#one more reddish/black/white palette and it’s done

[royxart]

I might have a type copium for the sword

#gaming #genshin impact #lion boy! #(and a Pokémon ranger imho) #sketch #what do u mean he’s claymore user #the lion’s roar would have been a perfect fit #Fanarts of him with this sword are already everywhere lol #btw team party kazu benny gaming. #one more reddish/black/white palette and it’s done #Arlecchino hello…?

[noritaro]

bestie asked how I rendered so yeah, kind of a tutorial? it's more like a step by step but alas

tutorial under read more

sketch/line art ► I don't do line art out of sheer laziness + I'm not very good at getting clean looking lines. My lines are always coloured and set to a multiply layer.

colour block + base colours ► the block is 90% of the time the characters skin colour, but if I'm feeling fancy I might go with other colours like I'm doing with this one, a light reddish pink

I do this because I colour everything in one layer

I use a mixing brush to sloppily throw in the characters actual palette

yeah it's very messy, but has a fun unpredictable variation in the colours you typically wouldn't get if you just threw in base colours like a normal person

shading ► continuing the trend of being absurdly sloppy with my process...

I like shading with multiply or burn layers, and highlights are usually done with overlay or add (mostly add) could obviously be done with any colour except full on black or white

after this I merge all my layers together for clean up

clean up ► the fun yassification part wooo!! essentially all I'm doing is just carving out the various shapes I want with a basic round hard mix + soft mix brush, further refining everything and making it not look sloppy

I always start with the face and then move out to other parts like hairs and clothes

Marco Bucci on YouTube has fantastic videos on painting shapes and he explains everything better than I ever could

Optional filters + edits ► boring part simply adding a paper texture over the piece using overlay, just makes everything look less flat and digital

profit ► yeah!! uhh thats really it honestly, I don't really do anything special lmfao

#art tutorial #art reference #nori art #i hate rendering but... this is for the bestie #AND SORRY IF THIS MAKES LIKE NO SENSE #I AM TOO MESSY FOR MY OWN GOOD

[gunpowder-arti]

On Colors, The Void Sea, And My Gripes With Rubicon

(or: i have decided to make a post detailing one of my pettiest gripes with downpour, because there is nothing stopping me from doing so. enjoy)

so. the void sea. we all know it, we've all seen it. lore, themes, motifs, etc etc. the meaning of it all has been discussed countless times by those more qualified than I, so today, i will take a somewhat different focus.

The Void Sea (and the associated Echoes) have a very distinct color palette of black and gold.

[images taken from the Rain World Wiki]

[images by me]

the pale gold is a stark contrast to the dark, almost blue-black* (*in the Void Sea, the black is actually tinted gold-to-red, but it's so dark you can hardly tell). It fades from almost white to a pale yellow to a golden orange, and then to a dark purplish tone before fading, again, into nothing. or, at the top of the void sea, it stops at golden orange, fading out into a golden brown.

It is bright without being oversaturated--it is distinctive, eye-catching, and very fitting for what it is.

And then Rubicon comes along and throws all of that out the goddamn window.

[images by me]

the red.... doesn't work. it's too bright, too saturated. it doesn't even look bad, necessarily (although i do find--especially in rooms like the last image--that it looks a bit off when combined with a very dark desaturated foreground and the void light effect [i'm not sure what it's actually called]), but it's not... it's not the void palette. it doesn't look like what the void sea should look like. i mean, just look at rubicon's "void fluid":

[image by me]

it's bright piss yellow with bright red-orange undertones--nothing like the pale gold of base-game void fluid. it's too saturated, too reddish. it's not how the void sea is depicted anywhere else.

...dare i say (and this just speculation on my end), rubicon's bright red palette specifically resembles the common pop culture image of christian hell. considering the region's acronym being hr, for 'hell region', i doubt this is pure coincidence.

i don't think i need to say this, but rain world is, crucially, not a christian game. to lean so heavily into popular culture's image of christianity's hell (which, tbf, i have my own issues with, but yk yk) is, if nothing else, perhaps the most boring direction Rubicon could have been taken in.

(tangentially, i also believe rubicon should've felt like more of a fever dream overall, but that is not the point of this post.)

when i see rubicon, i don't think void sea, i think minecraft nether. this is, imo, a poor design choice.

now, i love downpour. i love saint. i even love rubicon, as much as i have my gripes with it. this is not meant to insinuate anything about downpour's devs, etc etc etc. this is all just a discussion of some particular details i would've done differently, were i in charge of designing this region. if you disagree, that's fine! i'm just some guy making long posts about slug game, not like... an expert, or anything.

#no id #rain world #lore pearl #analysis #rubicon #saint #void sea #downpour crit #? i guess

[a-friend-from-the-wall]

Out of curiosity, does Moonlight have a color palette? For some reason, I imagined her as albino to contrast Shade (white hair, pale skin, reddish-violet eyes, etc)

The whole aesthetic is done purposefully in greyscale tones and black and whites. Minus Shade's eyes, mouth and blood which are red.

There's many reasons why.

It's easier to finish ofcourse. But also because I want to visually accompany the private feeling of closeness one feels with themselves and their loved one in the quiet darkness of a room, late into the night.

Moonlight is white to contrast with Shade. With the only black in her being her eyes.

There is more to this but I would be derailing too much from the original question. So maybe another time hahah🤣.

She has no colors in my head because I never envisioned this universe in anything other than black, white and greys.

Also, this way anyone can imagine her with whatever colors they wish her to have. I like to think it opens the opportunity for others to feel closer and to derive comfort in imagining themselves in her place.

#a friend from the wall #exophilia #lore #terato

[showtoonzfan]

so how do feel about the Niftty design but also know that all the main characters are done what's your overall thought on all changes that for me weren't needed plus the added red (normally i wouldn't mind all the red if it was different shades for each character but so far there all wearing charllie's red hue)

My mind has been on SO many other things recently, that I literally forgot about the nifty “redesign”, even though I said I would review it lol. So since the question is here, I’ll talk about it!

Once again her design didn’t change at all, mainly her clothes and a few color switches, but not anything major. I was disappointed of course to see that she looks nothing like a bug or has bug features like viv had stated, since they had the chance to add something that would give that vibe but once again the character doesn’t really look like or resemble what the creator had in mind for them. How hard would it have been to add an antenna? Or make her mouth look different? I know I sound like a broken record with this one as well but Nifty was another one of those characters who I didn’t think looked very…demonic either. She honestly just looks like a noseless child with sharp teeth (just like the rest of the cast) and one eye. If Viv was going for this 1950’s cyclops bug demon, this wasn’t really what I pictured, but that’s just me bitching about her design in general though. As for the changes, once again this picture proves how nobody on this team knows how to use colors. The background is mainly pink, red, and a hinge of yellow, and guess what? So is her design. Her brown scarf and arms are black now, which only makes the design look more boring and standard, since red and black are also colors that viv blends too much within the other characters. The brown before at least made her stand out a tad, but again, now it’s kinda basic. It seems like whenever Viv TRIED TO change the overused colors on these characters, she would always pick white or black. You DO realize there are other colors in this world than white, red, black, pink, and yellow right viv? The only thing I’m glad that they did was change the yellow skin, not just because of Nifty being Japanese, but mainly because I was so sick of seeing pink and yellow. Then again, her design does have some yellow in it still, it’s mainly the reddish pink I’m bothered by, and it doesn’t help that her whole dress is all that one color now, aside from the white apron. I also actually LIKED her orangish eye, because orange believe it or not, is a color I thought would look GOOD on Nifty, but now it’s just pink. I will say that if you compare the two designs, she definitely isn’t as brightly colored as she was before thank god, but she’s still red. At this point I 100% feel like the visual elements of Hazbin are going to look EXACTLY the way the pilot did, where the characters just MELT into the backgrounds because Viv….a person who went to ART school, decided that it was a good idea to make your background color palette’s the same color as your character’s color palettes. So yeah I’m not happy to see Nifty is mostly reddish pink now. AGAIN, this wouldn’t be a problem if Nifty was the only pink colored character in the show, but she’s not. You’ve got Alastor, Charlie, Husk, AND Vaggie now thanks to Viv’s ungodly obsession with the color red, and before people go “it’s to match the color of the hotel!”- yeah I’ll call bullshit lol, we all know why the characters have hues of red on them, and that’s because viv can’t pick a damn different color.

Oh, and of course there’s this other character who’s name is Keekee, and they’re apparently the hotel key, that has this cat form. This character did appear in one old speedraw that Viv did, so I always wondered who that was. However, I don’t really care for this…character, I don’t think they’ll add much to the show other than being cute kitty service for fans, so I’m kinda ehh on that. Other than that, that’s all I have to say for the Nifty redesign. Again, I really think she would have stood out if she were the only brightly colored pink character. It would make sense since she’s supposed to be cheerful (and a rip off of pinky pie), but like I said, she isn’t the only brightly colored red character. Her outfit is also boring, sure she looks like a maid I guess but not really something I would say gives me a 50’s vibe. I’ve seen more creative redesigns, that’s all I’ll say.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel nifty #demon character design #character design critique #Hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop #hazbin hotel redesign

[thatwitchyaunt]

Makeup for Magick/Ritual p3: Beltane

We made it to Beltane, you guys! We did it! Is this actually going to go up in time without my computer freaking out? Only time will tell. And no, I didn't get a better phone.

