#i dug up a couple of old doodles i never posted

[fate-defiant]

Go to horny jail, go directly to horny jail, don't pass go, don't pick up 200,

[codylabs]

Forest of Daggers Behind the Scenes

I was just going through and organizing my old art, and found the old Forest of Daggers folder. I decided to relive the memories, and discovered some art I never posted. Stuff like concept drawings, deleted scenes, and stuff doodled in the margins of my college notes. Some of it was kind of interesting, so I may as well post it here.

This was gonna be some kind of fancy section divider/chapter-ender, if I ever printed the book out. I may still use it one day; who knows?

Ahhh now these are old. These drawings were made years and years before I started the story, years before I'd seen Gravity Falls or even knew the word 'fanfiction.' These were the original ideas that became the Forest's titular metallic ecosystem. You can see here the original 'lions', though these are lion-like in function only, and more closely resemble shell-less hermit crabs or perhaps blenders; they were originally imagined to be native to an Earth-like world with oxygen and water, and thus their bodies were in a perpetual state of rusting and molting and regrowing, as you see with the brown (which is a detail I ignored in the actual story, to my shame). There were also solar-powered floating cranes (a symbiosis between a hanging herbivore and a colony of hydrogen-filled solar creatures) which never made it into the story. I think I liked the final version of things better, but these early ideas had a certain unearthly character.

A few more creatures that were actually in the story, which for whatever reason never made it into illustrations proper. Left are a few concepts for the little birds that fly with thermal rockets, above is one of the swarming piranha bugs Dipper and Wendy encountered in the tunnels, and speaking of tunnels, there's one of the drilling worms that dug them, because you know Frank Herbert ain't gonna reference himself.

Heyyy it's Betty and Barney! I love these two. All they wanted was to live peacefully on a quaint farm. They're like metal hobbits.

OH BABY I can't tell you how badly I wanted to have this scene somewhere in the story. It would be Dipper and Wendy in excavators fighting a couple alien lions, and the scene would be framed as some monumental, epic Pacific-Rim-style kaiju-vs-mecha fight, and I would play it 100% straight, or even straighter than straight, because the personal stakes and the amount of realism here means that I and the audience could take it much more seriously than any traditional japanese monster flick. The lumbering clumsy only-one-arm-ed-ness of the excavators puts our heroes at a distinct disadvantage, with them needing to coordinate closely together to block the much faster and more agile lions. Alas, the events of the book never played out in a way that allowed this scene to happen, but perhaps it will when I rewrite it someday. Perhaps perhaps. If I recall correctly, the idea of this scene was one of the reasons I started the story in the first place.

The finale of Wendy's story, where she confronts the mother shapeshifter in her lair, was in a state of authorial flux for quite awhile before I decided on a version of events that I liked. Here's one version of events where the mother shows up already disguised as a Time Warrior, while Sam is at gunpoint.

And another version of events where the shapeshifter is disguised as her as they fight, and you can tell who's who because the shapeshifter is mimicking a clean, perfect, idealized version of her. I'm not sure what the symbolism of that meant to me at the time, and I'm not sure why I put had in her underwear, I guess I just thought it made the scene more poignant. I wish Disney censored me like they censored the show, so we wouldn't end up with this sort of edgy, cringe nonsense.

Wendy after the finale, wielding the Time Tape and the death ray, triumphant but beat up and exhausted. I liked this scene, which is probably why I drew it twice. That's a lot more blood than I think is actually realistic for a person to have outside their body (censor me Disney, please.)

Speaking of, remember that time I posted a drawing of a penis on Tumblr dot com and got away scot free? Good times.

[pj-nothingmorethanwhirlwind]

3. OF RUBBING, SHOUTING AND LEAVING

Julia POV

When we arrived in Seattle, it was already past midnight. The sky was clouded and the city lights created an odd kind of halo above it. There was a cool, gentle breeze and a fine rain was pouring down, catching glimpses of street lanterns. The city seemed calm, sleepy but not asleep, a weird mixture of idleness and silent, well-hidden persistence.

"You OK, kiddo?" Jack asked, sounding almost sorry to leave me behind. To tell the truth, I myself was unsure whether I wanted to stay in this city, where every thought of too loud or too quick motion seemed to just vanish under the deep, heavy calmness. Did I want to stay there, be a roommate of some person I've never met, probably someone square and boring as the whole city, with a shirt collar peeking from under an old, grey, knitted sweater? Was this my idea of a great adventure in America, getting to know the beautiful mountains and beaches and fields? It was not, but I was there anyway. Maybe a greater force, a destiny or fate had pushed me there. You always find what you're looking for in the most unexpected places, my mother used to say. Well, maybe this was my unexpected place, even though I didn't really know what I was looking for-Thus a privilege of youth, I thought, amused. What would anyone here in Seattle think of me if I said that out loud? My English unfortunately consisted of many unuseful phrases I had stolen from Shakespeare or Byron.

Jack was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I hesitated, then nodded. "I'll be OK, I guess."

"Good. I'm gonna call my friend, the one who's looking for a roommate."

"Wait, isn't it, like, 1 in the morning?"

"Oh don't worry, they're only getting started by now." Jack shot me a mischievous grin and wandered to the nearby pay phone. First, there was no answer. Then Jack decided to dial another number. After a while, I decided to follow, curious.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is? - OK, yeah, whatever. - So you good with that? - Great. - Yeah, see you around. - Oh, she's sweet, don't worry. - Bye, Xana."

Jack turned to me and I blushed a little, suddenly embarrassed I had eavesdropped on the conversation, even when it was about me.

"That was Xana, she lives there too. So, my friend without a roommate, his name's Chris. Nice guy, he's in a band. He's roommate with this couple, Andy and Xana, Andy's also in a band. Uh, Chris is away right now, god knows where, but I'm gonna take you to Andy and he's gonna take you there, to the apartment."

"Can't you take me there?"

"I could, but there's no one in there. I don't wanna leave you at their front door, waiting for god knows how long till they return."

"What about this Xana girl?"

"She's not there, she's at Demri's."

"Who's Demri?"

"This girl, the last time I checked she was dating Layne."

"Who's Layne?"

"Uh, man, that's getting way too complicated," Jack laughed. "He's also in a band. Come, you'll soon wrap your head around it, I promise."

I followed to the car, then stopped.

"Is there, like, someone who's not in a band?"

Jack laughed again, than Dave's head popped out from the car.

"I'm not, I got kicked out a while ago."

We got in the car and Jack drove us through the empty streets. There were a few buses we missed, most of them empty. I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia, I was gonna miss these guys, even though I met them just a few days ago.

"That's our part of the town," Jack exclaimed. There was little difference at first glance, but soon I realized what he meant. The buildings had a few graffiti on it, there were flyers and posters on the walls and street lanterns.

Jack pulled up in front of an old building, its facade peeling down, a heavy door doodled with random names and symbols. He left the engine running, got out, then opened my door and lead me to the trunk. We dug out my backpack and a little rugged handbag I always carried around and headed to the door.

"Make sure to come say goodbye before you leave with these cool dudes waiting inside!" Dave shouted from the car and I had to laugh.

Soon, the door buzzed and we entered. The building smelled like a latex paint, spilled beer, and paper, and I kind of liked it. There weren't many places that gave straight away a creative vibe, and this place certainly did. We heard a faint strumming and humming and Jack lead the way down the stairs, just where the sounds were coming from.

He tapped the door and opened, there was a dimly lit room behind, with a once red carpet on the floor, papers and instruments everywhere. In the back, there was a drum set, the walls were decorated with Post-Its, on the ground or laid agains the walls there were all sorts of guitars- I saw a cherry burst Les Paul (literally the only brand I could recognize), some acoustic ones, some electric. In the middle there was a mic stand and in front of it, an old couch and two men.

