#idk their life idk their choices

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Hi, Chekhov, I have a question for you. For artists like you, is patrons sharing your Patreon work ever a problem?

Yes.

[tofixtheshadows]

So I've been thinking lately about how Mithrun is Kabru's dark mirror (more on that another time- it needs its own post), and I thought it interesting that one of their parallels is that they were both cared for by Milsiril, but in opposite directions. She took Kabru in as her foster after he was orphaned and tried to convince him not to become an adventurer. On the flip side, she helped rehabilitate Mithrun specifically so that he could rejoin the Canaries.

And I kept wondering: why?

For Kabru, obviously she loves him a whole lot- despite any other shortcomings in their relationship, I do believe that.

So I get why she tries to convince him not to go dungeoning, and, failing that, at least prepares him as thoroughly as she can.

But why help Mithrun? She used to hate Mithrun, but after realizing what a secretly twisted person he was, she actually thought of him more positively (oh, Milsiril). So it wasn't as if she held the kind of grudge that might motivate her to make his already-depleted life even more miserable by sending him back to the dungeons. And it wasn't that she felt bad for him either, since she didn't visit Mithrun for the first ~20 years of his recovery.

The Adventurer's Bible says that Utaya was the impetus for Mithrun returning to the Canaries, but Milsiril is the one who made the trip to see him and tell him about it.

Why would Milsiril work so hard to get her old coworker back into fighting fit? Why encourage him to return to such a dangerous lifestyle, when she was the one who chose not to mercy-kill him?

That last panel is such a crazy thing to hint at and then never elaborate on. Without it we could have just thought that Milsiril wanted the Canaries' work to continue without her, even if it seemed out of character. I think some people even assume she's just a natural caretaker as a foster mom and handwave it to include nursing Mithrun too. What could Milsiril's suspicious motives be? What does she gain from Mithrun joining the Canaries that isn't an altruistic desire to see dungeons safely sealed? Feeling a sense of responsibility for the work she left behind isn't an ulterior motive.

My theory is: Milsiril, knowing that Mithrun was empty save for the burning desire to face the demon again, wound him up like a clockwork doll and pointed him back at the dungeons.

Hoping that he'd eliminate the biggest threat to Kabru's life, before it was too late for him.

Milsiril the puppetmaster.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

i think the barbie movie would have a profound psychological impact on hua cheng

prev comic / next comic / follow for still more hualian barbie movie content because i am not done

bonus angsty version 🎉 i hate love expressions just a couple tiny lines on the mouth and eyebrows and it goes from silly to sad

:(

[liauditore]

so much has happened to this thing since it joined hermitcraft

[victimized-martyr]

Kyle investigatin [Cartman heard a thump]

[spiderziege]

messing around with line weight & pen pressure (as in, i havent used those at all for quite a while so this is. an attempt)

[mxtxfanatic]

Sometimes I wonder about Nie Huaisang. His grief growing up with bones in the walls, or his inability to grieve without them. His only blood brother, Nie Mingjue, who he both loved and feared, who wanted to force Nie Huaisang onto a path of self-destruction, who died in the midst of betraying him in the worst way, who, stolen from his resting place, continues to haunt his little brother long after his death. The second sworn brother, Lan Xichen, who shielded him from his brother’s wrath but who also provided his brother’s murderer with the murder weapon, who Nie Huaisang in turn fashions into a murder weapon. And finally, Jin Guangyao, the last sworn brother, who stood up to Nie Mingjue on Nie Huaisang’s behalf, who kept Nie Clan secrets, who gifted him the things his brother scorned him for, who smiled in his face before murdering his brother.

I think about the Nie Huaisang who spends 12 years meticulously crafting a vengeance for Nie Mingjue, who never seemed invested in understanding him in life nor recognizing him in death. I think about the Nie Huaisang who stands a while before Jin Guangyao’s hat outside of Guanyin Temple, eventually picking it up and carrying it with him. I think about the Nie Huaisang who, alone, arranged his brother’s funeral a second time together with the funeral of his brother’s murderer, trapped eternally in the same coffin. What did it feel like to no longer be haunted by a brother after 12 long years? I wonder if he finally grieves.

[syl-stormblessed]

everyone loves talking about the batshit worldbuilding in WoT but I feel like everybody tends to overlook the Vaguely Evil Elves From Another Dimension that have their own officially licensed chutes and ladders-esque board game that you Cannot Ever Win

[no-where-new-hero]

omg I need your thoughts on the terminally o line author culture bc ngl it makes my eye TWITCH, there are authors I deliberately avoid even tho I've heard their stuff is good bc they're like that 🙈

HHHHH oh good lord, okay, from how I see it, there are two angles on this, both aggravating and sad: the official decree one and the spontaneous ecosystem one.

