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#using a sketchbook again has revived me
waklman · 1 year
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Tilly, do you write for Bobby?
not yet! i scrapped so many stories for him, but honestly i really might extend my fake it universe and give bob his own story there, just because i kinda love college frat boy bob
here’s something i scrapped for him tho! i don’t think i’ll ever finish it so i’ll share! (it was about lovers reuniting in the future)
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Bob’s drawing blank—quite literally.
He’s been staring at the empty sheet of cartridge paper for what feels like hours, when it’s only been a few minutes at best. It’s another mundane Tuesday where he finds himself spending his evening with the only woman in his life—his therapist.
Try drawing what you feel, she told him. As if Bob even knows what he’s feeling, he’s paying her two hundred a week to help him figure that out—no?
If Bobby was a teenager again, sitting with a sketchbook in his lap—he would’ve brushed his digits over the fine toothed sheet just once to know exactly what he wanted there.
But this Bobby didn’t know what he wants there. This Bobby’s too busy trying to revive the dead hobby in his therapist’s office.
“Did I lose you, Robert?” Glenda asks gently, trying to get a read on him.
“No, it’s—yeah, you did,” he replies tiredly, eyes nearly shutting from fatigue. There’s no point in lying to a professional. It’s not like he has the energy to, anyway—not for today’s session at least.
There’s a beat of silence, where he’s left unanswered. Glenda’s waiting for him to look up at her—so he does.
Bob absently smiles. “You lost me,” he reestablishes—maintaining eye contact with her.
“That’s alright.”
It’s not alright actually—far from it, Bob thinks. This used to come so easy to him, it was second nature at one point in his life.
Bob says nothing, watching as she pulls opens her desk drawer, taking out something from there. Gently, she slides a colorful sheet of paper across her desk. “I have a better idea,”
Bob secures the book in his lap, leaning over to look at her “better idea”. Suddenly, he draws back in his seat as if the lifeless piece of paper was biting at him.
He swallows thickly. It's a promotion flier for a planetarium that’s having their grand opening this weekend.
“I can’t go—I’m moving into my new apartment next week,” he deflects.
“You can go the day after.”
Bob could recall the day he first met you as if it was yesterday.
It was drizzling outside, another April shower was starting to wash down that afternoon. Once school ended, Bob was quick to get to his car before the end of the day rush came, pulling out of his parking spot with one destination in mind—the planetarium on the far side of town.
As he drove into the guest lot—it rained down harder. And Bob didn’t hate, hate is bad for your heart, his Momma engraved that in him. But in his underwhelming teenage rebellion, Bob decided that he hated the bad weather. Whenever the sky wasn’t clear, neither was his mind.
So he hates it.
Clutching his sketchbook against his chest, Bob runs towards the main entrance, not wanting to watch his new drawings get ruined. But also not watching where he was going.
You crashed right into him, nose slamming against the leather cover of his book, triggering a nosebleed.
Bob’s flushed in embarrassment, muttering apologies over and over—as he bends down to pick up the notebook he knocked out your hands.
What happens next, sticks with Bob forever. You giggle—there’s blood is dripping down your chin, but you’re humored by his panic. To anyone else—this might’ve look horrifying, but Bob doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight.
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jmkartworks · 1 month
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A Taste of Summer (from a sketchbook) – Pencil, ink, watercolor – 8.5 x 11 inches.
A famous song begins with the following lines:
“Just about a year ago I set out on the road Seekin' my fame and fortune Lookin' for a pot of gold Things got bad and things got worse I guess you’ll know the tune. . .”
I’m guessing that even though you may have forgotten the first six lines of the tune, you will not have forgotten the last:
“Oh Lord, stuck in Lodi again.”
Creedence Clearwater Revival’s 1969 song made Lodi, California feel to me like one of the circles of Hell. But there are worse places in this world to be stuck in: Spokane, Washington, Broma, Sweden, and just about anywhere in Texas come immediately to mind.
At least Lodi has some excellent wineries, especially if you fancy bold reds. This watercolor shows the tasting room of one of them. At first sight it felt dark and imposing, but it’s dramatic and I thought it showed an imaginative use of space. I didn’t paint it to advertise the winery or the city; it just happened to appear during the travels of some friends spending a beautiful day in the pleasant company of Dionysus.
That was a while ago. Today, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, it’s the middle of March, the middle of Lent, and many of us feel stuck. We may be finished with Winter, but Winter has not finished with us. Rain and snow are predicted to visit us, yet again, by the end of the week.
So as an act of public service, here’s an image of a sunny afternoon in June that just happened to be in Lodi. Yes, Summer will arrive, no matter where we happen to feel stuck.
More posts on my website: JohnMichaelKeating.com
Other links: [this post on my website] [about my new book]
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smokeybrand · 2 years
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Dragonheart
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It’s been a while since I've watched a full season of anime an this current one is chick full of stuff i recognize. The last two, actually. Mushoku Tensei, Redo of Healer, The Hidden Dungeon Only I Can Enter, Tsuki ga Michibiku Isekai Douchuu, Meikyuu Black Company, Isekai Cheat Magician, Nagatoro-san,  I've Been Killing Slimes for 300 Years and Maxed Out My Level, Skeleton Knight in Another World, Otome Game Sekai wa Mob ni Kibishii Sekai desu, and In the Land of Leadale ; The list is quite substantial. The common link between them all, I read the manga adaptions. A few of these things are really good onscreen, Tsukimichi immediately comes to mind, but others are much better on the page. It’s wild seeing so many of my favorite stories, getting the an anime adaption treatment. I adore the fact that so many are getting the exposure they deserve and i fund another one that i think will garner a ton of fans given, the opportunity: Ryuu to Ayumu Nariagari Boukensha-dou ~ Youzumi toshite S-Rank Party kara Tsuihou Sareta Kaifuku Majutsushi, Suterareta Saki de Saikyou no Shinryuu wo Fukkatsu Sasete Shimau ~ !
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That title is a hole as mouthful i know, but it is quite the read. I actually stumbled across this thing last year sometime, right around the time i was getting into Skeleton Knight and Isekai Shikkaku, however, unlike those other two titles, Ryuu just stopped. One chapter is all i had, and even then, it wasn’t being scanlated by anyone. It took forever finding just that one. Every other version of that initial story, was in Japanese. I found it on the primary site i use for manga but, again, Japanese. And then Russian. I can’t even Google Translate Russian! I ain’t got the keys for that! It took a whole goddamn year before this thing got picked up again and, ever since, they’re had fairly regular releases every month or so. The story, itself, is just picking up but, so far, i am super into it. There are only five full chapters available for reading right now, broken up into half chapters because of course thy are, so there’s more than enough available to get a feel for the content going forward. Let me tell you, i am definitely feeling the content.
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Ryuu starts off as one of the betrayal anime that seem to be all the rage now. You know what i mean; Someone gets kicked out of the adventurer party and left for dead but awakens to some new power and sets out on a a new life. Kind of pant by numbers, especially if you’re into Redo off Healer as our protagonist, Dion, is a Healer, himself, but with much less sexual violence. Dion is actually a pretty decent person in that regard and takes his betrayal well, sing the last of his power to save a severely wounded dragon. Much to his surprise, this dragon returned the favor and gifted him a bit of her blood, reviving Dion with a massive amount of power and brand new companion, Eldora. The two st out to escape the dungeon they were trapped within and, along the way, have a bit of an adventure unto themselves. This is literally a very glib synopsis of the first chapter and half but it’s on purpose. I don’t want to give too much of the story away. It’s only five chapters so check it out on your own.
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So, why do i like this thing so much after only five chapters? Because the dragon has titties! In all seriousness, the thing that initially grabbed my attention was the art. This book looks nothing like anything on the market today and i love that. I’m a sucker for unique visuals which is why i like Oda so much. Say what you will about his style, you absolutely KNOW Oda’s art when you see it and you can’t take that away from him. Karikari Ume has that same potential. Their art is incredibly dense, with strong lines and intense shadows. It feels genuine and earnest, like a kid just doodling in a sketchbook but with years of experience backing that whimsical passion. The art is expressive and kinetic and full of movement while maintaining this endearing, honest, love for the craft. I love this style and it lends itself to the narrative so far.
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I mentioned earlier that this sis a story steeped in the Betrayal sub-genre that seems to be all the rage right now. I’m on record as being a person who doesn’t hold tropey narratives against their authors as long as they can make up for that lack of creativity, with something unique. I cannot stress enough that we are only five chapters in but, so far, Kishimoto Kazuha has not disappointed. I actually read his other manga, Isekai Shoukan wa Nidome desu, which is fine. Mans knows the story he wants to tell and he tells it with no issue. That’s kind of my only gripe with his writing style; Its very derivative. Kishimoto writes for the trends. He picks up on something and just kind of throws a narrative together to capitalize on what’s hot. That’s fine as long as the content is there. Overlord and Tensura overcame the OP isekai trope to become something incredible. I can’t say for sure that Ryuu will have the legs to follow suit but, so far, i like what I've read and have high hopes going forward.
