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#in your skin and your clothes
ruvi-muffin · 1 year
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Hear yee shadowgast nation
I bringeth (in jest) the history of rings so we may partake in the culturally appropriate (jesting) adornment of the blorbos hjykg
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According to this, married men in germany wore their weding rings on the right hand in the 50s (but only After they're married. If they were engaged they wore it on the left. Fun right!) And in eastern europe apparently they're Also worn on the right hand
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greenlaut · 29 days
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anatomy of an assassin
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pherre · 9 months
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my take on the steeplechase trio (and montrose’s mask variants)
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orthopoogle · 3 months
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It’s really, really annoying how many women will wear bikinis and lowcut tank tops and see-through leggings and booty shorts with their buttcheeks hanging out, but then turn around and be all, “Men should be able to control themselves and stop lusting after me!” Like girl, we know why you’re dressed like that, you know why you’re dressed like that, everyone knows why you’re dressed like that. Stop pretending, lol.
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lazycranberrydoodles · 7 months
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COME ON GUYS DON'T LET DIANXIA DOWN
#images i drew on my phone approximately 90 seconds before class started#tma vs tgcf is pitting two bad bitches against each other but#from the other guys propaganda he is apparently a beloved side character#which i totally understand.#BUT HUA CHENG IS THE DEUTERANTAGONIST WHO LOVED XIE LIAN SO MUCH IT UNDOOMED HIM FROM THE NARRATIVE#HE DIDNT CLAW HIS WAY OUT OF TONGLU TO BE BEATEN LIKE THIS#also tma has gay people that dont undoom each other from the narrative. L + ratio (/j/j/j/j we all love tragedies here)#hua cheng will never rest in peace and he doesn't want to because he has a smokin boyfriend#they are both angry goths but has gerry died THREE TIMES????? no. just once. lame.#gerry got his skin bound into a necromancy book that was eventually burned but hua cheng ripped out his eye to craft a sickass scimitar !!!#hua cheng haunts the narrative before he dies in a hundred tiny ways and then HEAVILY after he dies a second time#he's an awesome city owner and has violent beef with HEAVEN. and he carves statues and paints and builds temples#and is also a self conscious loser <3#his gay awakening was intensely traumatic and religious for everybody involved. and he's had the same life mission since he was 10#he is actively fighting ghost discrimination and getting dangerous magical items off of the normal human market#also he is always bedecked in elaborate silver and chains and eyeliner and ALWAYS in blood red clothes#HE CAN MAKE IT RAIN BLOOD!!???!?!? ALSO#he stick and poked his god's name on himself but his handwriting is so bad it's unrecognizable and the signs he puts up have evil auras#this has ceased to be propaganda. now im just gushing. only tgcf fans will see this anyway. whatever youre getting blorbo rant#tgcf#art#poll#hua cheng#lmao#my art#tian guan ci fu#hualian#xie lian#hob#heaven official's blessing
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wildstar25 · 1 month
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I was thinking about WOL outfits and what not, so here's a question:
And to elaborate on the difference between option 1 and option 2, a brief explanation of my interpretations under the cut:
Illusion magic only masks the true appearance of an item, bending the light aether around the item to make it look different to the naked eye. No physical properties of the armour changes. It maintains its original dimensions and weight. If your WOL was wearing full plate armour then glamoured it to something more revealing, if someone tried to stab an exposed area, their knife would stop on impact of the concealed armour.
Transformation magic will fully alter the physical appearance of the armour into the applied glamour. It will take on the shape and structure of the WOL's desired form, but the properties of the materials used will be maintained. The high grade metal of the armour will be altered to a state where it was like a woven thread. The item would provide the same degree of protection as the original where it physically exists in its glamoured state. If your WOL glamoured their plate armour into a the street wear top, their actual abdomen could be pierced by weapon. Because this is magic you could fudge the physics if you so choose or say there's a secondary spell involved; but I'd imagine that if the transformation was completely lossless, your glamoured item will weight the same amount as the un-glamoured version. (Otherwise it would be more like a transmutation which is a lossy conversion and not reversible. The WOL turned their new savage tier BIS armour into a hempen camise and lost 95% of the material in the process. When they dispel the glamour they have that hempen camise's amount of the original armour piece.)
That's my take on the two options! I don't know if either of them really contradict any canon in-game explanations to the glamour system tbh. It's been so long since I picked up the intro quest and the only time I remember glamours being used as a plot device it was in the ARR Hildebrand quest line (I think the very end or within the coliseum arc, either way I'm not doing all that just to check and see that it says nothing of note)
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canisalbus · 9 months
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Does machete not like to be touched/not used to being touched?
I've noticed that whenever vasco touches him in your art, he's always has this grip, or an uncomfortable/suprised look.
I think he's just highly guarded and touch-averse, that's all. He has a history of being manhandled a bit as a child, nothing too extreme, just typical stuff you go though when you're a shrimpy and sensitive kid growing up under the care of a very harsh and volatile adult who doesn't realise how much stronger they are than you. As a priest he's expected to maintain an aura of solemnity and reverence so he just sort of lives in his own little bubble of personal space, which he's neurotically strict about. As it stands, most of the physical contact he gets comes from his doctors and personal physicians, and their treatments tend to be uncomfortable at best and degrading, invasive and painful at worst. So yes, neutral, let alone affectionate touch can be alarming and confusing if you're not used to it.