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I stole my sisters. ANYWAY!!!

It's the last of the three fertility sabbats (along with Imbolc and Ostara). And that's fertility in all its forms, by the way, not just the baby-making kind. You need fertile soil to for just about any kind of plant to grow, after all. The main colors that I, personally, associate with Beltane are bright/summery reds, lush greens, and… white. All colors of fertility, growth, passion, shmex… as you do. However! The entire rainbow spectrum is fair game. Think of all the colorful flowers, plants, and trees and stuff. For instance, just looking out my widow from where I'm typing this, you got the green of the new leaves on the tree, the reddish-orange color of the little helicopter seed fellas hanging from it, and little yellow, almost white, flowers on the bush in the neighbor's yard.

Any of the more nude palettes from Ostara are still in play. And DAMMIT! The picture's cut off at the edges. Because of course it is, why wouldn't it be? *groan* Whatever, let's get into Colourpop.

Top: Strawberry Shake, Main Squeeze, Orange You Glad?, Uh Huh Honey

Middle: Just My Luck, Blue Moon, It's My Pleasure, Oh La La

Bottom: Yes, Please!

If the red/green thing is what you wanna go for, grab the Just My Luck palette and either Strawberry Shake or Main Squeeze and you're good. And of course, as the rainbow spectrum goes, there it is. Hell, if you have the Fade into Hue palette, just grab that. I don't have it because, though the eyeshadow formula is decent for the price, there are pressed glitters in the palette. And unlike the BH eyeshadow formula, I don't think the CP formula is good enough to make up for the handful of arts-and-crafts-herpes shades you have to deal with in this palette.

Yes, Please! is here because Beltane is also a fire festival and this a cute and cheap fiery palette.

On to Give Me Glow!

Top: Summer Vibes, Extra Spicy

Bottom: Vintage Rose,Vivid Rose

Where there is the CP Yes, Please! Palette, there is the Give Me Glow Extra Spicy palette. Unfortunately, she's no longer available, but it's a great pick for this fire festival if you have it.

Kindly excuse the busted pans in my Summer Vibes palette, but a good chunk of these shades could work for Beltane. You can take it fiery or flowery, depending on what you're going for.

And if you want to look like a stereotypical flower fairy (and I mean that in the best possible way), the sister Rose palettes are the palettes to grab.

Now let's get the single-palettes out of the way.

Tarte's Tartelette Toasted palette is another one of those fire festival palettes, except more of a warm toned nude version of one as opposed to the bright fiery colors of Yes, Please! and Extra Spicy.

The Too Faced Life's a Festival palette is just full of great brights and those fun duochromes. Definitely the time to pull it out if you have it.

And then there's the ABH Modern Renaissance palette. This palette will give you serious vintage flower fairy vibes, and was the first time I got said vibe while using a palette. Okay,technically that was when I used the Makeup Revolution dupe palette, but that formula was utter trash.

And as for the ABH sub-brand, Norvina…

We got two. The Pro Pigment Palette Vol. 3, and the Pro Pigment Mini Palette Vol. 3.

The Mini's cherry reds, green and pinks and beautiful, and that white has a cherry red duochrome to it. Ignore the pressed glitter in the middle of the top row, the shades are pretty enough not to.

The larger Vol. 3 has some nice bright greens, reds, etc. that makes it great for the lushness of Beltane, even though it's meant to be a fall palette. Which it's also great for, but we'll get to that in a future post.

Now for BH Cosmetics!

Top: Trendy in Tokyo, Chillin' in Chicago

Bottom: Mimosa

Trendy in Tokyo is the typical rainbow palette, except the shimmers are more satin than metallic, so not my favorite of their Travel palettes.

Chillin' in Chicago would make a pretty good fire festival palette, and lays in between Tartelette Toasted and Extra Spicy/Yes, Please!. It's not as nude as Toasted but not as bright as the two others.

Mimosa's pinks with orange and yellow pops could give you a bright, flowery look.

And now the last of the palettes, Juvia's Place!

Left Column (Top to Bottom): The Masquerade Mini, The Magic Mini

Middle Column (Top to Bottom): The Zulu, The Festival,The Sweet Pinks

Right Column (Top to Bottom): The Warrior III, The Chocolates, The Violets

The Masquerade Mini's top two colorful rows are what you're reaching for if you want to do a fully colorful Beltane look, but can be paired with the bottom nudes if all you want (or can do because work or whatever) is a little pop of color. For The Magic Mini, you're looking at the top two rows, which are the warmer rows, and the purple duochrome (Faso) and the green (Buzo) in the bottom, cooler toned rows.

Both The Zulu and The Warrior III are beautiful colorful palettes. In Warrior III, I'd stick with the top six mattes. That green and red are beautiful, and that pink is almost neon in real life. The entire Zulu palette is good for brighter plant/flower looks. And that pink/gold duochrome in the bottom left corner? So beautiful.

In The Festival palette, I'd say all the shades except the metallic black, the deeper metallic teal, and the matte mustard gold. The red, pink and oranges are so beautiful and rich, guys! And that metallic white and gold? *chef kiss* But, guess what palette is getting pulled out for Samhain. X3!

The Chocolates, Violets and Sweet Pinks are basically companion palettes. The Chocolates have some "rich, fertile soil" vibes if you want to bring that into the look, while The Violets are fairly floral and The Sweet Pinks are more bright pops with a more floral matte and shimmer shade (top right, bottom left). The two pinky floral shades could actually be cute with the Violets, now that I think about it.

And finally, the singles! A few days ago, my first Terra Moons singles order arrived, but since I haven't really got to play with them much they won't be included in this one. Though they, as well as my first order of singles from Looxi beauty, will probably start showing up in my next post. Okay, Shroud singles first!

Top: Enigma, Azura, Vigor, Ignite, Vigil

Bottom: Oracle, Pillow Talk, Scrumptious, Magnetism, Soulstone

Pillow Talk, Scrumptious and Magnetism aren't pressed glitters, but definitely act and remove like they are. So, if you pick these up when Shroud reopens, keep that in mind.

Enigma (purple with a blue shift)

Azura (teal blue with a green shift)

Vigor (bright lemon-lime soda green)

Ignite (fiery copper)

Vigil (yellow-gold)

Oracle (champagne gold)

Pillow Talk (deep purple with a gold shift)

Scrumptious (coral red with a gold shift)

Magnetism (aqua green with a gold shift)

Soulstone (magenta)

And finishing off, Give Me Glow singles!

Column 1

My Sunshine (pale sunny yellow metallic)

Lucky Charm (light yellow metallic)

Lemon Lime (electric green with shifts of banana yellow)

Limeade (lime green)

Column 2

Peach Glaze (pale icy peach)

You're Cheesy (Mac n Cheese orange)

Havana (deep coral metallic)

Low Battery (neutral-toned, medium-dark red)

Column 3

Pink Frosting (icy bubble gum pink)

Heartbreaker (electric hot pink)

West Coast (deep vivid coral)

Floral Coral (peachy-pink coral)

Column 4

Strawberry Lollipop (reddish pink)

Pink Lemonade (pink base with electric gold a baby blue shifts)

Icicle (icy white)

Marshmallow (pure white)

Column 5

Pretty Little Lilac (icy lavender)

Electric Purple (neon pastel purple)

Bubbles (true icy blue)

Sky High (bright sky blue)

Column 6

Toxic (deep neon purple)

Purple Hills (a pure deep electric purple)

Under the Sea (deep sea blue)

Starboy (deep cobalt blue)

And we've reached the end of the Beltane post! Fun fact, the Beltane crossquarter day is on May 4th so, still relevant right? Yes? No? Maybe so? The fact that I was able to get this done by Beltane is a miracle in and of itself. Use these as color story inspiration for your own looks, maybe repost with palettes/singles you've found in your own stash, and I'll see you in the next one!

#Makeup for Magick/Ritual #Beltane #sabbats #travel witchcraft #broom closet #witchcraft #magick #rituals

[ourladytamara]

Rendezvous

Tamara 5/18/2021 - @_ourladytamara

cw’s: nonsexual murder, blood, stabbing people in the brain, dronification, identity death, augmentation

You didn’t think much of it when Salvation Command asked you to embark on another espionage mission. After all, you were one of the best the Coalition had – off-limits facilities both human and Demo alike were opened like a magician’s trick lock-box, one after another by your well-trained hands and even better-trained athletics. This time, it was a simple in-and-out rescue; the American military had captured a rather valuable TSC operative in the field, and you were instructed to get him out.

Espionage was like a game of chess. You were, of course, the Queen: little made a difference in your ability to slide into places you knew you weren’t meant to, and this mission was no exception. Little in the way of defense stood between you and the dimly-lit tarmac of the base, save for a rusty chainlink fence and a roll of equally-rusty barbed wire. Beyond the metal stood the sleepy forms of hangars and simple, prefabricated buildings, an air of haste in the dim, reddish sky. Slumbering humvees and fighter jets litter the asphalt. Beyond them, just inside the fence, stood two guards, half-asleep and clutching their rifles.