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I absolutely adore this manga. A Story About a Dragon and the Rising of an Adventurer ~ A Healer Who Was Seen as Useless and Was Kicked Out From an S-Rank Party, Goes off to Revive the Strongest Dragon in an Abandoned Area ~ has all the potential to really be something special. It feels like old school manga, that Nineties type of sh*t with light comedy and a drizzling of fan service, to boot. I’ve been reading manga and watching anime for decades and always love when they throwback to the Golden Age like this book does. It feels like it has it’s feet in both worlds; The modern isekai/fantasy tropes through Kishimoto’s writing but that gorgeous, unique, art style is from Ume firmly plants it in the variety I've known since i was a kid. I want to say this is one of the best mangas I've read in years but i can’t. There simply aren’t enough chapters for that. What i can say is i get excited every time this thing is updated and i look forward to reading every bit whenever it’s releases. The only other manga i feel this strongly about that aren’t, like, grandfathered in from years ago are Yancha Gal, Call of the Night Walkers, Tensei Shitara Ken Deshita, Mato Seihei no Slave, Isekai Mokushiroku Mynoghra, and Isekai Shikkaku; All of which are goddamn masterpieces. That puts Ryuu in good company and more than enough to give this thing a shot.
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I have a tooth infection. Waiting for antibiotics and painkillers to kick in and this came to me.
Nile has been through so much and she is exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. She’d died, come back to life, been kidnapped and killed again. Met a bunch of new people. Had her sleep interrupted by a horrific nightmare that turned out to be real. Spotted a betrayal in action. Shot herself in the foot. Been involved in an all out battle and been killed jumping from a 15th story penthouse only to revive and find her bones, all her damn bones repairing themselves. And she kept it together.
And that was just the start.
Life, immortal life had started with a bang and it didn’t stop. Booker is exiled for 100 years. A whole century, longer than most people lived in total and that’s the moment that the weight of immortal life really hits her.
And she keeps it together.
Andy takes off by herself. The boys ask her not to but off she goes and Nile feels shattered. Andy is her commander, the boss and Nile feels like the rug is being pulled out from under her once again as she watches her pack a small backpack. Andy wraps her hand around the back of Nile’s neck and says
“You’re a warrior Nile, and this isn’t forever. I’ll be back and those two men out there will look after you.”
And she keeps it together.
Nile feels the loss of her family like a physical pain. At times searingly so, like it is a nerve pain that just can’t be eased. She stares at their photographs so often that Joe offers to draw them for her. At some point when the pain is less she’ll agree but for now she needs the photos, the familiar proof that she was theirs and they were hers.
And she keeps it together.
The breaking point is over something she would never have foreseen. Life with Joe and Nicky is remarkably domestic considering all that’s happened to her, to them all. She loves them both already and they seem to love her in return. She sees all they do for her to make her more comfortable and it warms her heart. Nicky learns how to make the food her mom did, Joe tells her stories and takes her to art galleries. Both of them train her in combat and watching them dance together with their swords is nothing short of exhilarating. They will both get up with her when she has a nightmare about Quynh and she is eternally grateful to them. Joe tells her stories about their fierce, loving and hilarious sister and Nicky makes them tea. They hold her until she stops shaking.
They are a constant. Joe and Nicky, Joe&Nicky, JoeNicky. Immortality seems slightly less terrifying with them at her side, them at her back.
And she keeps it together until the day she comes home from a run and everything is off. It all looks the same with her stuff scattered where she’d left it, Joe’s sketchbook and charcoal on the table and Nicky’s latest book open on the sofa. The boys are in the kitchen talking in their usual mix of languages but so quickly Nile can’t make any of it out. Except this isn’t them talking, their voices aren’t raised but they are wrong. Nicky sounds cold and harsh and totally unlike her Nicky. Then Joe laughs and it she gasps because Joe’s laugh has become one of her favourite sounds but this is like a terrible imitation. It’s cold and hollow and is totally unlike her Joe. They seem to be unaware of her presence as they continue what is clearly an argument.
Joe and Nicky are arguing.
Joe and Nicky, her Joe and Nicky who have been together for centuries are arguing. They are arguing and there is nothing but anger between them. She sees no sign of the men she loves so deeply and if they are gone what does she have? She can’t see her family. Andy is gone. Booker is a mess. She only has Joe and Nicky but they aren’t here anymore and...and...and..
She can’t watch this.
She hates this.
She turns and runs for her room letting the door slam behind her. She throws herself at her bed and the tears won’t stop. She hears a weird noise and somewhere she realises that it is coming from her. She’s crying so hard that she doesn’t hear her door opening but she’s vaguely aware of the bed dipping on either side of her.
“Nile?”
“What’s wrong Nile, tell us?”
They sound like themselves now, Nicky’s voice is soft and Joe looks deeply distressed as he strokes her back.
“You, you were arguing.”
“Yes... we were but what’s wrong Nile?”
Nicky sounds confused and he’s switching from gazing at her to exchanging looks with Joe.
“I, I can’t. If you two split up I just, I can’t. So much is different but you two are solid and...”
She trails off wiping her eyes and Joe laughs. His laugh, his warm deep laugh that she knows so well and she turns to him.
“Nile, I love Nicky more than life itself. I could no more leave him than I could leave myself.”
“Joe is part of me Nile. The best part of me I could never leave his side. I will never leave his side.”
They are holding hands now whilst both keep an arm each firmly around her. It’s helping and she feels grounded.
“But in the kitchen.”
“That was nothing Nile. So much has happened to us, all of us and we both needed to vent.”
“But you looked like you hated each other.”
“We’ve not hated each other for many centuries Nile.”
Joe’s voice is serious but still has his gentleness in it.
“We promise you that we’re good Nile. We’re still us. Occasionally we have a disagreement but we’ll make sure not to do it around you.”
Nicky holds her tighter and sounds agitated
“We’re sorry we upset you Nile.”
They cuddle together and Nile drifts off listening to them reassuring her and then just talking to each other whilst keeping their arms firmly around her. This goes on for quite some time until Joe’s stomach grumbles and they go off to make dinner, not before each of them hugs her and kisses her forehead. She goes to wash up and when she makes it into the kitchen they are speaking in their mix of languages again but it is soft and loving once more. They plate up and dinner is just like usual.
Later Nile asks them what they were arguing about and facepalms to find out it was all over a bet Nicky made with Booker in 1903 that he couldn’t learn to be a sword swallower.
“And he couldn’t.“
Says Joe sternly as Nicky says
“Shut up Joe!”
“But he can swallow my...”
This time it is Nile who yells
“Shut up Joe!”
“You know that even if Uncle Nicky and Uncle Joe split up they will still both love you very much Nile.”
Andy appears and slips into an empty seat at the table.
“Shut up Andy!”
“How did you know?”
Nile is delighted to see her but bewildered at her sudden presence.
“These two panicked and texted me when you got upset. Honestly, it’s like I can’t leave you for a minute.”
The evening ends with Joe, Nicky and Andy outdoing themselves with relating their stupidest ever deaths and they all end up crying from laughter and finding it difficult to breathe.
For once Nile is happy to not keep it together.
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artzychic27 · 3 years
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Grey blazer, orange shirt, purple jeans. Nobody should be able to pull that off, and yet somehow, he made it look amazing. Marc shouldn’t be daydreaming right now, he’s right behind him! So, with some quick thinking, Marc ducked behind one of the bushes and watched as the boy of his dreams walked by
‘I wonder what he’s drawing now,’ Marc thought to himself as he watched him walk by. Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Francoise Dupont’s resident artist and the boy Marc’s fallen in love with, walked by with his eyes glued to his sketchbook as he twirled his pencil in his fingers with such ease. Marc watched him with a dazed smile, ‘How does he make twirling his pencil look so dreamy?’
Marc’s gay, everyone knows that. Most of the students don’t mind, but there are still a few who do care about it. It’s because of them, Marc’s too afraid to admit his feelings to Nathaniel. Them, and the fear that Nathaniel might reject him because he’s straight and Marc has been wasting his time falling in love with a straight boy!... He’s still so cute.
Marc goes to get a better view of him, and couldn’t help but let out a sigh that Nathaniel heard. He quickly ducked behind the bush again as Nathaniel turned his head from his sketchbook to see where the sound came from. Marc’s heart begins to race, beating rapidly. With shaky hands, he places them over his chest, silencing it
Nathaniel sees nothing and shrugs, thinking it was just a pigeon. He looks back at his sketchbook and continues to make his way to the school. Seeing him leaving, Marc lets out a sigh of relief. He needed to calm down, so he reached into his messenger bag then pulled out his black journal and a red pencil with black spots on it. The pencil was given to him by his cousin, Marinette. He didn’t know where she got it from but didn’t think too much of it.
He opened the journal to a blank page and began writing
‘To the redhead I admire from afar. When I see you, I can’t help as my heart beats faster.’
At that, Marc’s heart began beating rapidly again. Writing was supposed to help calm him down, so why...
‘It beats for you and only you. As you walk by, each beat feels like it’s trying to escape its confinement in my chest to be near you...’