The first one sat on the ground, turned to the couch, cross-legged, strumming through guitar strings. He was lean, had long, dark hair and wore a baggy shirt with bright green shorts underneath. I wasn't sure I could trust a guy with such questionable fashion choices. The other one was more muscular, wearing an off-shoulder tank top, with a bandana wrapped around his head and messy, brownish hair. The both of them stopped playing when they noticed us and exchanged quick looks. No one said anything for a while.

"Uh, this is Julia," Jack said then. Well, that was weird. Suddenly, everything got into motion.

"Fuck, man, I didn't recognize you for a sec there! Thought you were some weirdo who got lost. We haven't seen you in a long while, dude!" The one with the bandana got up from the couch and laughed shortly, big grin plastered on his face. He hugged Jack, then turned to his friend. This one was spinning around his axis, trying to free himself from a cable plucked in his guitar.

"Uh, yeah, be with you in a minute, just trying-" He stopped abruptly when the bandana-man simply unplucked the cable and smiled.

"Oh, thanks." He also hugged Jack with one arm, saying: "Long time no see, man."

Jack smiled, shook his head and motioned to me. "Wish I could stay longer, but we haven't eaten yet and I'm just stopping here. Delivering this one to mister Chris Cornell himself, but the man is hard to pin down."

"Sure," both of them nodded, seeming unsure what it has to do with them. Then both of them turned their faces to me.

"Uh, I'm Jeff," the one with the bandana introduced himself.

"Julia," I smiled, and shook his hand.

"You shake hands," he laughed and pulled me into a quick, hesitant hug. We both smiled, more warmly this time.

"Yeah, I'm Stone," interrupted the other one with a smirk. "No hugs from me, sorry."

I nodded.

"Is Andy around?" Jack asked.

"No, man, he left just ten minutes ago. Went to some bar or whatever."

"I don't suppose you know where?"

Again, both of them nodded at the same time.

"OK, good, then we will go grab something to eat and we'll stop by later?" Jack asked.

"Alright, man, let's get this straight, I know what you want. We can take her to Cornell's, but I don't know if there's gonna be someone in there," Jeff sighed.

"Andy's gonna be there of course."

"Uh, I don't think so, dude. Andy's...." He seemed to be looking for the right words, then simply decided to let go. "Things are difficult with him lately."

"Huh?"

"Man, it's hard to talk to you 'bout it, I mean, after Slovak. But Andy's got issues and, uh, it's not just fun and games as it used to."

I noticed a slight change in Jack's expression, a flash of pain and.. regret? guilt? Sooner than I could figure it out, it was gone.

"Sure, then..."

Jeff turner to me, fidgeted a little, then slowly said: "I can take you to my place, if it's OK with you. And tomorrow I'll drive you to Cornell's."

"Thanks," I nodded.

"We'll be back in half an hour? Hour?" Jack asked.

"Hour would be better," Stone said. He seemed like a quiet one, but maybe he was.. irritated with me? Angry he had to take care of some girl Jack brought along? You're overthinking this again, you're overanalyzing, girl, a radar went off in my head. I sighed. Stone waved awkwardly and turned back to his guitar.

I left my stuff at the door and followed Jack back to his car, seeing Dave waving from behind the window.

"Hey, I'm not leaving yet," I laughed as soon as I opened the door.

"No?" he asked, a little confused.

"Andy's not here," Jack explained, sounding tired. "We'll go grab some terrible fast food and come back in an hour or so."

We ended up in Dick's Drive-In. The place was almost empty, there was a teenage couple in one of the booths and one old man across the diner. The place was small, with tired service and a little bit too cold food. In a while, we were all sitting squashed in the only booth that seemed to be able to pass the hygiene control, the guys eating burgers and fries. I had to settle for fries in a tiny paper box which Dave gladly decorated with "FRIES- Saving herbivores since 1920 AD" title.

"You know, technically I'm not a herbivore. I eat eggs and cheese and stuff, I just don't eat meat."

"Yeah I know.. Well I didn't know until you told me, but it makes sense I guess." We all laughed and Dave continued. "Now I get why I didn't get to a college."

"You didn't get through admission exams?"

"They do that?"

I studied his face for a while, trying to decide whether he was joking or not. "You didn't go through admissions, and still expected to get to the college?" I asked slowly.

"Nah man, I never really tried to get in there, I dropped out of high school. I was just trying to pretend I'm not a fucking tramp." Dave laughed. We all laughed too, but in my mind, I thought In every joke there's a little bit of truth. I'd bet somewhere deep down, it was really bugging him. I reached to his hand and gently squeezed it, trying my best to seem reassuringly.

"You know, one tramp is worth at least ten neat handed square copies of J. Evans Pritchard, PhD., OK?" I smiled.

"You know the movie? Damn, girl..." he smiled too, more sincerely this time. "I'm really starting to envy these guys who're gonna get you now."

I made a small "aww" and squeezed his hand again, mindlessly playing with a wooden ring he was wearing on his littlefinger.

"You'll come see me again some time, won't you?" I asked silently. I liked the rest of the group, I really did, but I didn't really consider them friends. But with Dave, we just.. clicked. Jack Irons was sweet, he helped me a lot, and the rest of them were fine too, but Dave was just something extra.

"Of course. Now stop this thing you are doing, it's growing increasingly uncomfortable."

I stopped and looked in his face, confused. He just shook hid head and laughed, catching me in a little embrace.

"Dude, that's like some shit from a movie right there!" one of the guys exclaimed loudly and we both turned to him. His face was hidden behind a big black camera with the rest of the group tucked behind him, watching the screen, Jack Irons looking at us like a pround director. Apparently, they had filmed something of the last moments while we were too caught in our bubble. And they found it terribly amusing.

"Dave, if I were you I wouldn't leave her behind buddy," Jack smiled and wandered away, seeming a little bit off.

We smiled at each other. Our hour had almost passed and I soon had to tell goodbye to the guys and go meet two strange men who didn't seem very keen on babysitting me for the remainder of the night.

"You think I should bring them something to eat? And some coffee?" I asked.

Dave smiled and nodded, getting up to keep me company while I order the food.

I ordered burgers with fries for both Stone and Jeff, hoping they won't have any moral objections. Then I decided on one simple black coffee and one latte, and a coffee with milk for myself. Dave helped me carry the food to the car while I carried the cup holder.

"They are really lucky to get you," he noted while I was getting in the car. "I'll come see you as soon as I can."

I hugged him and we drove the entire way back in silence. When we parked at the same spot we did an hour ago, I felt hot tears in my eyes. I quickly blinked to get rid of them.

Dave hugged me tighter, making sure I didn't drop the tray with coffees with one hand.

"I hate saying goodbyes," I said, my voice suddenly weak and raspy.

"Yeah, me too. Never was good at it." He seemed sad too, or maybe just my imagination was kicking in. "I'll come see you, OK? I mean it. Be sure to stay safe and sound until then."

That was when I lost my fight agains tears.

"What kind of fucking weird name is Stone, huh?" I sobbed and we both laughed, trying to make it through the goodbye without too much damage on our reputation.

"I'm gonna walk you down there," Dave offered and I nodded. The rest of the group quickly hugged me and promised to see me again someday. Jack Irons kissed me on both cheeks and embraced me tightly. Then, he whispered: " Irons is my real name, by the way. I know you've been wondering about that all along."

We laughed, then the door buzzed and Dave escorted me to the basement.

With his hand on the handle, he hesitated. I turned my face to his, ready to ask what's wrong, when I heard what stopped him: there were hudhed voices coming from the inside, sounding as if the people speaking were rather raising them than lowering. I figured they had to shout-whisper because they were too afraid someone might hear.

I looked to Dave with a question in the eyes, wordlessly asking if we should eavesdrop. He understood what I had in mind an shrugged uncertainly, then moved closer to the door. I followed, placing the tray with drinks and bag with food on the floor.

"What the hell do you think about yourself Stone, huh?" I recognized Jeff's voice. He sounded as if he had had this conversation a couple of times before. "That's not just 'bout yourself. Not about me either. Get over it man."