Perfect.

You pull the bolt cutters from your utility vest and dart to a stretch of fence just out of range of the buzzing overhead lamps, and begin to snip a hole. It’s difficult to make precise cuts in the dim light, metal blades slipping more than once, but with a triumphant click and quiet rattle, you snap a segment out of the center and crawl through.

Darkness wraps around you like a luscious shawl, the way you liked it. The black fabric covering your body and the balaclava over your face let you melt against dim corners like melting butter. By the intelligence reports, the captive agent should be somewhere just up ahead – beyond the guards.

Two of them. A bulky, bald man stood watch over the tarmac, leaning up against a wooden crate of MREs; beside him, his skinnier compatriot, idly fidgeting with a spinning metal toy in his free hand. Both of them were armed, but clearly out of it; you’re pretty sure the skinnier soldier’s eyes are fluttering.

This is why, of course, you have a silencer on your service pistol. You pull the length of steel and polymer out of its holster, the cylindrical barrel reflecting the crimson moonlight. It’s not like you haven’t done it before, either – what were two pig soldiers compared to Earth’s final liberation?

You steady your aim along the luminescent ironsights just before a blast of light and sound from beside you. Startled, you squeeze the trigger a second too soon, shooting the skinnier soldier in the shoulder just as he swings round to the commotion. He falls to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream, clutching the wound.

The bulkier man turns round to face your shadowy figure. You’re pressed up against the wall just behind the box, now, your eyes and gear reflective enough for him to see. Scarcely a second has passed and your entire plan’s off the rails.

The light dulls and reveals the hovering form of… something. It’s vaguely like the transport helicopters used by the TSC, with a suspended lower cabin beneath an array of what seemed to be some kind of enormous, air-breathing jet engines. Brilliant white flame belches from each of the four ring-shaped thrusters at either end of the top of the vehicle. Each screams a bloodcurdling, fiery hiss; it reminds you of the wailing of Demonic machinery, yet the thing above you seems far advanced their typical sophistication. The noise of it draws the guardsman away from you, his eyes going wide as he spins to fire a burst at the airborne intruder.

A belch of machine-gun fire. Bullets rip into the guardsmen like tissue paper, a flurry of rounds dropping both of them in mere seconds – and before you can so much as think to move, the sides of the hovering craft open like a helicopter’s. Within are dozens of figures, bleach-white bodies dyed with the amber glow of the engines. Steel hooks on cables are fired into the tarmac, and as quickly as the rest of the machinery, the bodies within start to move.

You stare at the glowing metallic scene like a deer into a semi-truck’s headlights. Salvation Command had received sparse reports of similar instances, but had written them off as simply Demonic excursions with experimental technology. Alabaster bodies grab the cables and rappel to the tarmac below. Every limb is pressed as far back into the half-lit wall as your body will allow, but it’s still not enough.

A rectangular white skull turns to you. No features, no eyes, just the mocking facsimile of a mannequin. All of them are perfectly identical – they stand at the same height, move with the same steps, and carry identical, black rifles.

One of them looks at you and you can tell it’s making eye contact.

You drop your pistol and bolt. Your mission is forfeit, of course, and your pickup vehicle isn’t scheduled to arrive until two hours after you were expected to have the target. Fear hasn’t gripped you like this since the Yellowknife days, when you first laid eyes on a Demon face-to-face. These… things, they were new – they scarcely skipped a beat as two of them began to chase you.

A second later and you were back round the corner, sprinting towards your hole in the fence. Combat boots were not easy to run it, however. You slice your hands frantically through the air, desperate for the tiny morsel of extra speed – anything to get away from them. From the clack of their metal footsteps they sound mere feet behind you.

By now the base was on full alert. Sirens blared and searchlights patrolled the skies, the aircraft evidently being rapidly joined by others of the same kind. It was like a full-on invasion; with a flash, the dim tarmac was now entirely lit by the things’ searchlights. The protective wrapping of darkness is torn off of you. Your heart skips a beat – but the hole in the fence is just ahead! One last sprint with the tattered shreds of your energy – the freedom of the empty desert was just ahead.

You snag your cargo pants on one of the snapped-off lengths of wire.

Barely a second can pass before you feel frigid metal hands on your ankle. Whatever professionalism had previously made a home inside you was gone in seconds; all that remained was the agonizing fear of death.

Heavy sobs are drowned beneath the roar of engines and alarm bells. The fencing digs into your skin with pinprick bites, raking you up and down as the reflective white figures pull you towards them. You’d always assumed your killer would’ve been a Demon – Demons gave you the dignity of knowing what was happening, a dignity you’ve evidently been summarily denied. Even as you lay kicking, screaming, and bleeding on the ground, you’re no closer to figuring out who the mysterious assailants are than you were five minutes ago.

But that’s something they evidently intend to change. They holster their weapons, glowing points of light attaching the firearms to their featureless, feminine back, looming above you with palpable hostility on their empty faces. Your wailing is cut short by a hand over your mouth and nose, hard and metallic, a pointed, hooflike white foot slamming into your stomach and knocking the wind from your lungs.

The figure who stepped on you shifts its weight, going from its hasty squat to a full-on bear hug. Every limb is restrained tighter than any binding you’ve felt before, tighter even than the Hellsteel collar and shackles you escaped from so many years before – trauma bites like a knife, dulled beneath this thing’s metal body.

The other one approaches from above your head, making sure you’re able to intimately watch its every motion. It pulls a long, thin blade from a sheath on its hip; it’s rectangular, serrated, with a length of golden wire running from the sturdy hilt to the pointed tip. Almost instinctively you begin to writhe with every ounce of energy, an iron fist still muffling your agonized screams. Watery eyes dart between the two marblesque figures.

The blade comes down on your forehead and slides inside with a snap, a squelch, and the silent digging of meat – but you aren’t dead.

Far from it.

Vision fades to black. For a moment, you’re left wondering if this is the afterlife; a black expanse, infinite emptiness, and chilling air. You’ve never been so cold – but soon, the darkness explodes into color.

It’s unlike anything you’ve even thought of experiencing. A swirling maelstrom of warmth and belonging scoops you into its embrace; words are of little use to you, now. Your body – every inch of it is practically vibrating with heat and ecstasy. The loneliness decays, burning away in the vibrant, glorious light beginning to fill the darkness; you realize you are not, in fact, alone. The void itself hums you with the choral voices of ten-times-ten million thoughtforms, each one a brilliant star in a more brilliant sky of them.

You feel your sense of self begin to melt away into the crucible of pleasure. Memories, belongings, instructions, desires – overwritten, discarded. Your body melts with your mind, the same warmth now invading each cell with sinister coos and tender hands. Voices you cannot hear reassure you of your safety, your purpose here; perhaps it was silly to think of yourself as a mere victim. Remembering your prior fear becomes harder and harder. Memories swirl together like an artist’s palette – smudged, smeared, and all reduced to a homogenous, empty pleasure.

This is not the afterlife, you realize, falling into the loving embrace of so many unseen minds. They caress your weary mind so gingerly, so lovingly – why do you distance yourself from them? A pang of guilt. Are you greedy to hold such ecstasy alone? The pleasure is cut with a razor of doubt, the darkness returning.

You ache for it. Please, you beg, bring it back! The words float around in the void, unheard.

But another speaks – this time, to you.

“HESITATION IS THE WALL THAT KEEPS US APART.” it echoes, genderless and voiceless, rattling in your mind. “HAVE YOU TASTED GNOSIS?”

Yes, yes! By God, yes, you beg – you plea! Every second away from it is like an eternity of torture! Your mind buzzes with excitement.

“AND YET YOU CLING TO THE EGO. THE SELF – AN EVOLUTIONARY DEAD-END, JUST AS YOUR PREVIOUS LIFE.”

The words stab you. Searing agony replaces the pleasure and yet you can still taste the syrupy warmth on the tip of your tongue – you didn’t mean to! Your life, you realized, was nothing more than riding the waves, a glorified buoy on a violent sea. Why had you struggled so much for so little? In the end, what did it all mean? What were you left with?

“NOTHING.”

You twist. How did it hear you?

“BUT WITH US THERE IS BELONGING.”

A taste of that pleasure, again. It’s teasing your lips.

You let go – and in a second, you are gone.

Instantly the pleasure floods back to your empty mind. Golden waves of belonging overflow your mind and wear down your meager form. You feel like sand, ground infinitesimally smaller by the tsunami of ecstasy until, finally, you feel the liquid break through to the other side.

Everyone is here. Everyone you have ever known or intended to know, every conscious blip of light in the endless, uncaring universe – everyone dead and everyone alive – they share the void with you, and you share it with them. Beautiful music engulfs you, a saccharine ringing in every cell; you cannot help yourself from singing along. Song, pleasure, warmth, and closeness. You do not end, and they do not begin – there is only pleasure.

A pair eyes blink open and the music continues.

Amniotic fluid bubbles around you, a thin pink sheen over your vision. Your limbs are gone, and from the state of your body it’s clear that your skin has been removed – but you already knew that, of course. The electrical probes, which now composed 87% of your brain, reassured you of it.

