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‘Steady’ - my favourite painting. Watercolour and acryla gouache.  Prints in bio

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Ko-fi Dooble

"Ulhga, Eldritch Snail Parasite (or Eldritch Parasitic Snail), the Great Spiral"

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fucked up wizard spell: Reduce to Atoms.

You reduce your target into nothing but atoms. The atoms are still in the shape of a living, breathing human being, but the target no longer has an immortal soul.

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today's bug things are these metal pill bugs by Matt Noris!

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𝖮𝗂𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗒 𝖨𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝖹̌𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖼́ ( 𝖻. 𝗂𝗇 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟫 𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗃𝖾𝗏𝗈)

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The Magic City (Arthur Skizhali-Weiss)

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snail collection. which one’s your fav? 🐌

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Cosmic Morphing Landscape.

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imagining a peaceful and healthy democracy that somehow maintains the appearance of a military dictatorship

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So y’all know the classic edge trope of “my blade cannot be sheathed until it has tasted blood”? What if a magic sword that has that requirement, except it’s sort of inverted. A sword that, instead of being inhabited by an evil spirit which once awakened cannot be lulled back to sleep except by blood sacrifice, was inhabited by a benevolent spirit who would not allow the sword to be drawn unless bloodshed were the only possible solution. A sword whose power could never be misused because it would only allow itself to be used in situations where it was justified. What about a Paladin who spends their entire journey fighting with a sheathed sword, incapacitating but never killing or maiming. The party believes that the Paladin has taken an oath of no killing, until they face the big villain. And it is in that moment, and that moment alone, that the sword will allow itself to be drawn.

Idk, this image set my mindwheels a-turning.

But do y’all see the vision?

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Cross-posting from @dawn-of-worlds which you should follow if you are into this sort of thing!

A Worm of Tremendous Appetite

Turn 1 Summary Tokhtamysh is a very hungry caterpillar and creates a teeming jungle. [Starting bonus: 5 + Dice: (1+5) - Shape land: 3 = 8]

When the meteoric interloper struck Akhu, the seismic shudders rippled through the world and through its pilot. As Kirrik rocked, her chitinous plates shook loose the smallest of mites, which dropped unceremoniously from bug-god, through sky, to land.

The mite skittered and scampered, fleeing from it knew not what to it knew not where on a world not yet born. Around it the detritus of the creator god was beginning to also make impact: other parasites, other symbionts, larger and more fierce, the flakes of divine essence shaken free from the greatest of beetles. The mite fled and fled and fled until it could flee no more.

At the place where fear gives way to exhaustion, death awaits all prey. By natual law the mite should have been devoured; but natural law is capricious - in the taking, yes, but sometimes, more rarely, in giving. At the place where the mite's might gave out happened to have fallen a tiny piece of the great Kirrik's raw creative power. As the certainty of the end closed upon it the mite did what all living things must do, the act as natural as dying: it ate.

You are what you eat, as they say.

The divine power infused the mite. Its soul (for It found It now had such a thing) sang with the holy song of godhood. The fear of death gave way to the ferocity of life. Casting Its senses about the mite fell upon a nearby creature, former predator becoming surprised prey. Again and again the mite ate and ate, taking in the forms and essences of Its meals, growing larger and fiercer and more monstrous until it fell upon even one of the great Primordial Beasts; as It tore the flesh from the bones of the greatest of creatures the mite's divinity fully erupted.

Turning back upon the path of carnage It had wrought, Tokhtamysh declared, "This shall be my path, and the path of all who would follow after me in hunger!" From the remains of Its prey sprang new life in abundance, plants feeding prey feeding predators, teeming and feeding and striving.

And so it is to this day in the great jungle where Tokhtamysh was born.

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I loved David's latest suit 🥰

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Cosmic Creature by Ivan Palma

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I stumbled across a photo (by Lindy Pollard) that fantastically mirrors a little dragon I drew a few years ago…. I can’t get over this…