Marc suddenly dropped the pencil and put his hand back over his chest. His heart was now beating faster than it should be... Suddenly, the rapid beating stopped. With a sigh he removed his hands from his chest, only to then find a pink heart with eyes floating right in front of him
The heart looks around and lets out a tiny gasp when it sees Nathaniel. The heart looks back at Marc and points to the boy who’s walking away. Marc suddenly felt his heart take hold of one of his fingers and began dragging him to Nathaniel
Scared of actually confronting his crush, Marc pulls back with all his strength, only for his back to collide with a tree. Marc regains his composure and lets out a horrified gasp when he sees his heart in Nathaniel’s hand. He must be so distracted by what’s in his sketchbook because he’s twirling his heart around by its little arms. Marc needed to act fast because now Nathaniel, still believing his heart is his pencil, is about to gnaw on it as he does with the tips of his pencils when he’s thinking. The heart smiled and puckered up to kiss Nathaniel, causing Marc to panic, run over to Nathaniel, and grab his hand
‘Huh?’ Nathaniel thought as he felt someone grab his hand? He looked and saw Marc, smiling nervously as he pulled his hand away and held his heart behind his back... Or so he thought. As Nathaniel looked from his now empty hand to the boy in front of him, Marc can see his heart poking out of Nathaniel’s sketchbook and grinning at the page he was working on. Marc rushed forward and tried to catch his heart before Nathaniel saw it. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow, not exactly sure what was going on
Then next thing they knew when Marc finally caught his heart, their faces were merely inches apart with Marc’s arms around his neck, and his leg up in the air. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God! Our lips are almost touching! Crap, someone’s coming!’ In a panic, Marc moves away from Nathaniel and leaps into a trash can just as Max and Kim walk by
Nathaniel looks from the trash can Marc jumped into before looking at Max and Kim and giving them a little wave. Once they were gone, he looked back at the trash can in confusion. As he moves forward, the warning bell goes off as a signal that school is about to start. He looked back one more time before making his way to school with his eyes still glued to the page of his sketchbook
The heart peaks out of the trash can with joy as Marc peaked out with fear. ‘That was WAY too close!’ Again, the heart took hold of Marc’s finger and dragged him out of the trash can towards Nathaniel. ‘Not this time!’
Just as they are a few feet away from Nathaniel, Marc leans his body to the right, causing his heart to go in that direction, but it’s not giving up so easily. It gets back on course and resumes much faster. Marc shuts his eyes, ‘Nonononono!’ Just then, he trips over a rock which sent the two flying in the air and right over Nathaniel’s head. The heart took this opportunity to lightly brush its hand against Nathaniel’s silky smooth red hair. He doesn’t notice and made his way up the stairs of the school
Marc got up off the ground and searched around frantically for his heart. He looked up, and much to his horror, his heart slips into the school after Nathaniel, ‘NO!’ Marc rushed to his feet, ran up the stairs, and rushed into the school, breathing heavily as he did. To his dismay, Nathaniel is sitting on the floor as his heart nuzzles up against the redhead’s cheek
In a panic, Marc surged forward to grab his heart. When he grabbed its hand, his heart grabbed Nathaniel’s finger with no intention of letting go as Marc tried pulling it back.
Nathaniel looks at Marc, then his heart. ‘Is this... Is this his heart?... Marc Anciel likes me?’ He looked back at Marc, who’s now looking away as students crowd around them and take in the scene before them
Marc recognized most of these people. They were the ones who didn’t like that he was gay. The ones who talked about him behind his back even if he was only a few feet away from them. Some looked on with disgust, others with confusion. Not one friendly or supporting face in the crowd.
Marc’s eyes begin to water as he tugs on his heart, only for it to start cracking down the middle. His eyes widen and he looked at Nathaniel, only for the redhead to tilt his head down so his bangs would cover his other eye. This act made Marc pull even harder despite the condition his heart was in...
Finally, he ran out of the school with only half of his heart in his hand. The other half was in Nathaniel’s. He pushed his bangs out of the way and stared down at the other half of Marc’s heart. When he looked back up to see Marc running away, he felt horrible about what happened.
Time passes. Marc sits at the bottom of the steps and looks down at the piece of his heart in his hands. He closed his hands around it and silently cried, ‘What was I thinking? Nathaniel must hate me now. He couldn’t even look at me...’
Hearing the doors open, Marc turned his head, only to look away when he sees Nathaniel walking down the steps. Using his hoodie sleeve, he wipes away his tears just as Nathaniel sits down next to him. Marc hesitantly looked at Nathaniel, who was smiling at him. The redhead reached for his hand, only for Marc to flinch away and keep the other half of his heart clenched tightly in his hands
‘Alright, you should’ve expected this. Can’t blame him... You can do this.’ Nathaniel reached for his hands again, and Marc slowly opens his hands, revealing half the heart. Nathaniel placed the other half down and held onto Marc’s hand as he pushed the two halves together, reviving the heart. It springs back to life with the same joyful smile as it looked at Nathaniel.
Nathaniel, now blushing, scoots closer to Marc, making the boy smile and blush too. He takes Marc’s hand in his and leans in close until their lips press together. As they’re kissing, Nathaniel’s heart flutters out of the inside of his blazer and collides with Marc’s heart, the two becoming one
Marinette watched the two from afar as she picked up the pencil Marc dropped earlier. She whispered, “Miraculous Ladybug,” and it disappeared into ladybugs that flew around town
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billyboymiki · 3 years
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5 Works Tag Game
Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and post or link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
I got tagged by @tippenfunkaport and @caramelaire for this tag game!!
I’m not one to compliment myself on anything honestly. Recently I remember thinking about how I barely drew anything this year. There was a part of my brain nagging at me to check how much I had drawn last year. So, I uh did. Turns out I drew basically nothing?! I triple checked this in fact. My DeviantART, Tumblr AND my camera roll. Nothing . . . I drew 5 very basic pinback button designs and that was it. I couldn’t believe it; but, it made be feel so much better about what I did this year. Basically my whole instagram is all artwork from this year, since I am actually really new to IG. I got super close to 40 works this year!
Now onto the works! They are in order of when I drew them 😊
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Glimmer Inspired Patterns
I wanted to teach myself how to make patterns on Clip Studio so bad! I watched a couple of YT tutorials, and I can’t even remember why I decided to make She-ra ones specifically; I’m glad I did though! The Glimmer one means so much to me. Just looking at makes me so happy! The fact that so many people have now called it ‘aesthetically pleasing’ makes me feel as though I actually created a work that others could relate to. That was enough praise for me; to create something for myself that everyone else loved as well 💖
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Glimbow Cuddle
This was my first real She-ra artwork. When I saw there was a Glimbow Week again I knew I had to join this one. I don’t know if anyone knows this; but, drawings take me forever to make. I used to be strictly a traditional artist and still prefer to draw rough drafts on paper. I couldn’t decide if I wanted them on Glimmer’s window seat or in Bow’s dads’ library. I was afraid of doing backgrounds; so, both sounded absolutely terrifying. I decided to go for the fireplace even if it meant fancy lighting on top of the background aspect. I think I actually spent more time on the lighting that’s hitting Bow than on anything else in this picture. It was worth it though. I studied how the show did backgrounds and lighting for a while. I tried so many different attempts at how I wanted it to look and ultimately went with this one! I love it so much 🥺
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Bow’s list with doodles
Ah, yes the drawings I did for Tippen’s birthday!! I knew I wanted to draw a scene from ‘Tuna Cans’, but I was worried to try something like this. You see, I’m somebody that likes to stay in a comfort zone and only uploaded fully rendered perfect artworks. This year was the first time that I let the ‘fun’ aspect overrule my perfectionism. I’m so happy that I stepped out of my comfort zone for this, because I love Chibi styles so much. I can’t even explain the absolute joy I had drawing these. I didn’t tell anyone what I was up to, so it was just me laughing at myself for being an absolute goofball. The end result and everyone’s reactions were more than I could have ever expected. I’ve decided I’m going to revive this style soon as well so please look forwards to it!!
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Space Suit Squad
Okay, so I cheated a little with this one! I couldn’t just pick ONE of the squad. Honestly though, I drew these with the thought of making them into prints in the back of my mind. I taught myself how to draw a space background and I’m really proud of it! So much in fact that the one in the final pictures is the first and last one I ended up doing! If I had to pick my favorites I think I’d have to pick Glimmer, Bow and then Catra. I LOVE the way I draw Catra I don’t know why? Maybe the eyebrows I’m not sure 🤔 It took me a while to decide on expressions and poses; although, I figured these were the ones because I could look at them and go ‘yep that’s them.’