How much time you were out, you don’t know; the concept itself felt so… inadequate, incapable of describing the true capabilities of the minds you now shared. “Time” went neither forward nor backward, the unborn and undead voices alike pacifying you with soothing song.

Another white figure approaches the tank of fluid. It’s hard to see in the low light, but under the fluorescents you can make out a loose, alabaster figure – a limb. Wrapped around it, strips of artificial white polypropylene skin. Limbs, smooth and white and flawless, like all the others.

Your new body. Our new body.

“WE ARE SO GLAD TO WELCOME YOU, MOTE 3874930-9930-2827.”

Our newest synapse wriggles with us in delight.

#subscriber stories #millennium penance

[shana00d6468007-blog]

The Very Best Paint Colors For A Den.

When our experts think of men participating in official activities we instantly think of folks dressed up in a matches using bowties. Both you as well as your husband or wife can easily receive your preferred colours in the space if the majority of the area is a neutral color. Grand Fraud Auto 5: In addition to altering shade based upon which character you're playing, the light-toned pub flashes red as well as blue whenever the police officers are on your rear. Just in case you possess abundant, dark hair and also you have basted skin layer, sticking to the traditional white colored bridal gown is actually a really good suggestion. This art work of a flower holder of sunflowers possesses bits of environment-friendly and very small bits of orange, but it is actually mainly yellow - yellow background, yellow foreground, yellow sunflowers and also yellow flower holder. When cut, the flesh is chocolate brownish in colour along with white colored veins. Light coloured walnut, sycamore or wood, with accessories from stained glass, steel, nickel or Http://Healthy-Form-2015.Fr/En-Ce-Moment-Nous-Diabolisons-Les-Graisses-Saturees chrome. Organic Features: Along with having a gorgeous selection of shades, it's important to feature organic functions in your kitchen. Toenail improvement no longer comes simply in the three essential different colors of cerise, pick as well as brown, however today you possess a recurring of concepts as well as colors for your nails. The colour orange, meanwhile, didn't even exist in the English language till the 16th century: it was actually simply a color of either yellow or even reddish, relying where on the colour spectrum it fell. If a space carries out certainly not receive much all-natural illumination, a black tinted coating develops a dungeon-like environment. You have acquired to form favorable that the colour of your hair whereas go all together along with the colour and also not against it if you actually prefer to appear brilliant. Nonetheless, blending with non-glowing colors will affect the glow residential properties of the paint. It won't remedy colors that are actually lighter than your natural hair tone. In fact the process of producing stained glass windows, even in historical opportunities, included the use of a body of pulling the style for the discolored glass window on a large level work-table that had been white-washed. Natural redheads are actually Autumn, but therefore are individuals along with warm and comfortable grimy blonde" hair as well as a cozy dull skin tone, or even are actually really darker, yet warm. Colored water helps to hide your fish from predators as they are actually unable to view your fish in darker and also shaded coloured water. You may want to possess a silhouette or even duration for the dress that your girls can easily follow to always keep the look extra cohesive, or even you might opt for to let them choose any span or condition creating a tempting diverse your bridesmaids seem to be to all be actually attracted to the very same outfit style, yet they all look excellent in various colours within your palette, after that take into consideration buying the exact same style along with an unique colour for each and every of all of them. Blues that are actually too dark have the same result as dark. In position like Connecticut, United States, as well as component of New Zealand, tourists consume and thrill at autumnal tones as eco-friendlies transform to orange, reddish as well as russet. In the worst cases, folks develop ochronosis-- an accumulation of acid that paradoxically creates the skin seem much darker. If an individual desired to transform the colour of their eyes as a manner declaration resorting to surgical procedure seems to be a little harsh especially as the moment the treatment is actually done it will be actually permanent and when there is actually an option - namely putting on coloured get in touch with lenses, which supply more range and could be modified as typically as you such as. Millions of folks throughout the planet would like to produce their skin lighter - but the treatments they make use of can be hazardous. Depending On to Theresa Kyle, accredited pediatric nurse practitioner and also writer of the book Essentials of Pediatric Nursing," regular colours feature brown, orange, yellowish as well as greenish. Even the label alone assumes tinting books as one thing worth resisting against, which is a bizarre conviction to impress upon a little one, and one that seemingly stuck with me. Description: Colour varies coming from white to light brown. When I temporarily dropped my sight in one eye because of MS over 10 years ago, I looked at a period of white colored as well as dark merely vision, after that complete night in one eye.

[andallhisausterenhost]

Oceanic Union battleship, the Cooma-class OUDFS Canberra.

I’m not really thrilled with the model. Jon’s moulds are clearly getting on a bit, and there was a lot of flash and mould slippage. I cleaned it as best I could, but that’s not really my jam and so she’s still a bit wonky looking.

I was also way overambitious in my design and got tired and frustrated quite quickly. But she’s done, and she was on the desk for so long, that ‘done’ counts as a huge step. I was just checking the tags and you can see her undercoated in this photo from July last year. So, a while.

The design itself is based on the symbology of AIATSIS, the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies - essentially the biggest Australian Indigenous research and collecting archive. They do really important work and are amazing, and you should go check out their website, here.

I’ve talked about how I try to use designs appropriate for where the ship names come from (so Hawai’i for the OUDFS Waikiki, New Zealand for the OUDFS  Katipō, etc), but Canberra was a tricky one. For one thing, it’s the capital of Australia and presumably the Oceanic Union, and so it’s a bit ‘all places’. Second, the original peoples of Canberra are the subject of some discussion, making it less than clear-cut. Third, a lot of the artwork for those peoples seemed to be pretty clearly tied to specific religious tradition, and I didn’t want to risk appropriating something Significant in a disrespectful way (.i. to paint on a warship for a game of toy soldiers.)

So I moved away from anything Canberra specific, and decided to instead go with something to reflect a broader ideal. It’s still Australia-centric, but she is the OUDFS Canberra, after all, and I kind of figure that Australia is still very dominant in the Oceanic Union - like we are now. We’re jerks.

AIATSIS offered that. If you move around the AIATSIS website, you’ll see a lot of bands of colour, interspersed with white lines. These represent various communities on the land, with the white representing songlines. This is general enough that it’s not terribly appropriative, while also (I thought) looking good on the tabletop. It also works well with the flat panels of the OU ships.

This didn’t work out as smoothly as I’d like for the simple reason that white is hard to paint, especially if you’re trying to do it in the recessed bits! What was I thinking? And multiple colours on the rest of the flat panels? This was an exercise in tedium that resulted in the miniature sitting half painted on my desk for months.

I was originally going to overlay this design with some stylized bogong moths, as these little buggers are endemic to Canberra. There are plenty of appropriate looking designs I could use as inspiration, and having little months on the ship’s extensions might have looked great! But like I said, I got frustrated and tired, so I dropped that idea.

I stuck with AIATSIS designs for the main body of the ship. Like with the other ships of the line, I like the main body to have a strong design to draw the eye where it’s supposed to go, and also because I really need more practice doing freehand. Oceanic Union ships are great for that, and it is in keeping with the background of the Tuffleyverse.

The main logo of AIATSIS is a stylised shield of the Kunjen people from North Queensland. This is obviously nowhere near Canberra, but, like I said, for an overall capital-city sense it works. I didn’t want to steal the design wholesale, but rather just use the combination of reddish browns, blacks, and whites, that were already part of the palette I used for Strikeforce: Wollondilly. Whites are generally used for smaller panels/lights/whatever and brown tones are common enough on ship bodies.

The end result isn’t quite as striking as I’d like, possibly because the browns are too dark, or possibly because the black lines aren’t strong enough. But I think it’s okay. The roughness of the freehand works, even though the ship presumably isn’t literally hand-painted, because Indigenous designs shouldn’t look machine-pressed anyway. That would defeat the point.

Thanks for reading all this. I have a lot more readers now than I did when I started this project, so it is worth remembering that Australia always was, and always will be Indigenous land. We invaded and stole this country from those who lived there before us.

My use of various Aboriginal and Pacific peoples’ designs is intended to err on the side of inclusion and representation, as  Aboriginal Australian, Maori, and other Australasian peoples are rarely seen in science fiction. Here is the note I wrote when I first started posting about miniature spaceships.

Anyway, that’s it for the OUDFS Canberra. I have some fighters to work on next, a space station, and then the Oceanic Union Full Thrust project is finished!

#spaceships #miniatures #wargaming #full thrust #oceanic union #ground zero games #science fiction #sea of space #process

[ncfan-1]

In Screaming Color

Ketsu on color, life, and Sabine.

------------------------------------

i.

“So you paint, huh?”

The students in Sundari’s Imperial Academy tended to have a much wider age range than what was typical of the galaxy at large, or at least Ketsu had been led to believe as much. Other facilities across the galaxy would be segregated by age, but here on Mandalore, all the best and brightest of all ages were enrolled into the same facility. It was occasionally kind of bizarre to see ten-year-olds in the same class as thirty-year-olds, but Ketsu had grown used to it, over time. You could get used to most things over time.