The officious one is that the nature of publishing nowadays demands an author have an online presence. You need Twitter/X. You need to let every potential reader know your book is coming out. You need engagement through reviews and pre-orders incentives (if you buy now you’ll get a special keychain!!) and word of mouth assurances from your peers that yes your book is as cool as you say it is. You need a newsletter with links (more buying! more voting on lists that are simply popularity contests!) and promises you’re still working on the next thing, don’t forget about me in the morass of everyone else doing the same thing. You need an Instagram and TikTok now to post pretty pictures and videos because one or two authors made it big off this kind of promotion and now everyone thinks it’s the ticket to the bestseller list (sadly, it seems to be working). You need an OnlyFans (a joke but I do recall a twt spat that was a joke/not joke about how rupi kaur will always be more beautiful than her critics and people who took issue with the conflation of beauty with talent). At the end of all this, you’re basically an influencer, a content creator creating content for the content you should be focusing on creating, the finished novel. And the novel itself seems to be disappearing behind the masks used to promote it (fanfic-style tropes, moodboards, playlists, memes) until I now no longer trust the book that I’ll pick up to have any resemblance to the enticements that brought me here. I’ve seen an author or two complain about the stress all this self-promotion generates, but it’s become such an entrenched part of the industry, I think people just accept it. And thus spend too much time online hoping that if they tweet just a little more, produce just one more reel, maybe that’ll be the difference between a sale and no sale.

The other side of this, distinct but obviously connected, is the ecosystem created by this panic of being perpetually visible coupled with the fact that so many of the new authors came of age during the rise of internet fandom culture. That opinionated community mindset that blurs the line between anonymity and friendship is the lens they bring to their own work. I mean, it makes sense I suppose—if you love yelling about characters and words, why wouldn’t you do that once you start to produce your own? This really came home to me hearing about that reviewbombgate “scandal” and how people involved were in reylo circles and that was used to provide receipts. You’re interacting with your readers and peers about your intimate work but they are also all strangers. They will not always give you the benefit of the doubt, and now—as opposed to the past when maybe the worst that could happen was a handful of bad reviews in newspapers—you will either be tagged in hate reviews, sub-tweeted, explicitly called out, demanded to atone for your sins. It’s no longer the morality of consumption but the morality of production. Of course, the easy answer is just log-off, touch some grass. But that can work only when you and everyone else are separated by anonymous accounts or when you have no platform to maintain. As an author trying to make your livelihood from this, suddenly it’s do or die. We’re in a strange moment of authorship bringing the Internet’s echo-chamber and claustrophobic into the real world (this is a lie: publishing now is no longer the real world. But it looks like it) and thus you can kind of no longer escape things.

Will the average reader who isn’t aware of all these machinations care about reviewbombgate? Would a reader browsing at Target think about the controversies around Lightlark? Very likely not. But the impression I’m getting more and more is that the average reader isn’t the one buying all the books. Or shall we say—a bestseller’s status relies on bookstore stock. Bookstore stock is only huge when they know a book will be a good investment. They’ll only know a book is a good investment if it and its author has street cred based on booktokkers, bookstagram, bloggers and reviewers (have you noticed how many books out these last maybe 1-3 years have these kinds of accounts thanked in the acknowledgments? Yeah), and THESE are also chronically online people who will Know. And decide the cast of fate.

Honestly, @batrachised, I see why you avoid these kinds of writers, though I wonder how long it’ll be before the disease becomes epidemic.

[gideonisms]

There is a particular brand of autism in which by an almost unheard of stroke of good fortune a child will wind up in the exact circumstance that suits them best for 15-18 years in a row. The problem then arises that one's life does not end at 18. There are so many years after that to try and learn coping mechanisms as fast as possible or else your entire adult life crumbles for no reason that really makes sense to anyone else

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

not me immediately getting jude from this

who did you guys get? 👀

[inkskinned]

the rise of AI art isn't surprising to us. for our entire lives, the attitude towards our skills has always been - that's not a real thing. it has been consistently, repeatedly devalued.

people treat art - all forms of it - as if it could exist by accident, by rote. they don't understand how much art is in the world. someone designed your home. someone designed the sign inside of your local grocery store. when you quote a character or line from something in media, that's a line a real person wrote.