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Winter Glimbow
This one took me soooo long; I actually had to tell myself that I should put my pen down because it was done and I should stop touching it!!! I was sketching pictures in my sketchbook to make more patterns for my Redbubble account, and of course I’m like 100% Glimbow brainrot. My brain went, oooo you know what would be cute? If this skate was actually Bow’s and not just generic. So, I ended up sketching Glimmer’s as well. The heart that their skates make is like the cherry on the top for me, it had to be done! I’m not sure I did the background justice on this one? It doesn’t matter to me though because the concept was worth the effort. It was snowing here and I needed this picture like I needed air, even if it wasn’t even December at the time I posted it 🤣 I liked this one so much that I have similar ideas for the other seasons sketched out as well 👀
I’m sorry that I ramble so often. I’m like this quiet person; yet, it’s hard for me to get out everything I want to say? I’m horrible at it actually my brain runs at a hundred miles a minute and I’m not good with words most of the time. This turned out as more of a thought process than my actual feelings on each one I suppose. SO, in conclusion. I drew A LOT, I stepped out of my comfort zone, taught myself digital art and patterns. I let myself come to terms with the fact that not every piece of art has to be ‘perfect’. I drew at least 5 FULL backgrounds and I never used to draw them! I’ve also always been one for simple shading and lighting, and I do think there’s a time for that type of style, while other times sometimes a more difficult one might be appropriate. I’m glad that I did both because now I know I can do both, and they each give a characteristic that I adore 🥰 Thank you to everyone that has followed me through this journey, or just anyone who read my rambling! I have an honorable mention under the cut and some originals for anyone that made it this far! 💖
I’m not going to tag anyone; but, if you want to do this PLEASE do it. It was so great to reflect on what I did this year, it really surprised me and I think what you have done will surprise you as well! It’s been a rough year, and in the end we have been here supporting each other and that’s one of the most rewarding parts of being in a fandom! 💜
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Glimmer screencap redraw
Another picture where I really tested myself on drawing a background! I love it even if it killed my hand!! The background definitely took the longest on this one too. My sister literally said ‘Wait, you did the background? I thought you just drew her?!’ And that was the only validation I needed!! I ended up thinning out Glimmer’s outline so she matched the background better. If you use the vectors on Clip please use this feature! You can do the opposite as well, it’s super useful!
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Oh hi! Remember when I said I couldn’t decide between the two locations? Truth is, I also couldn’t decide if I was going to make it traditional or digital. I ended up getting really mad at the traditional version unfortunately. I haven’t gotten the hang of traditional backgrounds. In the end, I should have also done it in Copic and not cheap pencil crayons 😫
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Just some space friends! There is something so rewarding about traditional art. Yes, I can see the mistakes and the proportions are most likely off; yet, it doesn’t bother me? I wanted to also show these bonus drawings because nobody is perfect and I thought some of you might like to see some of my process. Being able to hold it in my hands is something I will never tire of, in a way it’s super rewarding. I keep all my art actually and sometimes I like the rough drafts more than the finished work 👀 Outlining artwork can actually ruin the charm every so often 😔 I do really love the final versions of these though!
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Annnnnd the last bonus!! As you can tell the final version stayed pretty true to my sketches! I almost went with a more realistic look and made the symbols ‘stitched’ onto the skates. In the end it felt like it didn’t fit the rest of the drawing unless I wanted to add extra details to the clothing as well. The wings on Glimmer’s skates turned into ‘Shwings’ PLEASE tell me other people know what that is? I had a pair a few years ago and misplaced them. I was doing the rough draft and it popped into brain and I treated it as a joke at first, until I gave it a proper chance XD In the end I fell in love with it!!!
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m-ziliak · 4 years
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Do you have certain materials you prefer? Like a certain type of paper, pens, etc.?
If you’re practicing, use the cheap crap! Use printer paper and ballpoint pens and RoseArt and Reeves! Always practice with the cheap stuff and save the good quality materials for when you know what you’re doing. For stuff I prefer for myself now... Paper. When working in sketchbooks I really like Canson Mix Media. It has some tooth to it and I really like that. I also work a lot with markers and it holds up to them really well. I have Strathmore Mixed Media books, too, but they’re really smooth and I’m not very fond of that. Seems like it would be better for blending, but I always feel like the pencil or ink is going to smear or feather. For comic book paper I really like Canson as well. Doesn’t bleed, doesn’t feather, I just wish it had some more layout markers. (Though I can just do that with a ruler.) Pencils! Been using Prismacolor Col-Erase for a long while now, usually in Light Blue and Carmine Red. Please note that Carmine Red doesn’t erase well and is kinda a pain in the butt. I used to draw in Non-Photo Blue, but it was too light when I was inking and I’d have a hard time seeing my sketch and scanners would still pick it up. If I’m doing warm-ups, thumbnails, or just sketches I’ll use anything. Normal pencils, ball-point pens. Anything. Pens. For inking I usually go for Sakura Micron. Comes in a bunch of sizes and I go through them like candy. They can handle a decent amount of work, have pretty durable nibs as long as you’re not stabbing the paper. I also like their brush pens for filling in. I used to use Copics as well for inking, but they were too expensive to upkeep and I  didn’t really like how they felt. (I had the metal ones that you could refill. Heavy pens.) I also used to use Stabilo and I kinda hated them. Did my first comic with them and it looks like shit. Feels like holding a pencil, though. I might try them again now that I know how to use pens better, but for now I’ll stick with Sakura. Oh! I also use Sakura Gelly Roll for white ink, but I’m not super fond of it. I just need it for fixing mistakes. I’ll look for a better white ink pen later. Markers! If you wanna get into markers, use Ohuhu. They’re cheap, they dry out in a year, and they come in a ton of colors. Good to practice with. Right now I use Copic Sketch and I like them a lot. I have some that have dried out too soon, so I might try to revive them again, but overall I like them. They blend nicely, they don’t usually feather or bleed too bad, they come in a verity of colors. I like them. I’ve also used Faber-Castell, they’re okay. I’m not really fond of them. They never seem to dry out which is nice. Don’t blend very well, but that may just be me. Sharpie I hate. Never got the hang of them. Hate the smell, hate the colors, I don’t like Sharpie. I know other people that can make them work, though, so that’s definitely me. Other art stuff! I use Mod Podge to glue things, usually paper to whatever I messed up on so I can re-draw it. Bad idea. don’t use Mod Podge to glue things. Coloring over it will also make it look weird. Get a quark-back metal ruler. Keeps the ruler from slipping around. I have a cheap glove-thing I got for free when I bought a tablet to cover my hand and keep me from smearing stuff. I used to have a SmudgeGuard brand one, but the elastic gave out on it and for some reason the woman who ran the store didn’t believe I had small hands so she sent me the wrong size with a letter that an adult can’t have hands that size. I may try to sew my own one day. But it does keep the pencil and whatnot from getting messy.  Computer stuff?? For taking photos and posting them to Insta, I use SnapSeed for fixing contrast and white-balance issues and LINE Camera for editing out stuff like eraser dust or little things like that. For digital art I use Photoshop CS6 and a really out-of-date version of GIMP. Like, so old. Super old. I don’t actually have a scanner and haven’t for a long time now, so I can’t really do any digital art. I’d like to get back into it, but I’m also VERY rusty. I never draw digitally and I should really try to get better at that. I want to try out Clip Studio Paint, but that’s a bit expensive for something I don’t know if I’ll like so maybe I’ll use their free trial. Drawing tablets I’ve used have been a Wacom Graphire3. From 2004. It was a good little tablet until it died. I have a little Wacom Intuos. It has a giant scratch on the surface, but it works fine. If I do any digital art, I usually do it with that. I also have a Huion Kamvas GT156HD. I hate it. It worked properly once and never again. The wires are a pain in the ass, setting it up is even MORE of a pain in the ass. It’s constantly running in the background for no reason, the pens can’t hold a charge, and it freaks out if you have drivers for other tablets installed. No matter how many times I uninstall and reinstall drivers it never works right. It’s a pain to change pen settings, I just hate it. Haven’t used it for two years or so, it was a huge waste of money.
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songsofacagedbird · 4 years
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Hello, I’m Katie, this is my sunshine daughter Balo, and you’re watching Disney Channel! Jokes aside though, I’m so excited to bring Balo back and while not much has changed (truly this is nothing more than a continuation where I only omit plots my partner doesn’t want to revive), have a new intro / bio anyway because... I felt like it ok.  I’ll be good and not ramble too ungodly long though so without further ado - another one of my excessively long intro posts:
TWs: Child Abuse / Abuse, Alcoholism (not Balo’s, but her dad’s), Eating Disorders (anorexia nervosa)
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Is that BALIAN “BALO” DRISKELL? Wow, they do look a lot like CANDICE SWANEPOEL. I hear SHE is/are a SEVENTEEN year old JUNIOR who originally attended LUXOR Academy. Word is they are a(n) REGULAR student. You should watch out because they can be NAIVE and SENSITIVE, but on the bright side they can also be OPTIMISTIC and BUBBLY. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself.  [KATIE, 23, EST, SHE/HERS]
Last Edit: 8/26/2020
★ basics;
Full Name: Balian “Balo” Grace Driskell Age: 17 Birthday: February 7th, 2003 at 08:06 am Sexual Orientation:  Balo really doesn’t label it (although I like to say bisexual, biromanitc to make my own life easier), she always just falls for who she falls for regardless of gender. If you ask her exactly, she’d probably say MOGAI though. Relationship Status: Kinda dating Caitriona but it’s unofficial Occupation: Student Nationality: American
★ classes;
Communications
French
Geometry
U.S. History
Fashion design
Visual Art
Pilates
★ extracurriculars;
Arts Club (Member)
Balo also used to be a Cheerleader (Flyer) and part of the Gymnastics team but due to her leaving / concerns about her health, she was required to step down, much to her devastation.