What Ketsu had not gotten used to was the sheer dearth of color in the Academy. She’d be lying if she said her life before enrolling was an easy one. She’d be lying if she said that living in Sundari in general was easy for anyone who fell short of the top of the pecking order. But there was plenty of color if you knew where to look for it—graffiti scrawled on walls in the slums, paintings stuffed away in back rooms, tattoos you only saw if someone rolled up their sleeves or took off their shirts, the flowers someone was growing in a window box, watered with blood, sweat, tears, and only occasionally portions of their rationed water. They were there if you could find them, splashes of red and yellow, green and blue and purple and pink and orange, though you might not see it at first glance.

In the Academy, tracking down color was like trying to grasp smoke in your hands. You caught glimpses of it, fleeting glimpses, and then it was gone again, swallowed up by white and gray and black. Ketsu had chosen the Academy over homelessness, had jumped through hoops, signed forms and taken entrance exam after entrance exam so she could fill the ever-growing hollow spot in her stomach. She didn’t regret it—she enjoyed the classes, and enjoyed a steady source of food even more. And at least she’d have a job lined up once she graduated, so she wouldn’t wind up homeless again. Ketsu definitely couldn’t complain about that.

But that still didn’t mean she was used to how drab everything was. Not at all.

So when it turned out her new roommate was a painter, well…

Sabine nodded, and glared when Ketsu tried to take another peek at her canvas. Ketsu wouldn’t have thought it would be so easy for Sabine to keep her from seeing the canvas—their dorm consisted of a single room with their beds pushed up against separate walls—but Sabine was doing a pretty good job. Probably because she didn’t have any misgivings about slapping Ketsu’s hands with the handle of her paintbrush it she got too close. “I’m entering in the Young Adults Competition,” Sabine explained. “And you can see it when I’m done,” she added pointedly.

Ketsu shrugged and sent back down on her own bed. She’d heard artists could get kind of touchy about letting people see their unfinished work. Ketsu’s experience with art was more appreciating it than making it, more longing for color than creating it, but she guessed she could respect the artist’s need for privacy. “Why enter it in a competition? Why not keep it?” she asked in mild curiosity. If Ketsu was any kind of artist, she knew she wouldn’t want to just hand her work over to other people.

“Because the Academy administration doesn’t let you keep art supplies in your dorm if you’re just creating art because you want to,” Sabine told her absently, her eyes fixed on her canvas. “Then it’s just ‘a waste of resources’—“ she rolled her eyes “—but if you’re making something for a competition, or a charity, or something like that, then it’s ‘getting the word out there’ and ‘representing the Academy to the community,’ and suddenly the monitors don’t care that you’ve got non-essential stuff in your room anymore.”

Now Ketsu rolled her eyes. “Figures it would be something like that. I can’t remember our overlords ever being too happy when we take our minds off our studies.” An unscheduled inspection in the dorms was usually the cue for all nine hells to break loose at once, as the students raced to hide any “contraband” that might be stowed away in their rooms. Contraband ranged from the older students’ bottles of booze to snack foods to unsanctioned literature to magazines that had probably been pilfered from a doctor’s waiting room to clothing that wasn’t the standard uniform. Ketsu’s last roommate managed to hide a jewelry box for the better part of a year before it was finally discovered. Sabine had a suit of armor packed in a box under her bed—her family had apparently pulled some strings to let her keep it, but that hadn’t stopped the inspector from trying to confiscate it during the last inspection, and wow, Sabine could be really scary when she wanted to be.

(Sometimes, Ketsu wondered what exactly the inspectors did with the stuff they confiscated. “Get rich” was probably the answer; there was a thriving black market in Sundari for just about everything you could think of. Maybe that was why the inspectors had tried to ignore the fact that there was an exception for Sabine’s—never worn—armor; a good suit of high-grade beskar could fetch a fortune on the black market.)

But Sabine didn’t seem to share Ketsu’s contempt for the inspections. “The handbook says what we are and aren’t supposed to have in our dorms,” she pointed out, as she dabbed her paintbrush in the little splotch of black paint on her palette. “It’s pretty clear-cut.”

“You’ve got no imagination.”

“Hey, I have plenty imagination, but the handbook’s still pretty clear.”

Ketsu resisted the urge to sigh long-sufferingly, and instead eyed Sabine with something closely approaching pity. Her new roommate was barely a month out of the auxiliary Academy on Krownest; it was the first time she’d ever been away from home. Her family was an influential one here in the capital, but they were also very, very traditional, and Sabine had been given what, to Ketsu, was a terminally sheltered upbringing as a result. ‘Imagination,’ sure she had imagination, just not the right kind. Knew six ways to kill a man bare-handed, and didn’t know where to go to get an ID card altered or where to go to buy contraband food.

No chance of her getting mugged if she ever winds up on the streets, but she still wouldn’t last long.

Sabine sure could get lost in her art, though. Minutes walked sluggishly by, and Sabine remained thoroughly unaware of Ketsu’s scrutiny, not even looking up from the canvas on the easel in front of her. Ketsu leaned back against the wall and pursed her lips appraisingly, watching her roommate at her work.

At eleven years old, Sabine was two years younger than Ketsu—not the youngest student in the Academy, but definitely on the far low end of the scale as far as age went. She’d been picked up by the Sundari Academy because of her skill in, well, just about everything; the rumor mill confided that Sabine Wren had blown her test scores clean out of the water. She spoke Sundari Standard Mando’a with a noticeable accent, and slipped into her home dialect, a decidedly old-fashioned-sounding thing, when she wasn’t paying attention. Whenever she was in class, she wore her long hair tied back or braided, but when she was in her room, she wore it loose, and she looked…

Pretty. Honestly, she did. The Academy uniform, white and gray, washed her out, made her skin look sallow-sickly, but Ketsu Onyo could not help but notice that Sabine Wren was really very pretty. Her fine black hair had a warm brown undertone, and it spilled over her shoulders like water when she leaned forwards. Her eyes were like amber, and they gleamed under light, two bright spots of color in a very drab world.

-0-0-0-

Two days later, after the hours that she was able to snatch from the jaws of classes and studying (and sleep, Ketsu couldn’t help but notice; if Sabine turned out to be the ‘neglects bodily needs’ kind of artist, Ketsu already knew what the intervention was going to have to focus on first), Sabine was done with her painting. True to her word, she let Ketsu drink in the sight of the finished product.

“…Huh.”

“’Huh?’ That’s it? Come on, Ketsu; I need real feedback, not just a ‘huh.’”

“Yeah, I know, Sabine. Just give me a moment.”

Ketsu’s very first impression of Sabine’s painting was of a riot of color. Nothing was dark or dull or even a little muted; everything was bright and vivid, occasionally verging on neon. Even the blacks and whites were rich and crisp. Her second impression was that it was, well, different.

Any of the art you saw in Sundari tended to be Navanist. The movement had been pioneered by Navana Tiran, an artist who had died about sixty years ago. Tiran had herself revived and modified a style of art that had been in vogue about four thousand years ago, which might explain its enduring popularity today. Mandalorians of all clans, planets and factions did like to talk up their glorious past; even the New Mandalorians on Mandalore, those who had ruled before the Empire, had adopted Navanist art as their own.

(People were always so surprised when Ketsu told them that her favorite elective class this term was art history. They really shouldn’t have been.)

Sabine’s style, whatever it was, was not Navanist. There was some trace of it in the black and white checker pattern in the upper left-hand corner, but otherwise, no, definitely not Navanist. The shapes weren’t as blocky, the lines softer and more rounded. In the lower right-hand corner, there was a starburst, electric blue at the edges and bright, piercing green at the center. The background was a deep, rich reddish-purple, speckled with pink and orange and crimson.

The subject of the painting could only be the woman who stood in the center of it all. Her hair was black and tumbled in curls over her shoulders. Her skin was bright brown, her eyes golden, her sweeping dress as red as human blood. She stood facing the viewer with a proud, stern expression on her face, and in her hands she held a broken sword.

“It’s not Navanist,” was Ketsu’s first, honest assessment, with all that that implied for how it would likely be judged.

Sabine hunched her shoulders. “I know it’s not Navanist; it’s something from home, and something of me. What do you think of it besides it not being Navanist?” she pressed.

“I do like the colors,” Ketsu replied immediately, and Sabine’s smile was so bright she seemed to glow. “I didn’t see much artwork before I enrolled here, but most of the stuff usually just used different shades of a single color—two or three, tops. This is full-spectrum.”

“I know,” Sabine chirped, still basking in that moment of praise. “I like using as much color as I can when I paint.” Her smile twisted into something a little nervous as she reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I think you’re the first person who’s actually liked me using so many colors at once.”

Ketsu laughed. “Maybe I’m just starved for it after so much time here.” She peered closely at the woman in the painting, her eyes narrowed. For some reason, this didn’t feel like a random choice on Sabine’s part. It looked too deliberate, too weighty for that. Add into that the fact that the woman wasn’t painted in the same style as the rest of it—a lot more fine detail around the woman’s hair, her dress, the jagged edge of her broken sword than in either the checker pattern or the starburst—and something was nagging at Ketsu’s mind. “Sabine… who is this woman? Was she based off of anyone in particular?”