"The fuck? Every time you tell me this, you do exactly what I told you not to do, and then you come to me a week later crying over how everything got fucked!"

"Sure, Stone, whatever. I'm sick of this. You know what- I wouldn't even care anymore, 'cause I should have already gotten used to it, but now it's simply not only about me and you. She needs a place to stay and I want her around. I don't need your sail of approval."

There's was a pause and I considered opening the door, then Jeff started talking again. His voice seemed more calm and tired this time, but he was talking with a slight urgency.

"Everytime there's this, everytime you and I disagree because you think you're so smart and so clever and so fucking better than everytime around you - no, let me just finish- everytime I say 'okay, whatever, let's figure this out, let's find some middle way' and everytime-everytime we do it your way because you're psyching over what could go wrong if we don't listen to you, and because you simply cannot take being not listened to. But now you don't even know that girl and you say she's no good straight away, and you say you think 'bout Andy and Chris and the band, but all you're really saying is that you're an asshole who decided he doesn't like her and that's why you're not even giving her a chance."

I slowly got the drinks and opened the door. Jeff was standing with his back turned to Stone, visibly irritated. Stone seemed upset. His eyes immediately darted to me and his lips curled in a displeased grimace.

Jeff turned to me as well, his expression guilty.

"Hey- uh, I'm.. I'm sorry."

I just shook my head and offered a weak smile. "That's okay."

Stone grabbed his guitar and a big with some things and left before I - we - could say anything, offering only a simple "See you later, I guess."

Jeff mumbled "Bye, Stone" and immediately hugged me as if he had known me for several years, almost flipping over the tray with drinks and spilling them all over ourselves.

"Jeez, I'm sorry," he said with a sort of embarrassed, apologetic smile. "I'm sometimes thinking about getting my master's in clumsiness."

"Oh, you should see me."

"Nonsense," Dave interrupted. " You guys are gonna love her. I mean, Stone's going to like you too when he spends some time with you," he added, turning to me.

"You wanna sit?" Jeff offered, motioning with one hand to the old couch. We got seated and he started talking, seeming guilty and irritated at the same time.

"I'm sorry for before, I really am. Stone's a good guy, but we have some problems between the two of us, and it's hard to figure it out. I don't know what you heard, but it wasn't actually about you.. it was a bit more personal."

"You don't have to explain. It's okay," I smiled, absolutely honest this time.

Jeff fidgeted a little with his fingers, something I had already noticed before. It seemed as if he had played some tiny imaginary guitar and I wondered if he was really unconsciously rehearsing some chords for bass which he obviously played.

"I, uh, I brought something to eat, and some coffee." I said.

"What, really?" Jeff almost yelled as if I had told him I brought Christmas presents. "You've already reached the number 1 in my most favorite person of the day list."

Dave took out the content of the paper bag and nudged me, urging me to shift a little closer to him to make some room, and placed two burgers with fries between us on the couch.

Jeff immediately grabbed one, then I handed him the latte I got for him.

"A latte?" he asked as soon as it opened it, not displeased.

"You seemed like a latte-y sort of guy," I explain simply.

"Oh, totally. Hey, was this second burger for Stone, or..? Can I eat it then as well?" He asked with a slight smile, his mouth full.

We all chuckled. While Jeff was eating, there was not much conversation. Dave hugged me with one arm and placed his chin on my shoulder, rubbing the back of my hand with his finger. I watched Jeff eat and wondered about what I had gotten myself into, recklessly agreeing to be a roommate of someone I had never met, with one of his friends obviously already hating me.

"Are you guys, like, together?" Jeff asked in between bites, interrupting my flow of thoughts.

Me and Dave both shook our heads at the same time, bumping them together painfully. Jeff burst out laughing, and we both soon joined in.

"Are you hurt?" Dave asked still laughing, rubbing his head where mine hit him. I shook my head again, more carefully this time. "Careful with that," he noted.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, turning to him, his hand still gently rested on mine. "There, let me."

I took his hand away from his head, than placed a kiss in there and smiled. Dave looked me in the face, then kissed me on the cheek, grabbed my shoulders and turned my body back to Jeff. He watched us with an amused smile, chewing his food.

" I thought you guys said you aren't a couple."

"We aren't." Dave said and placed his head again on my shoulder, one of his hands dropping down on my hip. I didn't mind, it wasn't uncomfortable, but there was nothing sexual or flirtatious in it either, which was absolutely okay with me.

Jeff finished eating and started collecting his gear, various cables and plugs and whatnot.

Dave leaned in a little bit closer, my face still not turned to his. "You know, when I told you to stop in the Dick's.. Fuck that sounds ridiculous," he chuckled. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, it wasn't really uncomfortable, it was just.. well, your hand rubbing my thigh was.. uh.. you know what I mean don't you?"

"What?"

"It was uh.. I mean it was nice, but it kind of.. distracting..?"

I finally understood and nodded. "God I'm sorry, that feels embarrassing."

"No it's OK, just.. You know. Bad timing and all," he winked at me, then silently laughed at himself and got up, making me stand up with him since I was partly sitting on him.

I wasn't really sure what to think, but then I simply shrugged in my mind, knowing it won't soon matter anyway. He was leaving, I was staying, and that meant I didn't have to start analyzing any feelings I might or might not have.

Soon after we left, Jeff carrying his bass and all his gear (well, maybe all of it, I had no idea) and my handbag, Dave carrying the black coffee which was originally meant for Stone, making disgusted faces each time he took a sip. I carried just my backpack and one cold coffee.

Jack and the guys were all arranged around the car, some of them sitting on the hood or standing around, Jakc sitting in the driver's seat with his door open. I immediately recognized Stone standing next to him, laughing and fidgeting awkwardly. Both Jeff and Dave seemed to be quite surprised to find him there too, but Jeff simply went over to him, patted his shoulder and handed him some of the leftover fries.

"Hey, Dave, buddy, I was just about to show Stone the cute video of you two lovebirds we filmed today!" one of the guys, the one with the camera, said. It didn't seem like anyone except me and Dave noticed, but then Jeff turned to him and asked: "What video?"

I quickly hushed him with and soon all the guys got in the car, realizing they had already wasted more than enough time in Seattle, certainly more than planned.

"Wait, can I get a copy of that tape? The video thing?" Jeff yelled after them when the car started to back from the parking lot.

"Sure, but can I get your address first?" Dave yelled back from the car.

Jeff started jogging along the road next to the car, dictating his address before the car drove off.

Then it was just the three of us, Stone sipping his coffee I got him, Jeff smiling wildly with his hair in his face despite the bandana. He has quite a handsome face, I thought, watching him adjust his off-shoulder top, and a nice smile too.

[ozarkkaya]

My Pitch for a Rewrite of Pokemon: Indigo Leage (the Original Season of the Anime)

Okay so like this is going to be a bit rambley and shit but I was talking with some friends about ways the pokemon anime could be improved because god damn is it a shitty anime,, love the franchise but the anime suuuuucks. So this post is going to be really just me throwing spaghetti at the wall and talking about my personal pet peeves and how I would end the series.

There are two options that I’ve got but this post is going to be focused on the darker, more mature rewrite; as opposed to the season that I would actually pitch to Gamefreak if I was given the chance.

I’ve put the detailed version of it under the cut, because it’s a lot, but tl;dr is this: Ash/pikachu bonding arc runs a lot longer, Ash is a competent trainer, Jessie and James are competent yet keep their goofy charm, there are actual arcs in character and plot instead of just episodic information dumps.

So basically what it would focus on would be if the arc from the very first episode lasted longer. I always felt like it was dumb that pikachu went from trying to kill ash to being best buds with him just because Ash saved pikachu one time, so I figured that would be a good starting point. Ash and pikachu(from this point on to be referred to as P for simplicity’s sake) don’t become friends from the very start. Instead, they spend the entire season learning how to cooperate. They learn about each other and slowly become the best friends we know and love. It happens over the course of the entire season; going from pure hatred and uncooperativeness to Ash having a preference for going to P in battle, and then eventually they are inseperable buddies.