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Some ideas for Lunar Innovator and Shadow Courtier Wilson. I love the idea of those paths on his skill tree and the fact that you get more insight into things if you have them.
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sandersstudies · 5 months
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What is the symptom called when you’re very sick and your skin hurts.
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melonsap · 2 months
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Behold, the haunted one.
Design choices:
Skin tone: This is actually Smoke Tone rather than the default options for deep gnomes. I wanted them to look like a deep gnome going through it to most people, but uncanny valley to other deep gnomes because Bhaal made them not quite right. So this skin tone is less vibrant than a natural-born svirfneblin.
Hair color: Silvery gray, just a shade darker than normal with some dusty highlights. Same reason as skin tone.
Eyes: Obsidian 2, same reason as skin and hair, but this one sticks out the most; deep gnomes can have silver eyes, but can they have ones that look like you're blotting out the sun in them? I think not.
Hairstyle: You know, there are surprisingly few hairstyles that are both longer than chin length AND unkempt. Someone, at some point, is going to have to teach them how to comb it.
Eye Shadow: Helps with reducing glare on their poor Underdark-suited eyes.
Facepaint/tattoo: Guerrilla! Fits the whole shadowy murderer thing they've got going.
Earrings: You can't see them due to hairstyle, but Durge has Midnight Tears: IE, the bird skull earrings. They're hummingbird skulls that Durge killed themselves.
Scar: Got that one fresh from Orin just before lobotomy. Fun fact, if you cut someone across the bridge of the nose, it makes them violently ill!
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ghostinthegallery · 2 months
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“This isn’t the end” for Tarzyn/Orikan (bonus points for necrontyr era)
Next prompt request! CW for discussion of cancer/oncological stuff.
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The ink pot shattered when it hit the floor, spilling a pool of black across the stone tiles. Trazyn cursed, began reaching down to pick up the ceramic remains, but his long sleeve caught the edge of the paper on which he had been writing. That fell too, landing in the dark puddle. Ink saturated the page, erasing hours of calligraphic work.
”Damn it,” Trazyn swore. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
Most of his blasphemy was not towards the ruined page, although that was frustrating. No, primarily he cursed at his hand which refused to stop shaking. 
“It will only get worse, I am afraid,” the oncomancer had said. “Motor function will fail first.”
First, which implied something else had to fail second. Trazyn tried to forget the whole conversation as he grabbed a rag to clean his mess. It was well past midnight, so he could not summon a servant to deal with this. He had come to the palace’s library this late specifically for privacy. So that no one would see the difficulty he had holding a pen or a brush. He wanted to be able to take his time, wait out the tremors and maybe finish some of his work before he—
“Having some difficulty, old man?”
Trazyn’s heart sank. Of course if anyone had to see him like this, hunched on his knees, turquoise robes stained with black splotches it would be him.
”Orikan.” Trazyn sat up, tucked his hand into his sleeve to hide its quivering. “You’re up awfully late. Are the stars going to tell you about the weather next decan? Or perhaps some scion has asked to pick out their most auspicious marriage prospect? I hear you’ve become quite an adept matchmaker lately.”
Orikan’s brow wrinkled in annoyance, disturbing the single eye tattooed across his forehead. There were other such marks, cryptek nonsense, scrawled like tears down his cheeks, around his neck, and along his arms. Those were the only ones Trazyn had seen, though he imagined there were more, hidden under the white and blue robes draped loosely over Orikan’s frame.
”You lords are a petty sort,” Orikan said. “That I am forced to indulge you is a trial, but one well worth it given the benefits to my actual work. And at least I am not stuck copying old poetry like some temple scribe.”
Normally, Trazyn would have come up with some retort. Pointed out that he was in fact reproducing the last illustrated copy of the The Book of Sixes, the earliest recorded example of necrontyr poetry written in hexameter. And Orikan would have rolled his eyes and they would have argued until some other scholar came and shushed them, but tonight Trazyn could hardly summon the will to speak at all. 
“Perhaps it is a waste of time,” he said, looking at the ink-soaked page. “When one doesn’t even know how much time is left.”
“I see old age has made you melancholy,” Orikan scoffed.
Trazyn did not feel as if he had been alive enough to be called old. Just a handful of decades. How could that be considered old? The Old Ones, damn them, had lived millennia and more. They were old. Not him. 
He had outlived so many of his contemporaries and still it was not enough. 
“You will no doubt be thrilled to hear that barring unexpected circumstances you will be the victor in our rivalry,” Trazyn said. “I will not be able to defend myself from the tomb.”
“Stop raving.” Orikan walked past the shelves of datascrolls and paper manuscripts to stand over him. “I always did suspect the sun was taking your wits.”
”Not my wits just yet.” Trazyn lifted his hand and let the silk fall away to reveal his trembling fingers. 
Orikan’s eyes went wide. “What is this?”