★ background;
Place of Birth: Rochester, New York Hometown: Saratoga Springs, New York Health Issues: Eating Disorder (Anexoria) Traumas: Abuse (Constant/Ongoing - from her father)
★ physical;
Faceclaim: Candice Swanepoel Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Blonde Height: 5′11” -- not at fc height because I don’t wanna change her height with the new fc Weight: 120 lbs - give or take Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: Nothing I find a need to link at the moment.
★  zodiac;
Tropical
Sun: Aquarius Moon: Aries Mercury: Capricorn Venus: Capricorn Mars: Sagittarius Jupiter: Leo Saturn: Gemini Uranus:   Aquarius Neptune: Aquarius Pluto: Sagittarius Lilith: Aries N Node: Gemini
Placidus Orb
I ASC: Pisces II: Aries III: Taurus IV: Gemini V: Cancer VI: Leo VII: Virgo VIII:  Libra IX: Scorpio X MC: Sagittarius XI: Capricorn XII: Aquarius
★ relatives;
Father’s Full Name: Lance Driskell Father’s Status: Alive Father’s Occupation: Restaurant Owner Mother’s Full Name: Cassandra “Cassidy” Driskell Mother’s Status: Alive Mother’s Occupation: Waitress at a local diner (not Lance’s place) Siblings: 1 older sister and 2 older brothers
Driskell Children Oldest to Youngest:
Ivan Marsden (22, attending school in England)
Grace Driskell (19, in California for school)
Zander Driskell (LINK TO HIS INTRO)
Balo Driskell
Here is a link to the Driskell family page if you’d like to know more about her family.
★ misc;
Hobbies and Talents: Balo’s a sketch artist and painter who tends to focus on realism, in particular realistic humans and animals. It’s her true passion and I have an inspo section for her sketchbook here! She’s also quite flexible and skilled at gymnastics, part of why it’s bothering her she can’t participate currently because she loves it and she’s good at it - making her removal from the team eat at her even more.
Pinterest Section  // Musings Tag // Playlist
- Balo’s kind of a literal ray of sunshine who believes (almost) everyone is truly good at heart. While she tries to see the best in everyone, no matter what, she truly can’t see it in her father, a fact she feels extremely guilty over it. - She loves art, sketching and painting especially, and she always dreamed of being some sort of artist. While her mother encouraged it every chance she got, her father is truly a different story. - Balo is very easy to manipulate and I encourage it constantly. - She truly just wants to love and befriend everyone, while it’s not really too hard to make her cry, usually you’ll see Balo running around with a smile trying to brighten everyone’s day. This is an issue because she’ll put everyone around her before herself every time, your happiness is a priority before hers. Again, making her easy to manipulate. (So I welcome manipulating Balo and love it when it occurs, please feel free to do so at any point) - Her best friend / favorite person in the entire world at this point is Logan Keller, mention him only if you really wanna see this girl light up like a 4th of July fireworks show. (They’re still in touch, for those of you who remember him from when Jia was playing him here!) - Balo recently got out of extensive inpatient for her eating disorder so while she’s doing a lot better, she’s really doesn’t want it to be the main topic of conversation either. She's okay and back at Luxor and she feels that’s the most important thing at the end of the day.
★ bio; TWs: Child Abuse / Abuse, Alcoholism, Eating Disorders (anoxeria, weight loss, and complications from both)
“'Cause I know that nothing good comes easy, if it did, I wouldn't be me.”
If there was one quote that fit Balo Driskell’s life to a t, that would be it. Nothing was truly easy in the Driskell’s home, she was the youngest of three children - an amount that her mother never wanted to have, and would do whatever it took to stay at after this point. Anytime her father walked in after work, the stench of alcohol clung to. She could smell it on her breath every time he yelled, each time he threw things, anytime he hit her. One could have easily convinced the young girl that all families were like this, that everyone covered up bruises and pretended they were much happier than they actually were if it wasn’t for her mother.
Perhaps Casandra Driskell never wanted her children, but she loved them with her entire heart. She’d sneak her children money, things they weren’t allowed to have - guitars, paints, canvases, sheet-music, legos, and whatever else her father deemed banning fit at a moment's notice. She wasn’t always around, working a job at the local diner, but when she was she did everything in her power to protect her children. It was never enough, though.
Lance Driskell still hurt his children close to daily, whether it was smashing Grace’s guitar over her head the moment he found it, pulling Balo down the stairs by her hair, or lashing Zander with his belt - there were quite a few times where a Driskell had to go the hospital and the family had to lie through their teeth to keep people from looking too closely at them at their mother’s urging. If it was investigated the three children would be separated, they would lose their mother, or at least that’s what they were told - and none of them wanted that. It became common for one child to intervene for another if they could, Zander especially taking the brunt of the punishments for his sisters.
It was part of loving someone in the Driskell home, trying to keep everyone else safe no matter the cost it had on you.
Her childhood wasn’t all bad, however, there were quite a few silver-linings in the dark cloud called the Driskell home. She had a close friendship with her siblings and her mother, and she has plenty of fond memories with them. Christmas was always peaceful, as her father always took that shift at his restaurant and refused to celebrate the holiday with them - a time where he couldn’t taint the joy inside of the Driskell home. She could paint when her father wouldn’t catch her in the act, something she loved doing (and she still does every chance she gets), and she had Logan. Logan Keller was her next-door neighbor and her best friend. If you saw one of them, the other probably wasn’t too far behind. In many ways, he was her person - someone she felt like she could go to with nearly anything (she could never discuss home with him at this point, of course, but everything else she could and she did). 
And then the Driskells moved away and it was like the world was ripped out from under her feet - leaving her spiraling and looking for some sort of control. Her new friend didn’t help matters much either, constantly encouraging her to “shed the weight” they swore she gained. She soon found this sense of “control” in the form of her eating disorder, careful attempts to keep herself as thin as she could, of restricting her food every chance she could.  It wasn’t healthy, far from it, but it fulfilled the desire to have some semblance of control over her life.
Sending the children to Luxor had been an easy decision for Cassandra the second the children were able to attend, a way to ship them off to safety while not being too far away from home. While it pained her a first to be away from her mother, eventually she began to understand. She was safe while at school, and at the end of the day, that was what mattered the most to her mother, right? It wasn’t hard to get into the flow of life at the school, staying at school and only coming home for the breaks that the school refused to keep students during. It broke her heart when Lance shipped Ivan to England and told him not to come home (a thought that still pains her to this day), after the boy served his use, and it only grew harder when Grace graduated and moved to California. But she was happy at Luxor, in spite of everything.
And in a way, her love for the school only grew after the merge. Now there were twice as many people to befriend and support, and in the process, she realized something she had been missing had been under her nose for a while. Logan was attending school at Luxor too, and all of a sudden, she had her person in her life again. At the time she felt on top of the world, regardless of the circle beginning to stir up issues.
And then, suddenly, she was knocked right back down to the ground.
First Logan was kidnapped and forced to deliver the message, and then he was forced to go home for personal reasons. The support she had so quickly grown used to having was seemingly being ripped out from her yet again. While he was still in touch, continuing to be her rock, her eating disorder only continued to spiral out of control. And no matter how much she tried to pretend she was fine, it was getting to the point there was no way to really do so. Balo was sick, and now everyone could tell. It was concern from her teachers that helped fuel the chain of events that resulted in getting her help, no matter how much she tried to assure everyone she didn’t need inpatient therapy and that doing outpatient would be fine. After several months of inpatient followed by a bout of “readjustment to the real world” time at home, she’s back at Luxor and as sunshine-y as ever.
TLDR / quick important notes bio recap for rereads: - Balo’s home life is far from perfect. Her father, Lance - is an abusive alcoholic, and while her mother tried her best to protect her children - she also covered things up without hesitation. It wasn’t uncommon to see a Driskell in the ER with a lie and people willing to back up the story. - The lack of control in her life is what led to her eating disorder, in hopes of regaining a (false) sense of control. - She’s been attending Luxor since freshman year, although she recently had to leave for a few months to attend extensive inpatient treatment. And now she’s back to her normal sunshine-esc antics, trying to love everyone, feeding all the strays at Luxor, and trying to spread smiles everywhere she goes.
★ wanted connections;
Friendships
Someone to manipulate her, please I beg you
Um, pretty much anything? She likes everyone cause if you do something to hurt her she does mental gymnastics to come to the conclusion you are a good person and it was an unintended side effect so...yeah. Doesn’t mean your muses have to like her though (I have a lot of fun when they don’t actually, so… don’t worry about hurting the sunshine daughter. Okay?)
Anyone who knows her from the gymnastics and/or cheer teams, as she was on the teams through Freshmen & Sophomore years, and until October of her junior year.