Speaking of battling, in this rewrite Ash is a competent trainer. None of this Pikachu vs Onix bullshit. He pays attention to types and actually knows how to utilize them properly. This Ash uses his entire team-- and he does in fact actually have a team in this. He has a proper team and spends the entire time working with them and learning who they are. He bonds with each and every member of the team over the course of multiple episodes, and every pokemon has their own character arc. I like the Charizard arc. I love pokemon character arcs. There are a lot more of them in this rewrite.

The caviat of this, however, is a loss of the secondary characters. Brock and Misty are still there, but they aren’t permanent additions to the team. Brock becomes more of a mentor figure, another person Ash can turn to for advice if Oak is being a dumbass again, but he’s busy with the gym and can’t join Ash on his adventure. Misty follows him around for a bit but soon goes off on her own-- they meet up again at different points, but it’s less of a constant friendship and more of a realistic friendship where she actually has shit she needs to do.

On the note of other characters, we have to talk about Jessie and James. In this rewrite they’re much more intimidating. Here, they’re actually competent trainers and competent members of Team Rocket. Their plans almost always come within inches of succeeding, and take more than one episode to work through. There are entire episodes dedicated to their stories and their arcs as well; not just the one episode we get for James’ backstory and the Pokemon Island episode-- multiple multiple episodes for each of them.

All of these stories and character arcs come to a close in the final arc of the rewrite. At the end of the next to last arc, Ash and his team lose. P is captured by Jessie and James, and Ash spends this entire arc trying to get his new best friend back. Tensions are running high as he goes to each of the people that he’s befriended over the course of the season, asking them each for their help. They all give what they can, even Misty, and eventually he manages to track down Jessie and James. The dynamic duo have figured out that P doesn’t have a pokeball, and so James has taken the initiative and captured him himself.

The series ends with an epic and emotional battle sequence; with Ash and his pokemon moving one in the same. All the character arcs come to a close in this battle; Ash and his team versus Team Rocket and P. And Ash loses again. He’s kicked down to the ground and P is being forced to attack him. He manages just barely to pick up a rock that’s on the ground and throw it at James’s hand; breaking the pokeball that held P captive. He’s hurt and he’s clearly nearly dying. P rushes to his side and tries to help him up; tries to do anything, but Ash just pushes him away.

Ash keeps telling P to go, go! Get out of here! Be free; get away from them! And he says it in an angry, hateful tone. The episode ends with a blurry picture of P running and then fades to black for the end credits instead of having the background it would usually have.

The last episode opens with the same fade in; not even having the opening theme. Ash blinks a few times and finds he’s in a hospital bed, surrounded by the team that remains and the friends he made on the way. But P isn’t there. The entire episode goes through a montage, with a monologue going sporadically through it. The beginning of the episode is Ash asking about P and finding out that nobody can find him, and then getting out of the bed and running out of the hospital crying, only to be brought back. The monologue explains that he only said those things to save P.

The montage covers the remainder of Ash’s life. It covers how he went through the five stages of grief along with the rest of the team, and how he went on to live a long life alongside them. There’s a house that he buys, and every once in a while the montage cuts back to it, and every time it cuts back there’s another grave there for one of his pokemon. It’s really a melancholy ending.

At the very end of the episode, it focuses in on Ash, old and gray, looking at the tombstones that cover his front yard. One of them is freshly dug: Charizard, the last one that died. In this rewrite Ash and Charizard were the closest bond after P was lost. The entire team, except for P, is there. He turns back to the woods that are across the way and enters them one last time; using a cane with every step. He’s got his iconic baseball cap on, and many pokemon come out to greet the friendly man that they know and love. He waves all of them off, claiming that he’ll be back another day perhaps, that he doesn’t have treats today for them.

And then he sees a couple pokemon that cause him to stop dead in his tracks. A couple small pichu. They notice him too, and begin speaking wildly with each other as they spot him. Throughout the entire montage up until this point, with al the walks through these woods, there has never been one of the pikacu line in them. The pichu wave and motion for Ash to follow them, and he does so, dumbstruck. They lead him back to their home.

And in their home he sees P. Old and tired and with his colors washed out and desaturated, but it’s still P. Cut back to Ash, who’s crying. The two reunite, and Ash apologizes. He asks P if he’s willing to go on one last adventure. And P agrees. They make their way out of the little home; many pikachus and pichus following them, until they get back to Ash’s home.

Ash lies down on the grass, and P lies down next to him. And they’re happy, and there’s nobody trying to take P or hurt Ash. And then P’s figure stops moving. And then Ash closes his eyes, and the monologue that’s been running over the entire episode stops. And then the credits roll.

The credits have little sort of storybook style sketchy doodles of Ash and the entire team, reuniting as they were in their youth, and the show ends with a picture of the entire team together, happy; opacity lowered and stars scattered throughout. Pan down and you see an older woman. She speaks as if she’s finishing telling a long tale. When she finishes talking, the camera cuts to a shot of her across from a group of children, and then pans around to the front of the group, where you see the young face of a child.

This child goes on to be the protagonist of the next season of the show, with a completely different starter and a completely different motivation, but constantly calling back to the Ash legend, for that is what Ash Ketchum had become: a legend.

Anyhow, that’s my really self-indulgent dark pokemon au I guess?? A friend was screaming about how they wanted pikachu to be released and I thought that was a neat idea so I wrote that in,,, apologies for the word vomit!! Again this is just me throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping it sticks hjk.

Do tell me if you’d like to hear my other pitch-- it’d be a completely differently toned version; a pitch for pokemon as it is today and not rewriting the first season for an older audience.

Have a wonderful day, and take care of yourselves!

[pastel-popplio]

1, 4, 19 and 4 for those oc asks!!

You put 4 twice so i just went ahead and did 44 lmao

1. Your first OC ever? Ohhh boy, if we're talking very first character ( bc i didn't know the term then ) , I made up this little dog when I was 3 years old, her name was Puppy. She was a tiny pure white maltese/poodle mix, and I never drew her surprisingly but I pretended to be her whenever my sister and I played pretend if it had to do with animals or I'd toss her into our games with a random toy to act as the body since I didn't have any white dog plushies. Even back then I was a total angsty fuck when it came to backstories because she was always either abused by her owners or abandoned and living half-starved as a stray ( often in the cold rain ) and she'd be super grateful to anyone who helped her/taught her the ways of the streets. She was very playful and sweet but quick to cry when someone was mean to her and I loved her so much dude oh man, I don't think I completely stopped using her ( in the rare times I still played with my lil sister ) until around 5th grade maybe?

I'm super tempted to try and draw her now not gonna lie, in my head she basically looked like the lil maltese in the DOGZ gba game mixed with disney lady and the tramp style lmao

4. An OC you rarely talk about? I'll go with my ( very self-indulgent ) oc Xarrnacc ( pronounced Zar-nack ) . I made her up like a day after I started binging the Ju/stice Leag/ue animated series on netflix a couple years back lmao. Here is the link to her ref pics ( don't bother reading the info bc it's either old or stated below lmao )

http://pastel-popplio.tumblr.com/post/145593516169/oh-btw-guys-here-is-another-dc-oc-of-mine-but-she

http://scourgefeather.deviantart.com/art/Xarrnacc-bust-doodle-614140861

GET READY FOR AN INFO DUMP BC I NEVER GET TO TALK ABOUT OR DRAW HER BUT I THOUGHT ABOUT HER SO MUCH WHEN I MADE HER MMMM

She's a horribly shy alien babe who's a scientific genius ( especially with physics and chemistry ) and also studies Ice Magic. She worked as an engineer for the highest members of her planet in the capital city ( a lot of the planet is still entirely natural resources bc they care more about their ecosystem than we do, so the other scattered inhabited areas make up a small enough portion that they only need the one really big city for the government/royals to rule everyone else from ) , but was eventually framed by a few jealous coworkers. The Mistress ( her planet's ruler who's basically a mix of President and Queen ) had no choice but to ( reluctantly ) exile her from the planet for the severe crime/rule infraction.