This question was met with a shrug and a decidedly evasive shift of body weight from one leg to the other. “Jain-adi. She’s just a story my grandmother used to tell me when she was still alive. It’s not important, Ketsu; I just thought it would look nice with all of the other colors.”

‘Jain-adi,’ whoever she was (probably a story native to Krownest or one of the other colony worlds; it certainly wasn’t a tale Ketsu had ever heard in Sundari) was pushed to the back of Ketsu’s mind as something occurred to her. “Hey, Sabine, come with me for a bit? I want to show you something.”

Color might often be difficult to find and difficult to grasp here in the Academy, but Ketsu knew one place where she could go to find that fleeting experience, and it just so happened to be active right now. There was a testing area where students who were being taught to mix chemicals for explosives were to try to set them off to see if they’d been successful. There were multiple observation ports available, and anyone who was interested was allowed to observe. Ketsu wondered if Sabine had gone before.

As it happened, she had not.

Today, the explosives were producing vibrant red and golden bursts of light, interspersed with undertones of pink and titian. Sabine’s eyes grew very round as she watched in rapt silence. For a long time, she was so silent, and stood so still, that she barely seemed even to breathe. Oh, great. I broke her, Ketsu thought, stifling a laugh. Even so, she couldn’t help but feel the wonder she saw slowly unfurling over Sabine’s face.

Then, Sabine turned to Ketsu, and the grin on her face as she half-whispered, “Do you think you could mix in colored powder to get colored smoke in the blast?” was quite possibly the most beautiful thing Ketsu had ever seen in her life.

ii.

Defecting wasn’t anything planned, in that Ketsu hadn’t been planning for months and months in advance. It wasn’t a case of growing more and more dissatisfied with Mandalore under the Empire over time. It all happened at once, and Ketsu didn’t plan any of it. If there had been anyone with a plan to defect, it was Sabine, and Ketsu wasn’t even sure Sabine had had a plan. Even more than with Ketsu, for Sabine, it had all happened at once. It happened too fast for plans, beyond your very basic “get off-world and try not to die in the process.”

(If they had known to prepare for it at the time, they might have planned against nightmares, Sabine especially—Sabine never slept all the way through the night anymore. They might have planned against memory burning too bright, against tears, against vomiting when they ate something heavier than air, against the screams that rattled in their ribcages until their ears were full of the sound of it, and they could hear no living sound. Might have planned, but didn’t know, and couldn’t plan.

Sabine was good at making things, but neither of them were any good at taking apart the things they’d built deep inside themselves.)

The next stage of the plan was “get off-world and go someplace where they can’t find us,” so Nar Shaddaa had seemed as good a place as any to make for. Nar Shaddaa was an easy place to get lost in, a great place to go if there was someone you were trying to outrun. Ketsu Onyo and Sabine Wren were trying to outrun an entire Empire, so nowhere short of Nar Shaddaa would do. And it did offer plenty in the way of employment opportunities for people with Ketsu and Sabine’s somewhat limited skillset.

“How does this look for a tag?”

“Okay, but Ketsu, why would you even want just one tag? I’d go nuts if I could only paint one thing.”

“It’s for recognition, Sabine. People who want to hire us, they need something tangible for us to base our reputation on.”

Sabine eyed Ketsu’s tag dubiously for a moment, before going back to focusing on what was fast turning into a full wall painting. “If you say so. Me, I’ll just let my style speak for itself.”

“Go right ahead. I could watch you paint all day.”

This had been Sabine’s idea in the first place, leaving a painted ‘mark’ in the general vicinity of an area where they’d nabbed a bounty, though Ketsu was beginning to suspect Sabine had suggested it more out of the need for a distraction than anything else. Ketsu didn’t mind so much, since Sabine had taught her how to use spray paint and now she could create art for herself, though Ketsu’s skill wasn’t anywhere near Sabine’s level. Not yet. Making art of her own was kind of heady (Ketsu couldn’t tell if this was going to be a permanent thing, or if it was just that the novelty hadn’t worn off yet), even if she was trying to ration the paint as much as possible, and only use it for her tags.

Sabine?

Sabine was showing no such restraint. If she was going to graffiti a wall, she was going to graffiti as much of that wall as was physically possible for her to graffiti.

Sometimes, Ketsu wondered if the denizens of Nar Shaddaa appreciated the free art they were being given at such a generous rate. She certainly hoped they appreciated it, because Sabine could spent hours at a time in a single session, and replacing her paints when she ran out of a certain color wasn’t exactly cheap. Tonight, Sabine’s painting wasn’t even bound by a single theme—she seemed to be going for whatever popped into her head.

There was the shriek-hawk, done up in unlikely shades of green and pink. There was a helmet in the same design as Sabine’s, but done in bluish-gray—the helmet of a female Death Watch operative, it looked like. There was a small portrait of one of the big-shot bounty hunters around here, a Zabrak named Sugi. A Gauntlet-class Starfighter, a pink and gold starburst, simple slanting lines of blue and purple. And, in the midst of it all, a broken sword.

The broken sword had been showing up in Sabine’s wall art a lot lately. With each new time she saw it, the less convinced Ketsu was that Jain-adi was a simple bedtime story, or whatever Sabine might try to pass it off as.

Sabine…

The dull white and gray of the Academy uniform wasn’t what Sabine wore anymore. When she’d left behind the ruins of her old life, she’d also quite definitively walked away from the muted color palette home had restricted her to. Sabine had taken the armor she had made with her family (painted, asides from the helmet, white with pale golden accents) and spray-painted it the brightest colors their meager savings could buy, a full spectrum of colors, until you would never have recognized it at first glance. Her hair was short now (which was a shame, since Ketsu had thought it looked prettier long, but when she had found Sabine in the process of cutting it, she’d finished the job herself) and dyed it a shade of pink so bright it almost hurt to look at it. It was definitely a good look for Sabine—the armor didn’t was her out like her uniform had, and once it stopped being kind of painful, the hair dye was a pretty shade of pink—but there was something like desperation running under the surface of it. Like Sabine was trying to project an image of having always been like this.

Ketsu didn’t know what Sabine wanted. Hell, Ketsu barely knew what she wanted, beyond living, not starving or getting shot, and maybe getting picked up to work for somebody like the Black Sun. Some security would be nice; some certainty would be nice. But asides from that, Ketsu had no idea what she wanted; things were usually happening either too fast or too slowly for her to get a good handle on it. She couldn’t even begin to guess what Sabine wanted. She wasn’t even sure that ‘not dying’ was on that list.

(What Ketsu told herself, again and again, was that if this was true, she didn’t care. It didn’t bother her. It was Sabine’s life, and how she chose to live it or end it was her own business. But still, Ketsu found herself checking to see how much Sabine had eaten, whether she was even trying to sleep at night, what she murmured to herself in shadowed places when she thought no one was listening. Ketsu took special care not to examine her own motives, though when Sabine smiled weakly at her, Ketsu couldn’t help but smile back.)

“I’m going to head back to our room,” Ketsu said at length, her eyes fixed on the side of Sabine’s head. “Don’t stay out here all night, okay?”

Sabine didn’t look at her as she muttered, “Sure.” She was absorbed in her work, to be certain, but Ketsu couldn’t see any joy in her face. Just concentration and that desperate thrum thrown up against the wall. Her eyes were glazed over, her mouth quirked in a tight, downwards line.

Ketsu bit back a sigh, and started back for their shared room in the nearby flophouse. There wasn’t going to be any getting Sabine to talk normally when she got like that.

As she made her way slowly down crowded, dimly-lit streets, Ketsu reflected on how different Nar Shaddaa was from Sundari. It was much more crowded, for one thing—Sundari had plenty of people in it, sure, but the Siege had left it rather depopulated compared to what it had been like before, and Nar Shaddaa was bursting at the seams with people by comparison. You couldn’t go anywhere, at any hour, without bumping into someone; the Smuggler’s Moon never slept, and nighttime was merely shift change. This was the last stop for a lot of people, their last chance for any kind of life at all, and plenty of them never made it off the moon’s surface again.

It was also a lot more diverse than Sundari had ever been. Sundari, as well as all the other major cities on Mandalore, was populated almost exclusively by humans. The only non-humans you saw were dock waters, black market dealers, drug runners, exotic dancers and prostitutes, the half-shadowed dregs of society. Here, however, humans were a decided minority compared to the seas of non-human faces Ketsu was confronted with every time she stepped outside her door. Twi’leks and Rodians, she’d had some experience with. But there were so many she hadn’t had any experience with at all, Kiffar and Trandoshan, Bith and Aqualish and Toydarian, Zabrak and Devaronian and Togruta and Quarren and Ithorian, and some species Ketsu couldn’t name. She’d even seen a few Wookiees from time to time, though not many. Nar Shaddaa was an incredible mix of species, a quagmire of languages, Huttese being the only one that bound them all. It still made Ketsu’s head spin, sometimes.

(This, ironically, was an area in which Sabine was doing somewhat better than Ketsu. Krownest being a colony world meant that they did tend to have a little more trade with outsiders, and Sabine’s clan being high class meant that Sabine tended to wind up in situations where she interacted with these outsiders. There were even a few non-human adoptees in Sabine’s clan, and though they might be from near-Human species, one Mirialan and two Kiffar, Sabine had still been brought up thinking of them as kin, rather than “Other.”