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beatricethecat2 · 5 years
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if/then (2.0) - 20
A few chapters back, I mentioned wrapping this up soon. Flash-forward to now…well, I see where that impulse came from, but also where it falls flat. There needs to be a balance (or as much as I'm capable of) within the narrative arc, so it needs to get pushed farther. That means diving into people and places I'm not as familar with and trying to bring them to life (plus calling back to details and weaving in new ones…you know, writing). So bear with me, it's plotted, but the gaps need filled in. If you’re still on board with this, I thank you heartily. I’m posting two chapters now because I didn't want to leave you hanging at the end of this one. All typos are mine, I’ll do what I can to catch them later (edited 11/30). Look for chapter 21 to be posted soon after this one. Links to other chapters in a reply.
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Despite Morgana’s warnings, the hunt for Helena continues. Myka proceeds with caution, even with Claudia's better-than-government-grade VPN installed on her laptop. Books have become her go-to, with no bots to track or caches to mine. They're slower in the long run but prompt new ideas, which she, in turn, passes off to Claudia.
One thing was certain: even if Helena hadn't planned this ahead of time, Christina’s comfort would be paramount. Cooking classes for kids? After school music activities involving drums? Kempo classes throughout the UK? All searched for and through with little gain. But the question was: how far undercover would Helena and Christina have to go? Was an Interpol intervention different than a regular police one? Claudia watched countless hours of British police shows in hopes of learning more, but was left feeling more paranoid than informed in the end.
Meanwhile, Myka tacked on oddball acquisitions in remote locales to keep from drowning in "what-ifs." There, in relative obscurity, having thrown off her tails, she could scour libraries and bookstores freely. She was at a loss for exactly what to look into, so she grasped onto the list of "Happy Christmases” Helena had taught Christina. She cross-referenced books with internet materials, but kept detailed notes in her sketchbook.
She drew the tiny shape Guernsey and noted the island's pros and cons. At six miles long and three miles wide, it looked like a quaint place to hide. But to travel, they’d need a boat or a plane, and it was closer to France than the UK. And without easy access to a city, Christina wouldn’t be content. She crossed it off the list.
Scottish, she learned, was still spoken in The Outer Hebrides, which, according to one of her guidebooks, boasted an island shaped like an upside-down ice cream cone. Christina would be into that, living on a food-shaped island, so she sketched it out and turned it upside-down. She didn’t exactly see the resemblance, but that wasn’t important. What was: the chain was far from the mainland with only one road plus ferries connecting the islands. Its population was mostly fisherman and crofters; it's landscape, idyllic, but rural. Again, with no city nearby, Helena wouldn’t sequester them there for any length of time. She put it in the “no” column for now.
Northern Ireland was a definite maybe, though they'd included Belfast in their earlier search. She drew the outline of where Belfast and West Belfast met, as apparently, West Belfast held a population of Irish speakers. But Ireland, the island, was massive, the largest part was an entirely different country. That could cause problems if Helena and Christina had to run. She made a note to check into Irish border crossings and moved on.
Cornwall, a fingerlike peninsula jutting out into the Celtic Sea, had multiple transportation options and several cities. They could hide in its rugged countryside while retaining access to several populated towns, and even jet up to London if they were feeling bold. Cornish as a language was only recently being revived, so there was no specific area in which it was spoken. She put a star next to it anyway, as it seemed the most likely. She sent her findings off to Claudia and kept researching.
But then, at an auction a few weeks later, her theory was put to the test. A fifteenth-century atlas lay open to a map of England, Ireland, and Wales, where she traced a path between her researched locations. As a line formed along the furthest edges of Great Britain, it hit her--if one wanted to send their enemies on a wild goose chase, that was it. The “Merry Christmases” were a red herring, something for Christina to broadcast readily, as she'd read children in witness protection programs often gave away their whereabouts accidentally. And she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Claudia was not going to be pleased.
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She's had months to prepare, but here she is, at the last minute, taking time off work to finish several new paintings. Luiza had hooked her up with this group show at a gallery Amanda raved was “blowing up,” but about a month ago she nearly baled. But Luiza insisted she show, saying their work together would lead to stellar reviews. Plus, Luiza needed the press to bolster her artist visa application, so how could Myka refuse?
Well known in her native Sao Paulo, but working hard to make a name for herself in the States, Maria Luiza Izquierdo's work captivated Myka from day one. Her abstract patterns drew her in, with their brightly colored stripes and weaved textiles, bubbling animatedly off the canvas and onto the floor. Her freedom of concept and command of materials was beyond anything she'd ever seen. She definitely was an artist on the rise, and Myka was glad to have made her aquaintance.
And from the looks of Luiza's impressive resume, Myka was an amateur in comparison. Out of the eight other artists at her residency, she’d bonded with Luiza the most. Her ambition was contagious, mind moving a mile a minute, always seeing the good in things. Plus, her smile lit up the room, making it impossible to sulk in her presence. She wouldn't have made it through the first months of Helena’s disappearance without the distraction.
They met up as often as possible when Luiza was in town, her visits kicking Myka out of her increasingly mechanical routine. It was good for her cover, hanging out with Luiza and her friends, plus it lifted her out of the heavy funk she was buried in. Luiza prodded her to show her new work, much like Helena used to do, inviting herself over when Myka failed to do so promptly. There were many things about Luiza that reminded her of Helena, beyond any physical resemblance, but when those thoughts arose, she promptly tamped them down. Loneliness conjured desperate parallels. If Helena were standing next to her, there’d be no comparison.
Having couch surfed though most of her friends, Luiza asked to crash with Myka for this trip. Since Abigail's visit went smoothly, Myka thought, why not? Having company for a few days, especially someone who could help her with her art, seemed like a good idea. But before she had time to prepare, she was called away unexpectedly on a work trip. She left spare keys with the guard at her office and told Luiza to sleep in her room for now. They'd inflate the air bed when she got back.
Upon her return, as she rolls her suitcase down the hall, a mouth-watering scent fills her lungs. It’s not unusual as her neighbor often cooks for relatives, but she’s surprised when the scent intensifies inside her door. The figure in her kitchen, her long, dark hair glowing in the backlight, stops her in her tracks. She’s transported to a different time, a happier one, one she has hopes to reclaim in the future.
“Olá, Myka!" Luiza greets, turning to face her. "How was your flight?”
“H-Hi!” Luiza’s enunciation, choppy and light, is the exact opposite of Helena’s velvety smoothness. Her messy bangs and bright red lipstick further shatter the illusion. “Not terrible. What’s all this?”
“Mrs. Rodrigues, she made us feijoada!”
Myka ditches her bag and steps into the kitchen, where all resemblance to Helena withers as she stands next to the slightly-taller-than-her Luiza. A pot bubbles on the stove as greens stew in a pan. A steaming pot of rice sits on the counter, accompanied by bowls of colorful garnish, more bowls than she remembers owning.
“Mrs. Rodrigues? I've barely spoken to her.”
“She was very much interested in this stranger entering your home.” Luiza points to herself with her thumb. “She is from Brazil, you know. Santos, where my avó lives."
“Avó?”
“Ah...grandmother,” Luiza says, taking a moment to translate the word in her head. She slips two bowls from a cabinet and sets them on the counter. "She feels bad for you.”
“Me? Why?”
“‘Too skinny. Works too much. No namorado.'” Luiza draws out the “o” and circles a wooden serving spoon in the air.
“Namorado. I think I know what that means. So definitely not.” Myka snags an orange slice from a bowl and pops it in her mouth.
Luiza smacks her hand with the spoon.
“Ow!"
“Save for dinner."
“Sorry.” Myka rubs her hand, flashing a mock pout. "It’s nice she’s feeding us. I was dreading takeout.”
“This is much, much better. And I bought cachaça to make batidas.” Luiza holds up a bottle of spirits, grinning ear to ear.
“Nice!” Myka says, smiling back.
“Only the best for my generous host,” Luiza says, adding a small bow. “Now, we eat.” She hands Myka a bowl and sets to making drinks.
At the gallery the next day, they help install each other's work, though Luiza’s pieces are larger and more complex then Myka's. Myka stands back, contemplating placement and aesthetics, while Luiza enlists several other pairs of hands to assist. Myka's in awe of Luiza’s persuasive charm, yet another trait she shares with Helena. But with Luiza, there's no alternate agenda, whereas Helena’s was often circumspect.
“Perfeito!” Luiza exclaims as she steps away from the completed install. “You are in my head, my friend. I should take you everywhere!” She sweeps Myka into a hug that lingers longer than expected, though a hug like this is not unusual. Luiza’s concept of personal space is more forward than her own.
Dinner takes place at a friend of Luiza’s, at a garden party in Silverlake. Myka mills about, catching up with acquaintances, mingling awkwardly with other guests. When everyone takes a seat, Luiza pats the chair next to her, insisting Myka situate herself there. As the meal progresses, Luiza drapes an arm over the back of Myka's chair, an act which Myka finds slightly unsettling. Again, it's not unusual, as Luiza's done it to others, but Helena used to do something similar as a sign of ownership. But as wine is swapped out for brandy, she shifts her focus toward the lively art and commerce banter. Fielding criticism of the trade is liberating, as at work she so often has to hold her tongue.