She was sent to Earth to die in the arctic ( since not only was it rumored to be inhospitable, but her planet didn't know Earth had really moved past the ice age since it's so far away. They pretty much spun a wheel of dangerous planet names and launched her there ) , but ended up meeting an old man in the cold barren area who was charged with the noble duty of protecting a hidden library of old spellbooks. She befriended him and lived/with worked under him as a fellow magic user until he was killed while on a trip. She didn't know of his death until a couple days after he'd left, when a few members of the League tracked down the library while investigating an unrelated magic incident and she attacked them ( in an attempt to defend the books from strange intruders ) . Once they managed to convince her they weren't thieves and explained they'd found his murdered body in the snow a half-hour's trek from the library, she ended up joining them on what was supposed to be a one time mission to assist with the magic part.

She was inducted into the League permanently after that and wanted to learn more about Earth, so she started living in the space station headquarters with Mart/ian Man/hunter, who sometimes helps teach her written english ( she learned the verbal language earlier when the old man dug up a spellbook that allowed the two of them to communicate by swapping memories ) . She's pretty close to The Fla/sh since he's the friendliest, and he usually is the one who forces her out of space hiding to experience the magic of actual society, fast food diners, and hitting on the ladies ( the latter of which has her a nervous wreck plz stop dragging her on spontaneous blind double dates ) . She admires WW a lot for her confidence and physical fighting skills, and sometimes they have talks or training sessions together. She lowkey has a crush on Haw/kgirl but she's taken and also intimidating af so Xarrnacc knows she's kinda screwed there oops. Super/man is okay but usually too busy being a leader with a double life to interact with her outside of missions, she's terrified of ol' Bats he's very intimidating. Doesn't really feel one way or the other about Gr/een Lante/rn, she doesn't talk to him much so they don't know each other really.

She adores books and can sometimes spend hours in big libraries if she has another league member to accompany her and help translate. She's not huge on public parks, if only because she had a very bad experience once when The F/lash took her and she mistook a squirrel as acceptable food and thought hunting was allowed and tried to eat one in front of a screaming child.

Fun fact: her species is deathly allergic to chocolate, something she found out the hard way after The Flas/h offered her a bite of his Hershey bar and had her in the League ER for like 2 weeks RIP

I have more but this is long enough jfc

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you ( and explain why ) . This boi Darren right here means a ton to me!

https://toyhou.se/606692.darren

Not only is he a pretty personal character bc of certain personality aspects ( hello shyness/social anxiety venting lmao ) or the fact that he was one of my main sort of daydreaming ocs ( aka a character that I would shove into different show universes and think about how he'd interact with everyone when I was bored ) before I finally found him his home, but he was the very first rp character I ever made! Joining the group he was in ( when I was a smol ms paint artist ) helped me learn a ton about everything from rping itself to cat anatomy to writing to character development and all kinds of stuff inbetween, and I made so many friends because of it, even one of my best, who is actually the founder of the group! I never would be near where I am today without that group, or this adorable character that I loved to bits and motivated me to draw him 24/7 lmao.

Plus he has cool lightning powers and a pet puffin, and the silver tabby w/blue eyes is my favourite cat design ever probably

44. Something you like about your ocs in general? The amount of detail I give them, be it personality, backstory or just little goofy facts! I've gotten a lot of compliments on the depth of my chars before, and I really do try to make them all unique from each other!Thank you so much for asking these bby! 💜

[jouissezduprintemps]

Entrepreneurship

Rating: T Word Count: 1,650 Summary:  "I'm telling you, man; this little baby is my ticket to success." Havoc flicked his cigarette up and down with his tongue for emphasis. Rated T for a few swears and for the discussion of the use of adult themes in advertising. Oneshot. A/N: This was my first piece when I decided to get back into fic writing late last year. Somehow, it never got posted here. In retrospect, I would have done things a little differently, but I think there’s a novelty to it that I don’t want to change with a re-write.

"I'm telling you, man; this little baby is my ticket to success." Havoc flicked his cigarette up and down with his tongue for emphasis. "I'm gonna be living the good life. No more paperwork, no more colonel stealing my dates-"

Fuery tried his best to play off his snort as a sneeze. Havoc's blue eyes zeroed in on him for a moment before he looked back to Breda.

"Yessir, rich and famous." Havoc lifted the small, translucent box and tilted his head so that he could get the florescent lighting to shine off of it just right.

"And just how exactly is this flimsy chunk of plastic going to do that?" Breda inquired, genuinely curious as he took the box out of Havoc's hands. It wasn't anything special, save perhaps for the suction cups attached to the back.

Havoc looked pained. "Man, do you not know me at all anymore?" he groaned. "What's the one thing I always complain about? Don'tevensayitFuery." The small, bespectacled man hid his smirk behind his paperwork.

"Well, if it's not the colonel, it's gotta be how you can't smoke when you're showering," Breda surmised, mentally drudging through his friend's list of complaints.

"Exactly! Think about it. I come home from the eighth ring of hell that is Central Command, and all I wanna do is have a drink and a smoke, then take a hot shower. I can't do anything else until I've done that. So, I figure, why not take up less time? And that's when it hit me: the cig-saver!"

Fuery opened his mouth to tell his superior that smoking kills, and his brief reprieve while in the shower was probably doing him more good than he realized. He wavered in his resolve, catching Falman's knowing gaze before busying himself once more.

"You see, you just drop the cigarette in here when you have to move around in the shower, and then you pick it right back up when you want another puff!" Havoc slid the lid back and forth on the box excitedly. "No water can get in. It's genius!"

Without looking up from his intricate doodle, Colonel Mustang murmured "You know it can still get wet from your hands or the showerhead, right?"

In an emboldened move that Havoc would never have taken were Hawkeye in the room, he grinned mischievously and shot back "Yeah, I guess you'd know all about the reactions between water and fire, wouldn't ya, Chief?"

A harsh, incomprehensible muttering came from behind the barricade of papers. The sound of a snapping pencil caused Havoc to grin, knowing his shot landed.

"That's the whole point of the cig-saver in the first place! I just need a little bit of start-up capital and this baby can hit stores by November." Havoc shot an inquisitive look at Breda as he continued. "With some cash and a good-looking poster, they'll be flying off the shelves."

"I'll tell you what," Breda mused. "I'll lend you some cash and we'll make a little bet; if this thing doesn't sell, I get my start-up money back in full plus interest, which will be decided based on how quickly this thing burns."

"That sounds like a crap deal. What's in it for me?" Havoc eyed him warily.

"If you actually sell these things, then you can have the rights to the advertising ideas I'm about to give you." Breda bribed, seeing that he had already won Havoc over as well as the bet itself.

"But if you advertise for him, he has a better chance of winning. After all, if the rights are going to be his reward, it'll have to be a good ad campaign." Falman noted, speaking up from the monotonous work of filing the colonel's paperwork. "It just seems like this is a no-win situation for you, Breda."

"Nah, see, I want old Jean here to succeed. I'm just making sure my money isn't going to get flushed down the shitter on this one."

"Hey!" Havoc interjected. "I have a little more business sense than that, thank you very much! I have worked in my family store, you know." He frowned, crossing his arms defensively as he leaned back in his chair, balanced on two of the legs.

"Just a little insurance never hurt. All I'm saying." Breda shrugged before flipping over a piece of paperwork and pulling out a pen. "So what I'm thinking is the ad should show the product being used, right? And what sells a product better than sex?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, scratching lines on the paper as he went. "So we have a hot, naked chick in the shower. We gotta cover her up, 'cause of the kids and all that, but we can have her peeking around the shower curtain, like this…" A stick figure illustrated his point, half-hidden behind a strangely-shaped quadrilateral.

