I GAVE UP 馃帀(kind of)
Yuu Shi Tapis Rouge/Luxe Couture
SO. The armature was a bust. Learning how to make one would take a shit ton of time and i just- would prefer to do that on my own terms without the looming feeling of- well, wanting to post her design all the time given its been finished for a WHILE.
To make up for it though, i made fake homescreen screenshots ig JFNDJDJD theyre not the best, but fuck it i think i replicated the twst style rather well.
Her outfit is based more around the same line Vil had, and I took a lot of inspiration from Gucci (pinterest, my saving grace yet again)
More under the cut! V
A vERY quick thing i made of another potential sprite, i'd imagine there'd be a toggle to take off the shawl. Also I did one of Yuu Shi in her more masc disguise! Yes. We keep the dress. 馃憦
After this I don't particularly have any new art planned for a second, I want to shift my focus to finishing wips/projects and resuming progress on TCOAV. So- hey! If you've yet to read and are interested, now may be a good time to start with chapter 6 on the way.
I've blabbed enough for today IFNFDNID
Tag list!!! Just ask if ya wanna be added 馃挄
@kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3 @skriblee-ksk @lowcallyfruity @thehollowwriter
@distant-velleity @cecilebutcher
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I know I鈥檝e already said this but I am SO excited for the prompt event in August :D I have twenty things written and queued so far for y鈥檃ll, hopefully I can get the rest done sooner rather than later lol.
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You know what I find so funny? That I鈥檝e come across a lot of people on TikTok that have something against this one account that posts pjo content. I do too, I mean I got into an argument with them because they kept saying percabeth is strained because annabeth made Percy feel suicidal. And I ended up blocking them because they made a story saying that percabeth shippers need to calm down in their comment section because we鈥檙e crazy or something like that. And I just wanted to scream like this isn鈥檛 because you don鈥檛 ship percabeth, it鈥檚 because you constantly bash annabeth, unintentionally but prominently make Percy this stupid victim that can鈥檛 feel for himself, and think pereyna and Perachel had better development (not to bash pereyna or Perachel shippers, but in canon, this is just obviously not true). And I thought I was the only one who had something against this person but now people are speaking up about it I guess and I think it鈥檚 so funny because I鈥檝e BEEN having problems with them.
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"Do you have to possess me? ... Can't I just let you out? Open the door for you? Something less... Committal?"
"..."
The Narrator:
The Heroine goes quiet. Slowly, a sinister grin crawls across her face. It looks a little too wide, a little too uncanny.
"Yknow what? You are so right. That would make things easier, wouldn't it?"
Voice of the Prince:
Opening a door versus being possessed. I do prefer the former.
Voice of the Cold:
Don't rule it out of the question so fast. Just because it can happen doesn't mean it will.
The Narrator:
Why are we even discussing this, just go on and slay her already. There is no way you are going through with letting her out. She cannot leave this basement.
Voice of the Cold:
We're fine. We can handle ourself just fine. Besides, she's a ghost. She can't do anything to us, but we probably can't do much to her.
The Narrator:
She isn't a ghost, and you can still slay her. You always can. The blade is in your hand.
Voice of the Cold:
You think she isn't a ghost? She's admitted it herself. She's floaty and translucent. And most importantly, she's dead.
Voice of the Prince:
I... I'd like to agree, but I genuinely can't find it in myself to agree. She is dead, but she's also kind of... Not-dead. Would a normal ghost be trapped here like this?
Voice of the Cold:
What an idea. What do you think she is, then?
The Narrator:
Would you stop with the open discussions? Good heavens, all you do is talk. There is no use wondering what she is, because she is clearly right in front of you, and actively planning an escape route! That should be enough to convince you that your blade needs to go into her heart, regardless of how transparent it is.
"So? Now that this whole thing just got a whole lot simpler, we can go now, right? Then let's go."
>>>
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Can you imagine Gale during his isolation? An entire year, an entire year with little more than the shadows swelling in the corner of your library and the growing thoughts pressing hard against the cage of your skull. Gale with his Molotov of emotions, his bouts of extreme sorrow, bone-crushing hopelessness, the anger, the bitterness, the acceptance of a guilt he has no business accepting. Imagine how he suffered before he found out how to temper the teeth and hunger of the orb in his chest. Did he suffer? Did the rot spiral to a frightening degree? What he thought when he felt the skin of his arm break, spot the drip of blood that poured not red but purple, a shade of purple so steep and dark that it paled night and voids and whole penumbras. How he felt as Tara turned her eyes on him, her composure riled, ruptured just a touch with a worry she tries so very hard not to show around Mr. Dekarios. How he felt getting letters from acquaintances, not friends, that dwindled and dwindled as the months passed on with no response from Gale of Waterdeep, famed archmage and lover of Mystra herself. How he lost so much of his magic. How he felt spurned from the goddess he looked up to for nearly all his life, how he felt when the Weave, when the spells he spent so long learning and perfecting were torn from him, swallowed by this sucking bomb in his bones.
How alone. How quiet. How Tara would leave to find artefacts once they discovered the Weave inside them would balm and thwart his ticking doom by a whisper of time. How, in those days, he would sit there with books he's already read thrice over, his hair speckled with more grey, the beard he's been growing out scratching against his face. His lonely terrace. Mother's tone of increasing concern in her hand-written letters, piled together on Gale's desk with quaint twine, the broken seal of House Dekarios waxed in an indigo shade over the parchment. It smells of her. He misses home, and home has never felt so far.
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A world of boozey, floozy flashing lights 馃毈馃馃拫
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Part 2/7 of my Ride the Cyclone song illustrations: Noel鈥檚 Lament!
(Image description in Alt Text. Reblogs always appreciated!!!)
~
Extra closeups :]
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listen i know yall are very excited to share ur original concepts/ideas but my ask box is not the place for you to do that in. respectfully, yall can make ur own posts for that
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