I really do love the fresh take on the dead wife aspect in scavengers reign like. She didn't die in some terrible accident or at the hands of an evil third party, she died because of you. Because of your ambition and carelessness and because you didn't prioritize her enough to even look for her as the ship was going down. You will carry this guilt for the rest of your life. She will haunt you forever. Pray that her ghost is enough to change you for the better.
ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)
i designed a sheikah outfit for josha like purah and robbie. they gifted it to her, but josha added the depths elements later because no one tells the president what to do.
i wanted to keep it in line with the modern sheikah's sense of style, with some allusions to their past ninja antics, hence the bandages and assassin's creed hood. all the better to slip out of lookout landing undetected. strict parents make sneaky kids, purah!
i know people are good because of this: the universe often assigns me side quests. in a circular strangeness; despite my inability to locate my-own-anything, i am almost-always finding someone else's lost things. dogs, coats, phones, cash, laptops. it happens so often it's almost tiring; suddenly being looped into a tiny amount of detective work.
but when i'm with other people who are not used to this: the response is almost invariably delight. yes, maybe they are simply thrilled by the mystery. it's just... they light up so much. i think maybe more... i think they like the opportunity to do something kind.
a few weeks ago, i was at a bar and i found a wallet as soon as we stepped outside. i felt nervous to ask for help, worried i would be holding up the night. i picked it up and said go on without me, i should help this get back to its home.
instead, three people pulled out their phones - to find him on facebook, to help cancel his credit cards. two people went back into the bar to tell the bartender, two others went calling down the street. group texts, facebook posts, instagram stories. people, without even seeing what happened, start offering help to me. fifteen minutes and: someone knows someone who knows the guy. the cheer that went up - just for finding him, just for this small thing. someone gets him on the phone. strangers dance around me, hopping on their feet - are you the girl that found that wallet? good for you, that's a good thing you're doing/same thing happened to me and somebody did what you're doing and i thank god everyday for people like you/i can't believe you found him so fast this is so exciting
i gave it back to him in a parking lot. i watched his shoulders sag with relief. there was cash in it still - he checked the pocket, and then sheepishly held the money out to me. i didn't take it. i held up my hands. "it's no problem, man. i know you'd do the same for me."
i don't know him, to be honest. i don't know if he is the same kind of person i am. but he nodded at me.
and i know people are good. i know people are good, because the way this story ends isn't surprising. we wave goodbye awkwardly. my friend loops their arm around me.
"i can't believe we got it back to him," they said. "i'm going to be riding that high for weeks."