"But that's not sexy enough," Haovc protested, snatching the pen out of Breda's hand. "Damned kids made us lose the whole point of the ad. But… if we make her have huge knockers…" the pen slid across the paper in a circular motion, "and some sexy hair…" curls appeared on the stick figure's circular scalp, "then we're back on track!"

"If she's in the shower, her hair's gotta be wet, dumbass," Breda grumbled as he snatched his pen back. "Otherwise she wouldn't need the cig-saver. Besides, wet is way sexier."

A faint noise of approval came from across the room, and a hand lifted in a thumbs-up motion over the sea of crisp white on the colonel's desk.

"No, it isn't! Then her hair gets all weighed down and darkens. It starts dripping everywhere, and then they do that weird thing where they tie it up and twist it all around into one of those towel hats. That's not sexy, that's witchcraft! I don't care how big her tits are!" Havoc exclaimed, his voice rising with each sentence. The scene he was causing caused no-one to realize that the door had opened.

A calm voice came from Havoc's left side, "I don't think I even want to ask."

Havoc looked up, terrified at having been caught not doing his work. Lieutenant Hawkeye, however, had already left him to his own devices. She had a towel draped over her shoulders, guarding her brown turtleneck from her hair, which fell down her back. "Colonel, something went wrong with my hairdryer. I have tried everything, but nothing makes it work. I hate to interrupt you while you're actually doing your work, but could you transmute it and see if that fixes it? My hair takes so long to dry that I'll be wearing this lovely fashion accessory the rest of the day, otherwise." She lifted the edges of the towel and tried to dry her hair a bit more by using friction.

"Of course, Lieutenant." Mustang grinned, overjoyed at having time to ignore his work, and without any threats, at that. He disappeared back behind his desk as he dug through the clutter of his bottom drawers in search of a piece of chalk. It had been a while since he had done anything like this, and he wanted a medium that was erasable should he make a mistake.

Havoc stared unabashedly across the room, taking in the lieutenant's profile. The hair, the tight-fitting shirt, it just worked too well. Without his knowledge or permission, his mind wandered until she was the stick-figure in the ad. He went slack-jawed, his cigarette falling from his mouth and his cheeks tinging red. No, it was forbidden for any of them to think of her like that. She was their lieutenant. Furthermore, she was Mustang's lieutenant. But damn if she didn't have a nice pair of-

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Hawkeye shouted, appearing suddenly before Havoc's desk. She deftly slid the top to Havoc's cig-saver shut, trapping his forgotten cigarette inside. In a manner of seconds the glow began to fade as the lack of oxygen put it out. It was rare for Hawkeye to use such a loud tone of voice, and Havoc honestly believed that she was capable of seeing what was going on in his mind. Startled out of any thoughts he may have had – or may not have had, definitely didn't have – he took a couple seconds to jump back onto the same wavelength as everyone else. The first thing he registered was that he was being berated by Hawkeye.

"Don't you know that some plastics are toxic when they're melted? Do you know what hydrogen cyanide is?!" Hawkeye demanded, her amber eyes flashing with disbelief and anger.

"Hydrogen cyanide, sometimes called prussic acid, is an organic compound with the chemical formula-"

"Falman, I appreciate that you're trying to help, but I am trying to get a point across to Lieutenant Havoc." Hawkeye's voice was perfectly calm and stable as she spoke to Falman, but she doubled back on her tone when her eyes turned back to Havoc. "It's lethal, Lieutenant. You could have killed everyone in this room with your inattentiveness if you had managed to melt that entire box." She turned her back on him, muttering something that sounded like "gone for fifteen minutes" as she took her repaired hairdryer from the Colonel. As she headed for the door, she implored "Please don't try to kill one another with toxic compounds while I am away. If you can restrain yourselves for the next ten minutes, that is." The door shut behind her with a little more force than was necessary.

"Damn…" Havoc sighed as he lit another cigarette. "It's probably a good thing that I ditched the attached straw-delivered alcohol system, then, huh?" He took a long draw from his cigarette before exhaling the smoke lazily into the room. "I think you're pretty spot-on with that poster, there, Breda. Now, how about the tag line?"

[linssikeittomies]

VR Chapter 5 - 35 hours

Masterpost <-Chapter 4

--

For the second morning in a row I was fitted for a dress. For the second morning in a row I had to command two men out of my room so I could put it on. But at least this one was a lot less over the top. No spider-butt silk, no intricate songbird embroidery, just petticoats up the wazoo. Made the whole thing a really wide bell-shape, it probably wouldn’t fit through most doors. And of course they had to stick some embroidery in there, the collar and cuffs were completely covered in geometric patterns. The red embroidery looked pretty good against the cream base, even though usually the white in these cases was pure white.

Asahana brought some more clothes to fill my drawer, including my own shirt and jeans. They seemed more appropriate for my plan, so I put them on.

“I’m not Rititia”, I reminded Asahana. I’m not Rititia I’m not Rititia I’m not Rititia I’m not Rititia I’m not Rititia I’m not Rititia.

Maybe he wasn’t a telepath after all, he looked just the same as always. Or maybe he was just so obsessed with me it didn’t matter to him either way. Cripes, what a creep!

Yeah, he couldn’t be a telepath, no reaction of any sort to that. It must have been Ritidia, maybe she could send thoughts to other people’s heads like that dickhead and his pet. But clearly she couldn’t read minds like they could, otherwise she would have known on the spot I wasn’t her sister.

Speaking of her, she was very excited about something today. In addition to her usual happy babble she clapped her hands a lot and did little jumps on the way to breakfast. Her little brother was also cheery – and had his hair on milkmaid braids. Well, I had already seen male servants and the master of the house in dresses, clearly their idea of masculine and feminine wasn’t the same as mine.

Alele and Suni were early birds, or maybe just always hungry, since they always seemed to be at the table before anyone else. This morning they looked like they had pulled an all-nighter. Alele had even done her own hair, apparently, that single sloppy braid would’ve gotten her hairdresser fired. It was the first time I saw her hair down, and was surprised to see it was a bit shorter than Ritidia’s. With her proud displaying of it I thought it would have been victorian.

Ugh, don’t get lost in thought! You were here to tell her you weren’t her dead daughter!

“Pa Rititia”, I said to her and shaking my head vigorously. “Ko Mimi”, and enthusiastic nodding. It wasn’t very eloquent, all I knew how to say was “no” and “yes”. But at least she understood something was wrong, even if she didn’t fully get what it was. I patted my chest and repeated “Pa Rititia”, shaking my head. I tried hard to ignore Suni who again looked ready to burst into tears, and keep my attention solely on Alele.

“Ko Rititia”, she insisted, and that was final. She wouldn’t hear any more of my objections, and gestured me to sit down. I protested a few more times, but she was relentless and started looking worryingly much like her husband. I wanted spare her the embarrassment of having others see her cry, since it was so important to her she look poised at all times. Ritidia whispered comforting things to me, even Kinati looked worried for me. Everything was all right. There was no need to worry about anything.

That could only have been Ritidia. I sure didn’t feel like everything would be fine, despite what my brain said. This family had fake-gained a family member, but mine had real-lost one. My friends would never see me again. No one on my planet would ever know where I had gone. They wouldn’t know why I had gone. They’d interrogate Claire about my secret boyfriends and ask Heidi about the time I said I wanted to run away from home because Marie had been a little shit and broken my phone. Maybe after a while even they would believe I had run off with some guy I met on the internet. The one thing no one would ever have the imagination to suspect was that I had been spirited away to another dimension and was impersonating a dead girl. What an unbelievable predicament, this just couldn’t be real. I had to be in some kind of lucid coma dream. Maybe I had slipped and banged my head on a rock. The brain damage was too severe, I would never wake up. They’d pull the plug any minute now.

