wordsandrobots

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~I'm gonna keep on dancing~

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my gf said "what if haman had the master gundam's blankie mode" and i had to put it to pen

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Nobuyoshi Nishimura (others), Gundam Wing, 1995.

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Turn A Gundam (∀ガンダム)

An impressive Turn A Gundam double feature, illustrated by Black Lagoon anime character designer Masanori Shino (筱雅律), for the October 1999 issue of Newtype Magazine.

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Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

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It's not quite accurate to say I have 60,000 consecutive words on Akatsuki's Big Adventure now, given various vagueries of word-counts in different pieces of software, but it's close enough and I'm 10 chapters from the end now, so hey, milestone.

This is despite being hit out of nowhere with a nasty cold/flu thing this week that has left me quite shattered.

I do hope this is going to be fun to read when I'm done. I'm currently entering the 'shock reveal cavalcade' stretch of proceedings, which should be quite enjoyable to get sorted out (start a chapter with one reveal, end it on the left-field twist, then continue in this vein for a couple more). I do however need to solve the problem of how to have somebody stow away aboard a mobile suit in a relatively believable fashion. Such is life.

Here are some character descriptions by way of teasers, and the fact I have yet to find the will to do costume design sketches like I want.

------

They're too far to make out the details of their faces. She notes how they tense up, though, Lab Coat stepping forward and nodding to whoever's approaching, who she can't see from this angle until they've nearly reached the welcoming committee. Three more men, two in business sits, the sharper of the pair at the front, going to shake Lab Coat's hand, and someone in a more military-looking jacket, dark maroon, with black pants and heavy boots. He – or, actually, it's just the impression of the build that makes her think that – has a helmet that covers more of their head, leaving only the clean-shaven jaw and a hint of hair visible above the jacket's collar. A soldier's helmet, definitely. Surplus Gjallarhorn equipment? Steel silver, a cluster of sensor apertures on the front, otherwise smooth and blank.

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I don't know how much of an idea I'd formed of what she looked like under [her helmet]. Enough to be surprised. She's taller than me and with the harsh voice, I think I expected her to be older. Her black hair is cut close, although not so much she doesn't have to smooth it down. She has narrow, elegant eyebrows and a pointy nose, and her skin is a rich bronze tone that does nothing to hide the acne scars on her cheeks.

A perfectly normal-looking girl, maybe my age, maybe a year or two more.

“Got something on my face?” she asks, not quite smiling, not quite sneering.

------

Number Seven, meanwhile, looks like he's somebody's grandpa. Half-moon spectacles perched on his long nose, a neat black waistcoat, thin eyebrows under a lank grey fringe. Except, you can see the corded muscle exposed by his rolled-up shirtsleeves and the tattoos stretching down to the backs of his broad hands, and also the cable stretched from the roof to his spine, disappearing through custom-made gaps in his clothes. An Alaya-Vijnana system. Got to be. You can't help staring for a few seconds, unsure what to think. Have you ever seen one used outside of a cockpit? Why would anyone need to?

“Is that mask recording?” the man asks, snapping you out of it.

The woman asked the same thing. The bar-fly didn't. “Yeah.”

------

From one angle, everything about Jove is made up. His name, the inky black of his hair, his bright suits and neatly-pointed goatee, each as deliberately crafted as the Tournament itself. The fighters pretend, putting on an act in the ring, and Jove at the top puts on the biggest of all, selling them body and soul. He'll say whatever he needs to, do whatever he has to, to draw in the crowd's money.

But there's the trick. He makes himself up to chase a single goal, and that isn't hidden in the slightest. It's as naked as a wad of meria bills.

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We spend a few more minutes searching the supermarket for the makings of a decent meal. It's not badly stocked, overall. Everything you could hope for, far as nutrition goes. Oh, I am definitely being a snob. Mom'd be telling me off and Kudelia would be seriously disappointed. The people shopping here aren't going to have a say in what's on offer, are they? They'll be able to make the best of it, just the same as I hopefully can. Even those living off Mr Sunshine's Spectacular Savoury Sensations don't deserve some Martian punk looking down on them.

Also a smart man, looking up at his host and sole protector when he's astronomical units from home, wouldn't want to insult her by being a huge dick over her living conditions.

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You clocked them the moment they rose from their seats. Three people in military uniforms – in Gjallarhorn uniforms, or the remains of them. The sleeves have been cut off the men's olive green tunics and the badges on the front are gone, a blank space where the shield and seven stars was once displayed. The woman standing between them wears her officer's coat unbuttoned and without the belt, showing off the ruffled white blouse underneath and the big silver medallion hung around her neck. She's easily as tall as Jove and has a tumbling mass of curly brown hair, contrasting sharply with a complexion almost as pale as her shirt.

“Good morning.” Natural authority rings through her voice. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

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Should she stay locked inside Räum? Sit here, safely armoured, ready to go if everything nosedives.

Yeah. She knows that's a dumb idea even before Pinky's pilot floats over to beckon her out. So she pulls her jacket from the right-side storage compartment and digs in the left for mag-strips to fasten on the bottom of her boots.

“Jaén, was it?” The woman waiting outside is averagely tall, built broad and curvy enough for it to show from under her rose-coloured normal-suit. She's got a pile of dark, frizzy hair tied up on her head – and a smile pretty as a razor. “I'm Gabriela Turbine.”

Grunted acknowledgement is the safest response when Jaén's head is suddenly full of several competing kinds of warning bells.

------

(*points* Do you see the structural conceit this time around? Isn't it shiny??)

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"it's all in your head" correct! unfortunately I am also in there

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mcdonalds playplace

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Third round of screencaps from my liveblog of Gundam Wing

(Spoilers below)

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"a little sidetracked"

sure buddy

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“Why should rich people pay more” because fuck ‘em

“So you are okay for paying more when you have money” I am not excluded from ‘fuck ‘em’ when relevant

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@thedancingwalrus-blog

Anthropomorphic sculptures made of mud and algae, Homo Algus is a creation of Sophie Prestigiacomo.

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oof haven't painted portraits in years

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Tfw you’ve been in bed drawing Zechs Merquise so long that it got dark out and you didn’t notice til suddenly you were done ((o_o))

THE LIGHTNING COUNT. 
Milliardo Peacecraft. 
Captain Epaulettes. 
A snow-day ode to my childhood love of Gundam Wing. I even named my new iPad after his suit, so I could think of no better character to draw while continuing to test the limits of Mobile Battle Station Tallgeese ;D 
Drawn start to finish in Procreate (so yes, there’s video if you like!) 
Now I’m gonna, like, shower? Yeah. Hygiene.

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-I made a thing

-Holy shit I haven't touched video editing software since college

-This started as a rule-of-cool practice video that I wanted to make as a warm up for a bigger, more thematic project, then it ended up having a theme anyway! Inescapable.

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The text on Shino's recent card goes like "I kind of wonder why he named it Ryusei-Go, but I don't care enough to have to listen about it for an hour." 🤣

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Fan art チャド・チャダーン