“They say the sun attacks the limbs of the worker, the heart of the warrior, and the brain of a scholar..” Trazyn let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “The oncomancers say the larger turmor is growing against the nerve center governing voluntary muscle function. That will go first. Once I can barely move, my memory will likely desert me next, then speech, and then—”
“Stop.”
To Trazyn’s shock, Orikan dropped to his knees. He seized Trazyn’s quivering hand, tightening his grip until it was almost painful. Dark ink soaked the diviner’s white robe.
“Coward,” Orikan hissed. “You think you can escape our conflict so easily? A martyr, taken in his prime by sunsickness. How convenient for you.”
Despair shifted into anger. “I did not develop a brain tumor to spite you, astromancer,” Trazyn snapped. “Nor can I will it away.” His breath hitched. “I am going to die. I am going to die soon, with so much left unfinished.”
“You are not going to die.” Orikan leaned forward, dropped his voice so low Trazyn struggled to hear him. 
“Is that what the stars tell you?” Trazyn said. “I fear they’ve deceived you.”
“You are not going to die,” Orikan repeated. “None of us are.”
The scent of perfumed incense filled Trazyn’s nose. Orikan always smelled of incense and clean night air. It was one of the most irritating things about him. He was uncouth, uncultured, abrasive, spiteful. And brilliant. Tenacious. Beautiful. Half of the time Trazyn wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle him or—
“Orikan—” Trazyn began.
Orikan grabbed the beaded front of Trazyn’s robe and yanked him forward. Their lips crashed together. The kiss took him off guard, but he did not pull away, even as the force of it pressed painfully against his teeth. The warmth of Orikan’s mouth, the taste of him, drove out all other thoughts. For a brief second he forgot anger and despair and death.
”What do you mean,” he muttered against Orikan’s lips. “None of us will die?”
”The Silent King has a plan,” Orikan replied, wrapping his hand around Trazyn’s neck, deepening the next kiss. “He has found the power to take the secrets of immortality denied to us. He has asked me to read the plan’s future, but he is sure it will work. And when it does…” Orikan looked into Trazyn’s eyes, his gaze piercing and green. “This isn’t the end. Don’t you dare leave me or let that damned tumor take you because this is not the end.”
“Why Orikan,” Trazyn said. “I didn’t realize you cared.”
“I care about proving once and for all that you are a vainglorious fool.” Orikan huffed. “I cannot do that if you retreat into death.”
Trazyn pressed his hand against Orikan’s cheek, drew him back into another kiss. More gentle this time. 
“I’d best survive until then,” Trazyn said.
His knees hurt from being forced against the stone floor, but Trazyn did not care. There was always a little pain when it came to Orikan. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself without it.
It seemed too good to be true. An end to death, to suffering, all the time Trazyn could ever want. Alongside a rival who would ensure not a single moment of immortality was dull. He was not sure he believed it. Coming from anyone else he would have considered it madness. But this was Orikan. The stargazer was a fool in many ways, but in this moment, Trazyn believed him.
For the first time in years, Trazyn felt true hope. This would not be the end. Not of him. Not of his work. Not of the necrontyr. 
And, as Orikan dragged him up from the floor with a strength that belied his slender frame, Trazyn realized this was not the end of their night together either.
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marlynnofmany · 15 days
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May your day be full of joyous whimsy, and things made just because you can
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izanori · 1 year
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idk who needs to hear this, but if it hasnt already been done i want to clear up some things
Fashion Dreamer is not Style Savvy. BUT. It’s created by Syn Sophia, just like Style Savvy was. So, if you’re still holding out for a title that’s specifically called Style Savvy it’s time to give up, because it’s very safe to assume that Fashion Dreamer is meant to be Style Savvy’s spiritual successor. This may be due to influencers and other internet personalities being way more popular than wanting to run a store among children these days.
so… yea. ^_^
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wri0thesley · 9 months
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luocha aphrodisiacs. luocha somnophilia. luocha drugging. if u even care
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ghosts-gone · 10 months
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the Guys!!! dominion legs and viking are so special to me, so Naturally i had to dress them up like barbie dolls lmaoo
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demxnscous · 10 months
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dem.. modern au where you're in the same class as livio in college and you go over to his dorm for a project and you meet "asshole" big brother nico..
The absolute devious, most evil giggle that came from me as soon as I read this….
(I’m gonna make a minor change in that Nico has an apartment with Livio, with Nico being the main contributor for rent to help Livio focus on school)
See, you think he’s an asshole because he barely introduces himself when he comes home in the middle of your work session with Livio. He gives you mild acknowledgment, and that’s it. He’s already off to a different room, dropping his keys loudly on the counter and leaving.
When you ask Livio about it, he can only shrug. He can be a little cagey around people he doesn’t know, he tries to explain. He might’ve also had a bad day at work.
It’s not far from the truth, but it’s also not correct.
You start seeing less of the big, bad, scary brother. He makes himself scarce, and you wonder why Livio keeps bringing you here if his brother seems to be uncomfortable with it
He doesn’t mind, Livio tells you, he actually prefers us to work here, that way you don’t have to drive far to get back to your place.
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