In the afternoon I felt calm enough to do some studying. I was never good at school, but I liked it alright. If nothing else the brain work let me concentrate on something other than my own misery. I went over my little dictionary, practised the alphabet some more, doodled a few more pictures. Stared brainlessly out the window. Noticed a buggy coming to the courtyard, and an elderly couple climbing out. The whole family was there to receive them. Suni parents. There was lots of hugging.

More family coming home.

The word for family was “itoa”. Ritidia had told me while introducing Suni’s parents. She had brought out an extensive and artistic family tree, and traced her lineage up to them. Her grandmother’s name was Sareleila Rini, the grandfather’s name was Tatela Siuen. I remember thinking that it was a little difficult to tell which parent was which, but mostly I was so overcome with loneliness and  envy I just thought about my own family. Only two of my own grandparents still lived, mum’s mum died of post-partum infection five days after my mother’s birth, and dad’s mum died of a heart attack five years ago. I had three cousins, all under 20 years of age. All from dad’s side, of course – I was my mother’s only child. Far as we knew, anyway. We didn’t want to think about it, who’d want to think about it, but who’s to say she didn’t have more babies in her acid-fueled state of mind and just throw them out in to the forest? Who’s to say the reason the bear hung out at the cottage wasn’t that it had learned the hut was a good source of easy meat?

Suni’s parents were more posh than he was, but they weren’t on Alele’s level. They could see I wasn’t having the time of my life and retreated to their room. For a while I hoped Ritidia would also piss off, but after a while I found her presence just a bit comforting. She taught me more family words, and listened when I told her about my own family – not that she understood, but it felt like she did, on some level. I told her about my own una, Marie, that she was a horrible brat but also bloody funny. She drew these dadaist stick-figure comics that mum and dad never understood, because understanding wasn’t the point. Mum, me, had a bad una who got into drugs at fifteen, was kicked out at eighteen, and lived in shanty towns and homeless shelters for six years, then “built” a “hut”, that is to say “gathered some garbage and stacked them to a crude approximation of shelter”, in a forest. That’s where I was born. They said I must have only been a few months old when that bear killed my mother, and if it had been winter I would have died from exposure. A hiker had heard me crying and called the cops. And as so often happens when someone dies, everyone suddenly hoped they had treated her better and had always wanted to support her – so mum adopted me and named me after her sister’s childhood nickname. Madeline and Patricia – Mimi and Pats.

I fully expected to cry again, but Ritidia helped me through it. She shared some stories of her own family – she had the most to tell about her paternal cousins, sesetunas. Heliko and Alima’s eldest, Ailasou, lived in the third wing. Ailasou’s younger sibling, Hoibon, had the first occupied room from Ritidia’s. Uli was also apparently an interesting case, as Ritidia talked about them for a solid ten minutes.

As the names went on, I noticed that none of the spouses shared their last name. Some had no surname at all. Suni was a Rini, as most of the people in the manor, and married to a Niasa. However, his sibling Heliko Rini had married Alima - just Alima. And Kee Rini had married Sato. It wasn’t laziness, this family tree was a work of art, and it wasn’t lack of space, if there was enough space to write Umalartuna Lustaro there was space for Sato Whatever.

Alele and her kids were the only Niasas in the manor. It started to look like Suni really was the heir. Made you question just how much more rich and powerful the Niasas were since his kids had inherited the mother’s name. I tried to ask about this by saying “Niasa” and gesturing vaguely at the painted family tree. Ritidia was smart, I had to give her that – she immediately took me to the library, where she dug out a living room wall-sized painting. Being paper, it rolled up nicely to save some space, but it was still taller than us. This one went back to Ritidia’s great-great-great grandparents, and had so many branches that following them got confusing. First off, the name Niasa had only been introduced to the the family three generations ago – and then there was someone who’s first name was Niasa, when their other parent’s surname was Niasa.

I told Ritidia my surname was Willow, but their alphabet didn’t have W. So I used the Latin alphabet. She was very interested, asked me to write her name, and then revealed she had a middle name – Jaslak. Her siblings’ full names were Rititia Nupuri Niasa and Kinati Geauda Niasa. Alele Umlie Niasa had a nice rhythm to it, as did Suni Tsejanna Rini. Much better than Mimi Agatha Willow. And I didn’t even have a relative named Agatha! There was no reason to make me sound that old! Marie hadn’t gotten off much better, her full name was Virginia Marie. Who gives their kid a religious pun for a name? My parents are crap at naming. Marie had tried to go by Ginny for all of elemantary school, but for some reason Marie stuck.

I tried to convey nickname to Ritidia through some gestures and examples, so it was no wonder she didn’t understand. Then I wrote some examples on the paper. She still might not have been exactly on the map, but she did shorten Ritidia to Dia. Not many names in her family could be shortened, but when they could, they didn’t differ from the root – Asatair just became Asa or Tair, and Tolekirara became Toleki. No Richard-to-Dicks in this language. The weird thing was that many of the longer names, such as Beruhon, could not be shortened at all.

I was trying to ask about her maternal aunts and uncles, fonas, when she informed that her sesetuna, cousin, and their parent had come home – by suddenly piping up “Sesetuna u me sias!”. I let myself be dragged outside to receive them alongside the rest of the family, Suni’s parents included. Their knees were in great shape, two sets of stairs and they weren’t even out of breath. They smiled at me quietly.

It wasn’t just one cousin and one parent coming home, it was both Kee and Sato and all three of their kids- – Hamaoben, Uli and Lieha. So far Suni’s brother Kee was the only unmistakeably masculine man – he had a goatee and a jawline like Superman. His wife, Sato, turned out to be his husband. Glad to see this country was pretty progressive, not only were they married and recognized as a couple in the family tree, they also had adopted three kids, who were registered into the family tree as their own.

I wasn’t quite as glad about the sudden interest in me. Once Ritidia had introduced me, Uli squeed and tried to hug me with the same enthusiasm as Ritidia had when she first saw me. Rititia must have been incredibly loved to get this greeting after disappearing for God knows how many years. Uli’s enormous earrings clinked softly with each look he threw my way. He went beyond effeminate – valley girl mannerisms aside, he openly wore girly jewellery, flowers in his bun and frilly dresses, and probably lipstick, no one has that kind of pink naturally. He didn’t necessarily look bad – just weird since he was so clearly a young boy, 14 at the most. His sisters weren’t even half as feminine. And that’s saying something, considering their neatly braided hairdos and flowy dresses. Of the whole family, Sato was the only one to wear trousers. Note that it didn’t mean he wasn’t also wearing flowers.

Unlike Suni’s parents, this family had some luggage with them and went to unpack. Ritidia urged me to change into the cream dress. I had been done for only a minute when the next batch of family returned home – this time it was Temaha with his wife Matuke, and their daughter Asa. All three of them were remarkably “common people”, like Suni. No jewellery, simple cotton clothes, one braid or ponytail. None of the trio tried to hug me, also very reasonable behaviour – or Ritidia had sent them a message beforehand. They weren’t sure what to make of me, and in the end just slightly bowed to me.

Even with the three families at the table, the hilariously huge dining table had space to spare. Even if you counted in the four missing family members, there were still seats for about fifteen guests. Table conversation was still loud enough, and seemed to mostly be about me. There were lots of Mimis and Rititias thrown around. Some were said with pity, some with rage, and Uli’s feelings about the matter seemed to change every twenty seconds. He had changed out of his cream cake layer dress to something approximating casual wear. The earrings had stayed on, though.

I didn’t feel like any of the displeasure was aimed at me, however. I guess they were just angry at the circumstances. The long-lost daughter had finally been found, but she didn’t speak the language and thought she was someone else.

By the end of the dinner only the grandparents, Temaha, and Asa still called me Rititia. The rest had accepted that the Rititia they saw in front of them was a different person from the one they used to know, and so could be called by a different name. Whether it was more for their comfort or mine, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t have much time to wonder about it anyway – the language teacher appeared again, and I was ushered back into the study room. I was presented with an illustrated dictionary meant for small children. The teacher fixed my pronunciation, made me write some more, taught some expressions – like “thank you” and “bye bye” - and wished me good night.