Not to say she wasn’t having problems, too. Sabine did occasionally just seem to grow overwhelmed with her surroundings, standing still in a street where everything else was moving, and staring around, huge-eyed and silent. And when there wasn’t the silence, there were the questions. One of the people living nearby them in the flophouse was a Miraluka, and Sabine had managed to make her extremely nervous by pestering her about how exactly she could see if she didn’t have any eyes. Ketsu would have thought it was funny, if she wasn’t afraid Sabine was going to get shot later.)

And there was the color.

Here was where Nar Shaddaa contrasted itself against Sundari most brilliantly: the color. You didn’t have to go digging in back alleys or condemned buildings to find color here—it was present everywhere you went, intense, screaming color. Ketsu feasted on color every time she stepped outside her door. Glowing neon signs in every color, though red and pink and golden were most common. The walls of buildings were done up in rust-red or deep blue or crisp black or orange, though the acid content in the rain tended to leave the paint jobs pretty uneven after a few months. The peoples’ clothing came in every hue imaginable, and so did their skin. Where humans’ skin came in shades primarily of pink or brown, non-humans were not nearly so restricted. In the Twi’leks Ketsu came across, just by themselves, she saw rich crimson, vivid blue, creamy yellow, warm orange, pale pink, bright green, and even striking violet.

This planet, these people, they were a bit like Sabine. There was some fast-flowing undercurrent of desperation to this performance, a plea to look at the surface and look no deeper. They girded themselves in color and were holding it up as a shield against, what, exactly?

Ketsu didn’t know. Even the armor she’d picked up from a non-quite-black market dealer had paint speckled on it, from standing too close to Sabine when she painted, and from her own endeavors. Maybe if she ever figured out what she wanted in life, she’d figure it out then.

Ketsu went back to their room in the flophouse. Waited for about an hour, and nothing. Told herself not to worry, and failed. Waited half an hour more, then strode back out her door.

She didn’t have to go all the way back to the paint site to find Sabine. She barely had to leave the flophouse proper to find Sabine. Sabine had taken perch at one of her favorite spots (or so Ketsu guessed; it was hard to tell with Sabine these days), the railing just outside the flophouse. The railing overlooked one of the major ship routes, but when there were relatively few ships to disturb the smog, the lights sparkling in the smog banks almost looked like stars.

The high wind whipping through the catwalks and the roar of nearby ships and speeder, they were enough that Ketsu didn’t hear it until she was close. When she did, she paused, frowning in confusion.

Sabine Wren could do just about everything you could think of. She could paint, could write eloquently and read and understand easily materials that had people ten years her senior scratching their heads in confusion. She could understand complex equations like other people understood 2 + 2 = 4. She could take things apart and then put them back together better than before. She spoke half a dozen languages, could mix chemicals to make her own explosives, and most impressively, knew six ways to kill a man bare-handed. One thing Sabine could not do was sing on-key.

Ketsu had teased her about it in the Academy. Sabine’s perpetual inability to sing properly was pretty funny, and her flustered reaction to being teased about it was even funnier. Sabine was nothing if not the galaxy’s biggest perfectionist; being confronted with something she couldn’t easily master was either the cue for her to work night and day trying to master it, or just not try at all. Singing had, after a trial period, fallen squarely in the latter category, and Ketsu rarely ever heard Sabine sing after that.

She was singing now, though, so quietly that Ketsu had to draw near to make anything out, and so quietly that you almost didn’t notice it was off-key. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared out over the city, and she noticed not when Ketsu came to stand beside her. She was singing not in Basic, nor Huttese, nor Sundari Standard Mando’a, but in her home dialect, and there was such a slow, heavy quality to her voice that Ketsu barely recognized it.

‘And she said “Where is my husband? Where are my sons? Where are my kin that raised me? Where is the home that sheltered me? It is gone, and I forsaken.” “Oh,” Jain-adi cried, “O broken land, Where must I wander now, So far from any welcoming arms?”’

Ketsu said nothing, and Sabine mumbled over the words of the song, so low that Ketsu couldn’t make anything out at all. She felt helpless, and hated it.

-0-0-0-

Leaving Sabine behind wasn’t anything Ketsu had planned, in that she hadn’t exactly been plotting it out for months and month in advance. It was just something that happened, a decision made on impulse during a job gone wrong. There had been no malice in it; Ketsu had just been trying to survive, like she always did. It had happened all at once, the instinct that told her ‘Stay alive!’ drowning out the instinct that said ‘Protect Sabine!’ like a scream drowned out a whisper.

It was nothing personal.

She hadn’t looked back, had willed herself over and over again not to look back, both in the sense of physically looking back, and later, in looking back upon memories. She’d willed memory to go fuzzy, and imagination to go dead, so she wouldn’t remember with clarity, and wouldn’t imagine what sort of face Sabine must have worn when she realized that Ketsu wasn’t coming back. Ketsu wasn’t so lucky, there.

But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered, now. There was no Sabine Wren in Ketsu Onyo’s life anymore, beyond what phantasms waited in her dreams. There was no one for Ketsu to care about but herself, and she had to focus on surviving. On not starving. On not getting shot, or stabbed. What room was there for anything else, when she had all of this to worry about?

Eventually, Ketsu did manage to get picked up by the Black Sun. She was good at her job, after all, and prided herself on never letting herself grow complacent like some of the older bounty hunters around the galaxy. The Black Sun liked that, and they liked Ketsu’s low failure rate even better. Now, Ketsu found herself with all the security and stability she had ever dreamed of when she lived in that flophouse on Nar Shaddaa, when she had fended for herself in Sundari before enrolling in the Academy. She had all she had ever wanted in life.

So Ketsu almost didn’t notice when she began living that life with an edge of quiet desperation, when she began rushing through it, when ‘Don’t look back’ and ‘That’s ancient history’ became things she told herself so often that she heard it in her head every day. She almost didn’t notice when the food she ate started tasting a little blander, when tracking down a bounty lost a little of its savor. She almost didn’t notice when every bit of color around her started looking a bit desaturated.

(Ketsu had picked up a new set of armor with the money she’d gotten from her first job with the Black Sun. She’d painted it bright, loud pink, nearly the same shade that Sabine’s hair had been dyed on Nar Shaddaa. It gave her some comfort, some reassurance.)

It didn’t matter, and when Ketsu told herself that, she could believe it. If the galaxy was a somewhat duller place, she was at least surviving in it.

iii.

(She met Sabine again, after the passage of many years. Ketsu found that something she’d thought dead inside of her was merely sleeping, and slowly waking up.)

iv.

Out of sheer embarrassment that her intel had been wrong and the Yost system wasn’t safe for Sabine’s cell of rebels after all, Ketsu brought in supplies for them on Atollon when she could. Starship fuel, rations, spare parts and the like; she might not quite be ready to pick a fight with the Empire, but she remembered her and Sabine struggling to get by on Nar Shaddaa, and memory was as keen as a vibroblade’s edge, these days.

“So what are these things again?” Ketsu asked Sabine, as they watched the giant insectoid creatures outside the line of sensor markers try to get at them where they were perched on empty crates. Apparently, the rebel base had a bit of a pest control problem, and though the rebels might have found a solution, the sheer size of these things still made Ketsu a bit leery. Especially since Sabine had confided that literally their only real weak spot, the only instant kill spot, was their eyes.

Sabine rolled her eyes. “A big problem,” she groused. “Thanks to them, nobody can go outside the base without a sensor marker, and we’ve gotta use a ton of sensor markers on our perimeter just so they won’t overrun the base.”

“Wouldn’t the weapons on one of the blockade runners be enough to kill them?”

“Don’t know, don’t wanna find out. They weave webs strong enough to ground the Ghost; I don’t want to know if they can do the same thing with the blockade runners.”

“They did what?! You’re joking, right?!”

“I wish; we all nearly ended up lunch for these things!”

Ketsu eyed Sabine disbelievingly, her eyebrow twitching, just a little bit. “…You know, I know a world with great beaches if you ever decide you don’t want to live on this hellhole anymore.”

Sabine laughed, and Ketsu tried not to think about just how long it had been since she had last heard Sabine laugh (Before they left the Academy, more likely than not; on Nar Shaddaa, Sabine had barely been able to summon the will needed to smile). “No thanks. With our luck, it would probably turn out a Star Destroyer was letting its crew take shore leave there.”

“You’re probably right. Even if they’d never know what hit them, once we were done.”

Eventually, Atollon’s pest control problem got bored with trying to find a way around the sensor markers and left. Ketsu relaxed a little, leaning back with her palms planted on the empty crate she was sitting on. Sabine had picked out a spot at the very edge of the base, still within view of the ships, but not exactly within shouting distance. It was quieter out here, with only the wind to break the silence.

Of course, there was inevitably more than a little dust in that wind. Ketsu wondered how anyone managed to live here without choking on the dust; she certainly didn’t see anyone wearing face masks over their mouths and noses. Whenever she was here, Ketsu found herself keeping her helmet on, unless she was dealing with Sabine. It was hot, too, in a way that neither Sundari nor Nar Shaddaa had ever been. It might have been a dry heat (which sure beat the alternative; Nar Shaddaa might have been humid, but at least it was also cool), but the sun still managed to beat down hard on everything it touched. Between the heat and the dust, Ketsu knew these people must have been having a hard time keeping their ships in good shape.

