowering himself when the pressure doesn't make it creak too badly. The chair thankfully has enough of a width to fit his aft too. A rare change for him when it comes to most things. Then again he supposed Seekers had enough fluff and kibble to need some sprawl room too. Rotors lifting then dropping over the back edge. Leaning on one arm, hearing it groan just a touch. Optics flickering slightly as he drawls," You do not know what opportunities I do or do not have Winglord. So it would behoove you as well to not make assumptions about me either. So let's start fresh? Commander Springer, reporting as requested per invitation of Winglord Starscream. What can I do for you Winglord? I wasn't expecting a formal invitation for a meeting this orn."

Springer cannot help but wonder... Why someone like Starscream had wanted to see him. Especially after his 'banishment' by Prime and his ilk. So here he is, smoking a cygar in a fancy-aft meeting hall, waiting to be 'called in'. Like...what even? Ignoring the way other mecha steer clear of his brooding bulk. ( >3c henlo )

The click of thrusters on a polished floor is the triple-changer's only warning that his space is soon to be invaded. A tall, slim flight-frame pauses in front of the mech's pedes. If Springer's optics travel northward, he'll see a Seeker in blues and blacks holding a datapad. Piercing yellow optics regard the other thoughtfully, tapping a stylus against the screen. "Springer? The Winglord will see you now."

[basedonequation]

@red-in-revolt cont’d

Ah-! Redstrike was teasing him? His glyphs suggest as such. Prowl’s overjoyed he’s managed the conversation this long without utterly ruining it. He can hope that his streak lasts through the art exhibit and their meal. Logic tells him at this time, he as a One-third chance of success. Which is far improved from his more miniscule ten percent change of success when he had sent the gift to Redstrike to begin with. :: Considering my occupation. I would hope I would be. Regardless of appreciation, I thought that at least the fact this artist has refused all over public displays might intrigue you. A-:: Prowl mulls over the proper word. :: A historical event, art wise. Even if you find his art itself... less grand then expected.:: He settles for it, glpyhs noting a dry sort of amusement and maybe the suggest of a dark humor. He folds his digits together. Doorwings bobbing slightly. Distracting himself briefly from work. He’s ahead of his cases and all of his datawork is otherwise completed. Barring any emergencies... he might- Well maybe he’d leave early? :: Your discussion has done more than rub off on me. I might have added a bit of color to my office space since our last discussion.:: Glancing to the wall that he looks at most often. The one directly across that holds his door. It had been silver-grey and unadorned this entire time. Now there is a small painting dead center of a spiraling helix pattern in red and gold with Black glpyhs that are partially obscured behind it. It is meant to show beauty and harmony in matrix formations. But the glpyhs behind with its swooping lines that spell ‘calm’ stand out in the somewhat chaotic nature that the strokes of a traditional brush create. :: Nothing overtly sized. But... I find that having it does improve my productivity and adds...personality to my office space. My superior actually asked if I was unwell when he spotted it. Then my clade sibling came to see if it was actually present since my superior notified my unit that I had installed art in my office. He was rather proud of me. Though I am unsure why.:: A little snort to himself, lip curling slightly. :: Regardless. IF you wish to bring a gift I would not feel stepped upon or imposed. Simply bring yourself and anything else you desire. The space for our meal is indefinitely ours for the entire evening. We may spend as little, or as much time sitting if the rest of the art display does not tantilize you. Then we can enjoy some talk in the garden itself and I shall have found it an evening worth spending.:: Not really thinking about how that might sound. Prowl simply wanted Redstrike to know that he wanted to enjoy the gift of his presence. The art was something to do and to give a conversational plot point if need be. Or it could be the subject of needling and Prowl could watch Redstrike in his expert element explaining why the art was drivel.

[what-the-heck-is-rwby]

!!!!!!!!!!!

WAIT HOLD ON I GOTTA GO FIND SOMETHING

I WAS RIGHT

WEISS’S SUMMONING GLPYH LOOKS DIFFERENT THAN WINTER’S 

I already knew that they looked different from their normal snowflake glyphs, but they also look unique to the PERSON. Winter’s one when she summoned the Beowulf has these swirlies on it, and Weiss’s one here has what HAVE to be swords

Are the different depending on what you’re trying to summon? Or just from person to person. Like would Weiss’s one look like this regardless, does it change?

Also, your fallen foes, the ones who pushed you to become who you are now. So they can only summon specifically Grimm that they’ve killed before? And ones significant to them. So how is a swarm of Nevermores and a Beowulf significant to Winter? And what is Weiss going to summon?

[blusteringoldfoolarchived]

nickname: Old Mech [drawled, a little mimic to the way Kup himself draws out glyphs. But its got a faint growling burr to it, a harmonization that he elongates with it. Implicating an individual worth honor and respect, a mechanism who has fought hard and deserves rest.] Mentor [A little more clipped. Proper Iaconian glyphs but a playful rasp to the edges of it and his claws give a little hooking flick gesture. Adding a polyhexian twist. Someone that Optimus respects and admires, and desires to make proud.] Dear Spark [Softly, warmly. Humming around the glpyh almost. Like he could sing it for the other.]

“You call me old mech, I start calling you Bigrig.”

[silverstudios]

Just the slow head turn and squinted eyes at alex and then at the glyph, and then back at them.

Also idea- the first veli glpyh she learns is like- a shade one. For contrast reasons (Cause light glpyh was the first titan one, make sense that shadow/shade glyph for Six one)

Crackpot crossover what if Raine Whispers and Alex Williams met?

[gowithplana]

Is Optimus safe from Meme's strange messages being sent over the comm lines despite his offline status? Yes.

"There’s a starman, waiting in the sky."

Optimus gets odd messages occasionally. Sometimes from others missing a glpyh or number and by luck getting his instead which has lead to some pleasant conversations . Some are deliberate, using a connection from mechs around him to reach out to him. Those are usually nipped in the bud. This- Optimus feels his spark flip with concern. So discretely he puts an information bounty out on the boards to see if anyone has heard something from or about a certain goat horned mech.

[ei8htbithero]

A collection of older Pasithea sketches when I was trying to nail down her personality. More cocky and less sad now. And Pandemonium hadn't come out yet which also changes some things.

Ascian glpyh is just the bottom half of the Emet-Selch esper glyph, which I thought would be neat since she's the right hand of Emet-Selch. Not that'd it be canonical or anything... probably......

[springingfromnothing]

Springer makes a low noise, helm lifting again. " ... Are you hurt or just bruised?" Some of that edge around the sides of the glpyhs. Optics flickering over Ghost searchingly. Then focusing back on gold again. Nasal ridge flaring just a bit. He doesn't smell like energon. But that doesn't mean he didn't crack somethin'.

Springer calms slowly. The longer he's pet the more he settles. Until he's resting his helm on his crossed arms in his lap now. Vents pouring off heat from his earlier revved up state. The cool servos help his mood too. The grumbling turning to purring.