Rushing my brain with something else to think besides my family had worked amazingly. I completely forgot about them at dinner, and didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself in language class. I had been under the covers for half an hour before I suddenly thought of mum again, and by then I was so exhausted I fell asleep soon after regardless.

[jamiekturner]

100 Days of Vector Illustration

It was January 2017. I moved from San Francisco to Seattle. The winter was dark and the rain seemed never to stop. One night, I sat down, played some music, and opened Sketch. Four months later, I completed my 4th 100-day-project — 100 Days of Vector.

I started my first 100-day-project back in 2015. It taught me that creativity is a skill — the more you practice it, the more creative you are. Since then, I have challenged myself to explore different tools to exercise my creative muscle.

My past projects include 100 Days of Doodle, 100 Days of Lettering, and 100 Days of Watercolor.

In my most recent project 100 Days of Vector, I focused on the digital tool. Each day, I created a vector illustration in Sketch and posted it on Instagram with the hashtag #100daysofvectorbytx.

Here is my thought process and reflection behind this project.

Why vector?

As a visual thinker, I enjoy vivid color and shaped-based illustration. The digital artwork posted on Behance and Dribbble have always inspired me. I wanted to learn how to create vector illustration in order to make beautiful things.

Plus, without a formal training in graphic design, this 100-day-project would be a good opportunity to hone my vector illustration skill.

I chose to use Sketch for this project because it’s easy to use and affordable. Its basic vector-editing feature set helped me focus on completion rather than perfection.

Getting started

My setup can be summarized into the following 3 steps:

1. Set up Sketch

I used a 600px by 600px artboard for each illustration. Inside my Sketch file, there are 100 artboards arranged by a 10×10 matrix in one page — it allows me to look at all the pieces together for easy comparison and reference.

Inside my Sketch file

2. Brainstorm ideas

The subjects created in this 100-day-project were things I like. Once I came up with a topic (e.g. food series), I spent time on brainstorming different things I’d like to create within that topic.

I used a notebook to record ideas. Sometimes I doodled everything on notebook and organized them into sub-groups. This way, I can plan ahead to avoid the last-minute “idea-hunting” panic.

Brainstorm Ideas

3. Define color palette

One thing I learned along the way is to define a color palette ahead of time.

For example, in the food series, I defined 5 background colors to be used repeatedly. It not only ensured consistency but also helped me narrow down the subjects of the day — some items matched well with the background color while others didn’t.

Define Color Palette

Day 1–25

Follow tutorials

Following tutorials is the best way to learn a new skill. I followed two of my favorite tutorials on Tuts+. They were created for Adobe Illustrator, but the vector-editing process were the same in Sketch.

I created the succulent series by following How to Create a Trio of Succulents in Adobe Illustrator written by Nataliya Dolotko.

100 Days of vector — Succulent Series

Then I created the planet series by following How to Create a Solar System Planets Icon Pack in Adobe Illustrator written by Andrei Stefan. In this series, I went beyond the original tutorial and applied different visual styles to each planet.

100 Days of Vector — Planet Series

Day 26–42

Dog alphabet

On February, I participated in the alphabet challenge organized by HandletteredABCs on Instagram. During the challenge, I illustrated 26 dog breeds in alphabetical order. I had a lot of fun researching dog breeds while honing my illustration skill.

100 Days of Vector — Dog Alphabet

Day 43-90

Food series

I spent the next 48 days illustrating food icons. Some food ideas were inspired by my childhood — the popular Chinese snacks like Zongzi, Yuan Xuan, Shaomai, etc. Other food ideas were inspired by my experience in the U.S. — the street food like hotdog, taco, pretzel, etc.

In order to collect more ideas, I asked people what their favorite food was on Instagram. The comments were amazing — some food like Nattō and pop-tart were the ones that I have never tried before. I loved the fact how a side project can encourage me to step out of my comfort zone and try out new things.

100 Days of Vector — Food Series

Day 91-100

Cocktail series

In the last 10 days, I created 10 cocktail illustrations. This time I applied a consistent visual style across all the pieces. I also managed to play with color blending modes — something I have never used before.

100 Days of Vector — Cocktail Series

Reflecting

1. Always stay inspired

I have always believed that creativity is a skill — the more your practice it, the more creative you are. However, this time I learned something new:

In order to be creative, you need to stay inspired.

When I was working on the dog alphabet, I simply repeated the same visual pattern everyday. I didn’t look for outside inspiration. Soon I got bored and wasn’t feeling creative anymore.

Since then, I decided to stay inspired all the time. I spent 10–30 minutes every day browsing Dribbble, Behance, Instagram and collected the best work on my Pinterest boards. My growing Pinterest collection has served as my source of inspiration and I was able to stay creative for the rest of the 100 days.

2. Stop comparing

I still remember the feeling when I stumbled upon the wonderful work from “36 Days of Type” challenge. Those work, created by top artists and illustrators all over the world, were so good.

For a while I started to question the existence of my own work.

As I dug into those artists’ backgrounds, I realized that they are professional illustrators/designers who have been in the creative field for a long time. It doesn’t make sense to compare my work with theirs because we have different background, experience and goals. We are on different creative path.

The only thing I would compare my work to is my old work. Whenever I was in doubt, I looked back at my own work from the first day. The huge improvements on skill and process have always motivated me to continue my creative journey.

“Take pride in how far you’ve come. Have faith in how far you can go. But don’t forget to enjoy the journey.”

— Michael Josephson

3. Embrace the gap between ambition and output

Although I can see improvements on my illustration skill over time, I was frequently disappointed by my own work: the poor color combination, the bad type choice, the lack of consistent visual style… Sometimes I simply felt the work was not good, but I had no idea how to improve it.

Ira Glass described this gap between ambition and output:

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you.”

I decided to embrace the gap between ambition and output. As long as the gap exists, there is room to learn and improve. It is only by going through a volume of work that I will close that gap, and my work will be as good as my ambitions.

4. Do the work that feeds your soul

I started my first 100-day-project in 2015. Since then, I would receive a few “Likes” and gain new followers on social media. However, as more and more people paid attention to my work, I started feeling lost. I got distracted by the number of “Likes” and wanted to create something people like in order to gain more recognition.

That’s why I found Jessica Walsh’s words resonating:

“Do the work that feeds your soul, not your ego.”

I reminded myself the goal of this project was to make beautiful things even if nobody cares. I wanted to hone my vector illustration skills. I wanted to express myself by creating things that resonated with me. This project was started for the sake of creation, not for fame.

“Create for the sake of creation whenever you feel the urge to do so. Treat it as a basic human need. Challenge, surprise, change yourself .”

— @fell_martins

End

Looking back, I feel accomplished. I created 100 pieces of vector illustration during the past 100 days. My illustration skill has been improved. The satisfaction of creating something that resonates with my soul feels great.

Since I started the first 100-day-project in 2015, I have formed the habit of creating. I’m grateful to be part of the 100-day-project community and I look forward to starting the next 100-day-project soon.

Below is my 100 days of vector illustration in 15 seconds.

A post shared by Tiantian Xu (@tiantianxu) on Jul 22, 2017 at 2:05pm PDT

Resources

Here are some helpful links:

Design & Illustration Tutorials on Envato Tuts+

Sketch App Crash Course by Sketch Together

Sketch Tips & Tutorials by InVision

About that space illustration you keep seeing around by Nina Geometrieva

Sketch Tutorial — Colorful Switch by Sebastien Gabriel

100 Days of Making by Tom Wahlin

Color in UI Design: A (Practical) Framework by Erik D. Kennedy

Sketch: Blending Modes 101 by Mauricio Uehara

Also, check out the following Instagram accounts for design inspiration:

Community: supplyanddesign, thedesigntalks, genecreative, illustate,

Individual: maite_franchi, lukedoylestudio, juliendreamdesign, liquid_ink, rosemarie.cc, typoe11, bymeilne, marioayala.design

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