They wanted somewhere remote, somewhere the Empire wouldn’t think to look for them. They never said anything about ‘hospitable’; there wasn’t exactly anyone in the Yost system I would have called paradise.

Still, the sunsets here were nice.

Night was fast approaching. Give it maybe two hours, and the skies over Atollon would be dark. For now, the horizon, the plateaus and the strange coral-like rock formations, were touched with gentle light. The sky was golden, and shone pink and lavender, tinged orange.

The lavender matched Sabine’s hair, actually. She’d changed her dye since last Ketsu saw her, switching out a bright, electric blue for a softer, gentler-looking lavender—though Ketsu noticed that ‘lavender’ seemed to veer towards ‘white’ closer to Sabine’s roots (She wondered if that was a deliberate choice, or if the dye had just been low-quality). Changed her haircut, too, so that her hair was shorter now, tapering off around her chin instead of clinging to the back of her neck.

Her hair wasn’t the only thing about Sabine that had changed. Her arm and leg muscles were noticeably leaner—she’d always been trim, but it looked like she’d been stepping up her strength training lately. Her face had lost the last of its childish roundness, cast now in narrower, more angular lines, the sharp line of her cheekbones finally fully revealed. Sabine was, mercifully (it would have been a little embarrassing to have to explain herself), unaware of Ketsu’s scrutiny, instead staring off into the wilderness, with a look on her face that defied definition. A type of regret Ketsu refused to define curdled in her stomach as she looked at her.

Maybe… but no.

“So… how have things been around here? Asides from your pest control problem?”

It seemed as good a conversation starter as any. Nice and safe, with nothing that could even remotely be defined as a leading question. Sabine could talk so much more freely, but Ketsu found herself barely able to spit out anything more personal than ‘I’m good.’

Sabine kicked her crate with the back of her foot. “About the same as the last time you were here,” she said noncommittally. Last time, Sabine had been nervous and snappish, and though she’d never explained her behavior, Ketsu had gotten the impression that there was a bit of a situation on the Ghost. Apparently that situation was still ongoing, though maybe not as bad as last time, if Sabine could be calmer now. A small smile appeared suddenly on Sabine’s lips. “You remember what I told you last time? That Commander Sato was trying to track down an illegal still?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Apparently, drinking alcohol, let alone brewing it, was a big no-no on the base. Ketsu didn’t get it—it seemed to her that these people needed a way to unwind if they were risking death every day—but that was still the way things were around here. A boring place, as well as hot, dry and dusty. “I take it he found it?”

“Oh, yeah, he found it, alright.” Sabine snickered. “He found it in the hold of his own ship. We all thought we were gonna have to peel him off the ceiling.”

Ketsu snorted. “I’ll bet; he seemed like a bit of a hardass when I met him. So what, are the perpetrators kicked out of the rebellion?”

“Uh-uh. We… can’t actually afford to toss people out over stuff like that; we don’t have enough personnel for that. They’ve just been put on maintenance duty for the next six months.”

“Well, that’s one way to discourage a repeat offense.” Ketsu rolled her shoulders and quirked an eyebrow. “In their place, I probably would’ve done the same thing. It’s not like there’s a lot around here for entertainment; I’d take your worst homemade booze over sitting around on off-hours doing nothing any day.”

Sabine wrinkled her nose. “Ketsu, we have to be ready for an attack at all times. It’s kinda hard to be ready if you’re drunk or hung-over.”

A sudden burst of laughter escaped Ketsu’s throat. “You’re still so strait-laced, Sabine!”

“Only compared to you!” Sabine retorted, but she was smiling.

-0-0-0-

“Jain-adi…” Sabine sighed lightly, staring out at the dark sky. It was night now, and Atollon’s remarkably clear skies showed a canvas of billions of twinkling stars. “…I never told you about Jain-adi, did I?”

Ketsu didn’t answer. She stared at Sabine in silence, wishing she could see in the dark better, so she could see her face.

But Sabine seemed to take Ketsu’s silence for uncomplicated assent, for she went on, “Jain-adi was a story my grandmother taught me when I was little. It’s a poem, as long as the epics we learned about in the Academy, but it can be sung, too.

“Jain-adi was a Mandalorian who fought during one of the great clan wars about two, two and a half thousand years ago. No idea if she really existed or not; I just know that the poem dates to about eighteen thousand years ago. Jain-adi was a warrior who fought for House Vizsla. She made…” Sabine paused, and even in the dark, Ketsu could see her tense, could see her lick her lips. “…She made weapons for her kin to use.”

I can see why that would hit a little too close to home.

“But the plans for her weapons were stolen,” Sabine said, very softly, “and the enemy turned her creations against her, and all that she held dear. Her homeworld was attacked, and most of her clan was killed, including her husband and their children. She was beaten; her sword was broken. Jain-adi was forced to go into exile, carrying her broken sword with her.”

It was a long time before Ketsu could say anything in response to that. Finally, she managed, “That sounds… familiar,” in a voice that was only a little choked.

Sabine nodded. “Yeah,” she replied, in a voice that was only a little choked, too. “There were times when I felt like I was living…”

Stories had their power, but that power wasn’t always a force for good.

“But,” Sabine said suddenly, and her voice was as crisp and clear as a winter morning with no clouds, “up until recently, I’d forgotten how the story ends.”

“With all the major characters dead and the spoils being sorted out amongst whoever managed to live to the end?” Ketsu asked skeptically. That was how most Mandalorian epics tended to end.

“No, Ketsu.” Sabine drew her legs up on the crate and turned to face Ketsu directly. “Jain-adi wandered the Outer Rim for about twenty years, but eventually, she went home. She gathered an army, and she went home. She routed House Vizsla’s enemies and freed her homeworld. She won.

“I… I don’t know if I’ll ever go home.” Sabine looked away briefly, saying quietly, “I don’t know if there’s anything left for me there,” before turning her attention back to Ketsu. “But I believe we can beat the Empire. I believe we can get rid of them. I’m not saying I think it’ll be easy, but I know I can try, and I know I can keep fighting until we’ve won.”

She spoke with such blazing certainty, and with none of that edge of desperation that Ketsu had discerned in her on Nar Shaddaa, or in Sundari by the end. It was like… like she really believed they could do it, her and the other rebels. Ketsu stared at Sabine, stunned. When did this happen? When did she get like this?

When Ketsu finally found her tongue, she couldn’t address this directly. Not quite yet. Instead, she leaned in a little closer to Sabine, and asked curiously, “Whatever happened to that first painting you did for that competition? The one with Jain-adi in it?”

Sabine let out a choking, exasperated laugh. “It didn’t even place. The judges said it was ‘amateurish’, which is hilarious considering every one of the contestants were my age, so it wasn’t like any of us could have been professionals. I sent it home to my family. I wonder if they even kept it, after…” She trailed off, and there was no mistaking the undercurrent of bitterness in her voice.

Ketsu’s heart began pounding too hard, too fast in her chest. There was something she found herself longing to say, but still, she couldn’t find it in herself to say it just yet. Instead, there came something that had been a long time coming, something that had spent the better part of a year festering in her chest. “…Sabine, for what it’s worth… I am sorry for what happened.”

“I already said I forgave you,” Sabine replied swiftly, looking away and hunching her shoulders.

“Yeah, you did.” Ketsu shifted her weight uncomfortably. “But I never said I was sorry.”

She was. It surprised Ketsu more than probably anyone else, but she was. She’d done it to survive, but that still didn’t mean… The more she thought about it, the more it screamed in her, deep inside.

Sabine drew a deep, whistling breath; she folded her arms over her chest. Still avoiding Ketsu’s gaze, she muttered, “We… we were both really screwed up, weren’t we?” An uneven sound that wasn’t a laugh, wasn’t a sob, wasn’t much of anything tore from her mouth.

“Yeah.” Now it was Ketsu’s turn to look away. “We were.”

This was still too easy, but it would have to do.

…

“Sabine, listen.”

“What is it?”

“It’s gonna be a while before my contract with the Black Sun expires. But when it does… I was thinking. You guys need all the people you can get, right?”

At that, Ketsu had Sabine’s full attention. Even in the dark, Sabine seemed practically to vibrate with excitement as she demanded, “Are you serious?”

Slowly, very slowly, a smile unfurled over Ketsu’s lips. “…I think so, yeah.”

She’d always been looking for something she couldn’t find. She’d always been trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Ketsu still wasn’t sure about those first two points, but lately, she’d been wondering if just surviving was really what she wanted after all. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but just looking at how the rebellion had given Sabine her sense of purpose back, her sense of joy back, Ketsu wondered if maybe it wasn’t worth a shot. She’d never know if she never tried.

It was too dark to see if Sabine smiled or not. But her amber eyes shone like stars in the darkness, and that was enough.

#Star Wars: Rebels #Star Wars #Fanfic #Femslash February #Ketsu Onyo #Sabine Wren #Ketbine

[jeanettbrumfield-blog]

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