The next night is the show opening, and the dress Myka picks out isn’t “LA” enough for Luiza. Luiza takes her to a consignment shop where her friend works, where she’s handed a flowery faux-forties dress to try on. Myka twirls to the left and the right, staring at herself in the dressing room mirror, the knee-length skirt bouncing back and forth gaily. It’s a cheerful, tasteful garment, hitting her curves in all the right places. Not that her current wardrobe doesn’t, but it typically flaunts her assets less. It’s a choice she would have made pre-apartment tragedy, but since then, she’s toned down her style. Which suits her job fine, plus with Helena gone, who would she be trying to impress? But it feels freeing somehow, like she’s entered a portal to a simpler time. When she leaves the dressing room, Luiza gasps, and her friend claps with glee. She decides yes, it is perfect, perfect for the show, perfect for the Myka she needs to project.
The scene is giddy as they dress in Myka's apartment. Luiza styles Myka's hair into a voluminous mass of curls cascading over her shoulders. The shade of lipstick she convinces her to wear is so bright her eyes glow green. But it’s Luiza's blouse that steals the show, handmade by her, matching the warp and weft of her work, upstaging her skin-tight leather pants. Myka hasn't had this much fun preparing for an event since grad school with Abigail. The levity is certainly welcome.
There's an afterparty after the after-party, with drinks flowing freely along the way. Myka has no idea how much she drank nor what time they left, but their cab zooms home in no time. Luiza hangs off Myka's arm as they shuffle down her hall. Both giggle as Myka fumbles with her keys. They throw their bags onto the same chair as they stumble in.
“You need a couuuch, minha amiga," Luiza slurs, marching into Myka’s bedroom and plopping down on the edge of the bed. “We drink more! You bring the cachaça. But first I—” She bends towards her shoes, but topples forward, catching herself just barely, palms down, arms extended as if performing involuntary yoga.
Myka hurries in and levers her up. “My shoes, I am sorry,” Luiza says, bending forward again to finish the task. Myka pushes her back, then tries to kneel but wobbles, grabbing Luiza’s knee as she lowers herself down. She slips off Luiza's heel, and as she attends to the second one, Luisa buries her hands in Myka's curls. Luiza angles her face up and leans forward, pressing their lips together.
She’s kissing me. Why is she kissing me? The act is not entirely unpleasant, but not quite right. Is this my fault? Did I lead her on? I didn't, but...did I? She replays the evening in her head, but it’s hazy.
Luiza's hands slip down, cupping the base of Myka's head, deepening the kiss, urging her to rise. Myka breaks it off just then.
“Finalmente,” Luiza says, her voice soft and low, leaning in for another kiss. Myka jerks away, but Luiza's thrown off balance, hands still buried in Myka's curls. Luiza slips off the bed entirely, and they tumble to the ground.
“I can’t do this,” Myka says, pushing Luiza up at the shoulders.
“You have another lover.”
“It's not that."
“Then why?” Luiza lifts herself up so that her arms and legs are now straddling Myka. "Your eyes were on me tonight." She leans in for another kiss, but Myka turns her head.
“This is your ex,” Luiza snaps and sits back on her heels. “You have found her. You’re going to…” She frowns. “Ask for her back."
“I don’t know where she is.” Where did that come from? Myka scoots back, carefully extracting herself from under Luiza's hold. She lifts on her elbows, but makes no sudden move to rise.
“I see it in your eyes. Something has changed.” Luiza falls back, sliding down the edge of the bed, dramatically thrusting her legs out until she’s in sitting position. “You will visit her in London, this woman who destroyed your heart. Tell me where she is, this-this, desgraça, ela que vá a merda!”
Luiza’s Portuguese slurred, but her tone pushed the point across. Myka bends at her knees and inches further back, sitting up while hugging her legs to her chest. Luiza knows everything about her, the entire fake story about Helena as she’s cried in her beer many times over it. But Luiza’s never become this agitated, and she’s not entirely sure why. “H-How did you know I was going to London?” She only found out a few days ago and knows she hadn’t mentioned it.
Luiza drags a hand, raggedly, through her thick, dark locks and looks off to the side. "It was there, on your phone, the text. You left it on the table. It lit up.”
The text, "Sotheby’s London confirmed,” could have honestly meant anything. And she’s been super careful since Morgana’s warning; she hasn't talked about searching for Helena at all, so why would that text set off this tirade?
“It is good that you find her. You must put her away. She is stopping you from better things.” Luiza pushes off the bed and crawls closer to Myka, reaching out and laying a hand on Myka’s knee.
Myka flinches, her head says, "run away," but gut tells her to stay. Something’s not right here. Something big. If Morgana were here, what would she say?
“Put her to rest so we can begin.” Luiza moves ever closer, threading a curl behind Myka’s ear and pressing kiss to her temple.
Myka’s chest tightens as panic sets in. And here, she thought she was being disingenuous, but all along it was Luiza. Luiza’s been grooming her this whole time, tricking her into trusting her, into giving away details about Helena’s situation.
“I’m sorry, but no,” Myka says, releasing her legs and pushing away. Careful now, rejecting her outright will look suspicious after how close you’ve gotten. “I-I’m really flattered, a-and you’re a beautiful, talented woman, but…” Luiza was alone in her apartment. Did she dig through her files? Plant bugs in the walls? Has she been monitoring her calls and texts this whole time? “I, um…there is someone else, if I’m being completely honest.” If only she’d taken up Morgana’s offer, she’d have someone vetted, but now...
“Que?” Luiza says, raising a brow.
“M-My friend Abigail and I, we’ve been talking.” Wait...if Luiza is a spy then she’ll know that isn't technically true, she’ll already know everything about her. “I-I haven’t said anything yet, but I’m planning to when she's in town for Thanksgiving.”
“Abigail. The doctor who lives far away?”
“Only until her post-doc is over. Then she’ll transfer wherever she wants."
“She is your long-time friend. What has changed?”
“I, um…” A catalyst, Myka, come on…think! “When she came to visit for my birthday, she said…she made a comment about maybe dating women. And that stuck with me.”
“She will return your love?”
“I think so.” Or kill me for being an idiot.
Luiza backs towards the bed, looking genuinely shaken. In the moment, she’s simply a bruised suitor, not a potential spy at all.
"I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it out loud.”
“What is jinx?”
“Mess it up before it starts.”
“Que dá azar. Bad luck. Ok.” Luiza holds Myka’s gaze, seemingly gauging the truth in the situation, nodding her head up and down in tiny strokes.
If she doesn’t believe me, what do I do?
Luiza's eyes close as her head falls back against the bed. She’s silent for a few minutes, then takes a deep breath in. “It is time for sleep. And muitos litros de água. Much water.” She hauls herself up, limbs shaking, and walks as steadily as she can towards the door. "Boms sonhos, Myka,” she says, turning back just before exiting.
“Goodnight,” Myka replies, her voice cracking from the lump stuck in her throat. Once Luiza’s gone, she tries to rise, but gravity pulls her down. What have I done? She rolls onto her back and closes her eyes. I'm stupid. So stupid. She’s not my friend. Why can’t I have a friend? A twinge of pain throbs through her brow, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. I have to fix this, fix this now. I need to call Claudia. Or that number Morgana gave me. She rolls over and sits up. But my phone’s in my bag and my bag's on the chair. I can’t go out there, not tonight. She crawls over to her bed and climbs on top, curling up into a ball. Everything’s fucked. Helena, I can’t take much more of this. Where are you? I need you to come back, now.
-TBC-
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mirshroom · 6 years
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heyo! your art style is really stunning and i was wondering if you have any specific tips for other artists who are still kind of figuring out their style? ive personally been losing motivation for drawing over the course of a few years now, but am finding inspiration again in many of the bnha character designs and fanartists like you! so any help or tips you could provide i would appreciate beyond words.
thank you very much! i’d say it takes a lot of practice and many artblocks/style changes until you land on a style you’re satisfied with? granted i still think my style has a long way to go, but i like to go on artstation and pixiv to admire other people’s artworks and try to mimic their style in my sketchbook as drawing exercises– though it makes me wish that i could have gone to art school to learn techniques and stuff there OTL i’m tryin to absorb knowledge by looking at other people’s works because i’m poor wtf!!!finding inspiration in fanartists and manga is also a good idea too! my style used to be heavily inspired by tite kubo (BLEACH) as well as lee kwangsu (Noblesse) haha…. it’s also good to use references and go crazy with different types of media and colors!i don’t have much else to say but i hope your motivation to draw is revived soon and that you keep drawing!! i get stuck a lot too but i somehow managed to get where i am now– don’t lose hope!
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ozlemozcrafting · 6 years
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What I’ve done
(Last Year)
Around September, I was so excited that I will have the luxury to make my crafting dreams come true. But I realized that I’ve forgot to even how to use the brush, so I decided to remind myself how to paint inside the lines, easy as that. I started to draw folk art flowers, so the exercises would not be boring for me. I have drawn as many flowers as I can, then I’ve painted them.
