Working on a graphic of DJ's deck for............reasons. It's slightly redesigned for...............................................reasons.
Probably gonna play around with the colors a bit more, it's possible still too purple (it was actually more purple before haha).
Incidentally if anyone knows what the extra dial from the last round actually does (other than making the gator gondola/racecar/van/car/whatever appear in the visualizer) I'd be interested to know. I couldn't find any tracks for it so idk if it's an effect? Or just nothing? But it's here for future-proofing REASONS.............
also don't mind dj he's doing his best it's not his fault he's like that it's mine
Good morning and welcome to Day 2 of THE LATEST LITERACY WALLCHART FOR CHILDREN Advent Calendar! Brought to you by I am in line at the Immigration Office right now and it is damp and slow.
I love this comparison and I feel intrinsically that it is accurate, and yet, despite having spent the last 7 or so years looking at this wallchart every single day (it lives in my bathroom), I still have never seen a tomato that made me think, “Huh! A lantern.” I do hope that someday I will. If you or someone you love has ever encountered the red tomato that looks like a lantern, pictures please!
“Of course I remember. I remember it all in perfect enumeration.”
It was written there, upon the bones that had been betrayed. Memories of victory, of heroism, of warriors in golden clad. Gods sharing their triumph, demigods that had walked the earth side by side by them. There had been glory, warm and golden and bladed, like the weight of living sunlight caught in a bottle. And then the blood mountain. Ararat.
You may call it mercy. A mercy blow, a knife through the heart. Peace. Relief. The last remedy for the clinically ill. But what of loyalty? Just what could be said of their loyalty? What could be said for those who served Him in the most ruthless of His incarnations, the warlord that conquered Terra beneath gold and hail? Those who gave their lives to Him, knowing they would end as rabid dogs beneath the fray. Knowing this path would break them, char them, leave nothing behind, and still choose to walk for their master.
What could be said of their loyalty? Is it not just as pure as those who had no choice but to obey? Those who had their brains rebuilt by His hand, those who could know nothing of loyalty for they never knew betrayal? What could they know about the violation of their bones, of their flesh, of knowing your body would eat itself alive in its hunger and still choosing to soldier on? When have they ever known pain, when their lord would not even afford them the luxury of fear?
Go on. Stand. How could one bear the weight of the bones upon the frost?
They were dying, the living dead. And they were afforded a glorious end, before their bones were buried beneath the frost.
“It was not my choice.” he rumbled softly, his voice as tenebrous as the shadows above the graves. His golden armor was immaculate, it's carvings as luxurious as the graves of kings, as was befitting the guardian of a god. “I obeyed…” It was for unity. It was for unity that they lowered the blade.
The hands of the dead stretch back, blackened beneath layers of soot, bony fingers holding coins of their betrayal like ash. There was pain there, deep and hollow and aching, pain for what was lost, what had been so utterly broken so long ago, for the price of obedience.
He obeyed. And paid the price.
It is written there, the price for ruling the world, written upon the bones that had been betrayed by the sun, exiled by the earth, buried beneath frost and bone. It is written here, by the hands that had betrayed them, upon the bones of the betrayed. It is written in the bones, the bones of Mt. Ararat.
every year we put an animatronic Santa in the window for Christmas and every year he makes kids cry because he’s horrifying. everyone give it up for creepy Santa