"i could do that." sure, but you didn't. there's this joke where a plumber comes over to a house and twists a single knob. charges the guy 10k. the guy, furious, asks how the hell the bill is so high. the plumber says - "turning the knob was a dollar. the knowledge is the rest of the money."

the trouble is that nobody believes artists have knowledge. that we actively study. that we work hard, beyond doing our scales and occasionally writing a poem. the trouble is that unless you are already framed in a museum or have a book on a shelf or some kind of product, you aren't really an artist. hell, because of where i post my work, i'll never be considered a poet.

the thing that makes you an artist is choice. the thing that makes all art is choice. AI art is the fetid belief that art is instead an equation. that it must answer a specific question. Even with machine learning, AI cannot make a choice the way we can - because the choices we make have always been personal, complicated. our skills cannot be confined to "prompt and execution." what we are "solving" isn't just a system of numbers - it is how we process our entire existence. it isn't just "2 and 2 is 4", it's staring hard at the numbers and making the four into an alligator. it's rearranging the letters to say ow and it is the ugly drawing we make in the margin.

at some point, you will be able to write something by feeding my work into a machine. it will be perfectly legible and even might sound like me. but a machine doesn't understand why i do these things. it can be taught preferences, habits, statistical probability. it doesn't know why certain vowels sound good to me. it doesn't know the private rules i keep. it doesn't know how to keep evolving.

"but i want something to exist that doesn't exist yet." great. i'm glad you feel creative. go ahead and pay a fucking artist for it.

this is all saying something we all already knew. the sad fucking truth: we have to die to remind you. only when we're gone do we suddenly finally fucking mean something to you. artists are not replicable. we each genuinely have a skill, talent, and process that makes us unique. and there's actual quiet power in everything we do.

[whimsyprinx]

I feel like now is a good time to announce that I’m in the process of moving blogs! Im doing so for a few reasons, the main one being paranoia, so for that reason I won’t be saying my new urls publicly so like please dm me if you’d like my new url so you can follow me there! I’ll be reblogging this post a lot so ppl can see it (so sorry if you get annoyed by that)!

I’m also remaking my discord account as well so if we’re friends on there then feel free to message me for my new username!

friends and mutuals please do reblog so shared friends/mutuals have a higher chance seeing it!

[arsenicflame]

i Do Not Trust people who make Mary the bad guy in their stories when the show went out of its way to specifically show us how she was suffering just as much as stede was in their marriage and that shes, yknow, a good person

[i-am-a-freg]

People would really have you murder babies with disabilities. Mom might grieve after that baby is born, in fact she probably will, especially if it was unexpected. But how much worse to decide that child should die, and never get to learn how to take care of them, to help them grow into a beautiful human, help them learn how to live?

[ninjathrowingstork]

More Renfield potato content but I can't stop thinking about this moment,

Ugh it's the first time he's seen it's possible to stand up to someone that much stronger, even if it means knowing they could kill you she'd rather go down fighting than be paid off and be owned by the mob like the rest of the department

And then

The great war. WWI.

Sure he catches himself and does know recent global events, but it means something that it's the earlier war he thinks of first. If we're basing his age off Dwight Frye's, then he'd have been fifteen when the war started, just turning nineteen when it ended. He grew up during the war that wiped out most of a generation, maybe older boys he'd known. Did young Robert Montague Renfield also join, once he was of age near the end of the war? Did he at all see action in the final years? He'd already lived in a world where he'd feel powerless against the constant death and horror of the war.

And then, being young and studying to be a lawyer in the 20s, seeing the glitz and money and industry rising around him, and then just passing the exams in 1930-31 (in Dracula, Jonathan only learns he's passed as he's leaving to meet the Count) and the early years of the Depression and stock market crash, and he's a young father and trying to make this business deal that might set his career and provide for his family as the market is fading from under him, he's grasping for any way to keep up the career and family and life that a businessman is expected to in his generation, and then. And then he meets this aristocrat who promises him immortality, to not die like so many others he'd known, to have access to prestige and society and wealth that he's craved, if only in exchange for his service. And back then, it was more common for a gentleman to have a valet, after all, and his own father might have employed one himself. But he was also alone, no one else knowing where he'd traveled to and seeing this power and monstrosity from one man, being terrified and weak and isolated he just broke. The person he'd been before was gone, traded for a trickle of physical strength and the status of serving an aristocrat and by the time society rotated and that social power didn't mean as much, it was too late for him to have walked away without being shown that was even possible. He's traded his freedom for the assurance he wouldn't die, wouldn't be vulnerable to the uncertainties of the world he'd grown up in, but he says The Great War because that was the last one he was actually free and a person for.