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Then I’ve painted more.
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I’ve made some repeated patterns of the flowers.
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I always wanted to make illustrated calendars, but I never managed to before. This time I decided to make it happen. I created 12 flower characters, designed the pages, and there, I had my calendar. It was just the beginning of 2018, so I decided to take it as a trial and to release it for 2019.
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I’ve bought a cheap sketchbook although I’ve got so many at home, so I decided to make a 100 days 100 drawings challenge for myself, but it lasted 6 days. The paper was not suitable for watercolor, so I didn’t like the result.
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The page with lemons is not crumbled cause I used colored pencils there, but I’m a girl for watercolor. This has been a short attempt, but it has opened new doors for me.
One of my friends have seen my stories and asked me if I can paint big vegetables for their restaurant. I’ve always painted small sized watercolors, so this was definitely a challenge for me.
As I started working, I didn’t want to waste my precious watercolor papers for the sketches, so I found myself sketching in random papers, which I never thought I could paint on before.
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I’ve worked for that project a long time and put all the other self-projects aside. I’m gonna share the details of it in another post. In summary, it was just the motivation I needed to gain the self-discipline I was trying so hard to get.
Meanwhile I was looking for other projects - other than my looong list of projects waiting aside. I’ve heard of Sketchbook Skool in an episode of Your Creative Push (Which is my best friend, and that’s another story.) I’ve read the free book “Start Making Art” there and I got inspired to make a sketchbook of ordinary objects as a daily challenge. That went better, I’ve tried different mediums and different styles. The main point was gaining the habit of drawing every day, even if it’s a little ordinary object. 
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It sure helped, but the “every day” part faded fast.
Just around that time, I’ve seen a post about Sketchbook Revival. I needed something fun after working on the same painting for hours, so I followed all the workshop and played along.
I’m so happy that I caught it at the time, cause it was a temporarily free online workshop and just what I was looking for. It helped me revive my childish creativity. I have a lot to tell about it, maybe I will write a detailed post later.
I’ve learned how to bind the sketchbooks I’ll use during the event.
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These are the pages from the sketchbook dedicated to the workshop.
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Also, while I’m listening the introduction parts, I wanted to start sketching right away so I drew the tutors in an accordion sketchbook that I’ve made.
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After it was over, I kept the spirit and went on filling the blank pages of the sketchbook.
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I painted some random pages, and some other time I was drawing over them. One day I’ve drawn flowers with white pen on a dark background, and I loved it. So it became a thing.
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When Sketchbook Revival was finished, someone in the group posted about 30x30 Direct watercolor challenge. I decided to give it a go. It was suggesting to do all the opposites of what I’m used to do. Don’t mix the colors in the palette, do not draw lines. It was really hard for me and I didn’t fall in love with the results. Whatever, I always liked to expand my comfort zone. I’m pleased that I’m reminded about this style.
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I was wondering if there was a drawing group in Istanbul, just in that time I came across Urban Sketchers Istanbul and I joined some of the gatherings. Meeting with people for drawing together is a good idea.
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Meanwhile I tried different mediums.
There were many bottles of old fabric paint in our home, left by the puppet artist lived there before, so I tried them on a tank-top, that I love to wear now.
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One day I got sick and I didn’t have the energy to sit at my desk, so I laid on the sofa and painted this wood panel while watching movies from my laptop.
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I like the feeling of painting on wood. Found this one on the street; for a while I’ve become looking for things to paint everywhere.
Like these plates I painted the same day.
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I found out about the porcelain pens by coincidence. There was a workshop while I was looking around my favorite art supply store, they gave me a porcelain cup and I started drawing right away. 
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I bought all three pen sets and told everyone that I’m looking for their old ceramic stuff.
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I was gonna visit my family for the new year and was in search of a present for everyone. Then I thought something handmade could be nice. Here are some of the presents.
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I loved the idea of recycling, so I painted on packages. Empty jars, used shampoo bottles, wine bottles.
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Branded cups, stones.
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I’m a fan of anything fabric related so I had to get my hands on some embroidery.
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Played with air-dry clay.
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I love playing with clay, so I tried a DIY recipe I found on Pinterest.
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I painted on the dried dough with watercolor or acrylic.
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Made a ring holder, photo stand, magnets for my mum, a little ship, and I’m so proud of my little brush rests.
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Another DIY material I wanted to try for a long time was papier-mâché, and I couldn’t wait any longer, so I tried it in between my holiday. I’m sure gonna use more of this technique this year.
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This summer I noticed the tile pieces tumbled in the waves, hiding beneath the sand and stones on the beach. I couldn’t do it every day because I killed my brand new Artline pen for drawing these, but still it’s a good memory.
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Ceramics have always been my secret love. I can’t even get near it because I know I’ll want to give up everything and fall right deep into it. But I came across a chance to try and it was as beautiful as I assumed. These are my first ceramics.
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I formed the cups, the plates were gifted by my tutor, then I painted my favorite flowers and my life motto “Create Beauty” on them.
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Tried Tilt Brush, painting in 3D with virtual reality. It was an amazing experience, I was happy like a child when I tried it, but then I couldn’t think of anything I can draw properly, cause it’s hard when you are not used to. I should try it again with more persistence.
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I tried shrink paper but not satisfied yet. This year I’m gonna work on it.
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And of course there are other random drawings and paintings in a habit I already had, if you want to see them you can take a look at ozlemoz.tumblr.com or instagram.com/ozlemoz.art
Sure I’ve done many paintings but I think I could have done better. So this year is gonna be all about it.
I’m gonna do as much as I can!
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sugod2-22 · 3 years
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07:55 AM Good morning lil shit hehe... I woke up like that at around 7:30 AM, I'm still drowsy as fuck and my body is sore. I want to sleep all day today but can't coz I gotta get up soon to take care of mom, then work later at 4. It's my last shift though and the next 2 days will be my day off. Gosh I'm just so tired rn but don't want to be idle or else I'm gonna break my streak again! And when that happens, I just refuse to do anything for a few days, weeks even. It sucks when you have an all or nothing kind of personality. When it's good, it's good but when it's bad, it's just bad. Again, one of the reasons why I'm trying to learn consistency, especially in taking care of myself. Sigh! I also need to be a lil bit nicer to myself. I guess I'm doing good so far. I gotta get up now. Laterz gatorz! 09:42 AM I wish it's valid to tell a family member without any issue whatsoever that you simply just don't wanna deal with their energy today or for a few days. Like I wish they wouldn't be offended or think you're a horrible person just by saying that. I mean there are certain people whose energy just drains yours and they're not even aware of that, it can't be helped, especially when it's a family member who lives together with you. Sigh! I noticed I've been sighing a lot today. I don't wanna deal with my mom's energy today. Like I know this sounds too much but even just hearing her call my name or being near her irks the hell out of me. Actually, not just that but it also triggers my anxiety a bit. I really don't know why, she's not doing anything bad at all, just being her usual miserable self. Sigh! Maybe I'm really just extra tired today. I hope I feel better later. 11:49 AM I ended up being too mean towards my mom. It’s not like I can’t help it, I can never justify being mean to her other than I was simply being an asshole. But sometimes, she accentuates my demon side by being uncooperative as well. Sigh! I mean she’s old, I should just be more understanding. Ya know I really try, it’s just that, I also have a pretty intense temper. That’s why I’d rather not deal with her if I’m not feeling it atm, but then she’s mom and I really have to. I’m not saying she’s a burden, not at all. She just can be pretty hassle to take care of sometimes. Anyway, enough of that. The sketchbook I ordered online has arrived. I decided I’m gonna try to draw again as much as I can. I used to do that a lot when I was younger and I thought that would be a cool hobby to revive. I also ordered 80 pieces of different colors art markers, which is yet to come. I really like the sketchbook, even though it’s a lil smaller than what I expected. And the saying on the cover is what I’ve been trying to apply into my life, it’s one of the reasons I bought it, to somehow serve as a reminder.
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bigyack-com · 4 years
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‘The Far Side’ Is Back. Sort Of. Gary Larson Will Explain.
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Just shy of 25 years since its last original installment, the offbeat comic strip “The Far Side” has returned. In a manner of speaking, but please don’t call it a comeback.“I’m not ‘back,’ at least in the sense I think you’re asking,” said Gary Larson, the cartoonist who created it, via email last week ahead of a website revival. “Returning to the world of deadlines isn’t exactly on my to-do list.” Beginning Tuesday, the “Far Side” site will provide visitors with “The Daily Dose,” a random selection of past cartoons, along with a weekly set of strips arranged by theme. There will also be a look at doodles from the sketchbooks of Larson, who said: “I’m looking forward to slipping in some new things every so often.” (Previously, there was no content on the site.)“The Far Side” became a cultural phenomenon after it appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle on Jan. 1, 1980. The single-panel comic, which ran until Larson, now 69, retired in 1995, featured men, women, children, animals and insects in often offbeat and sometimes inscrutable situations. One installment, “Cow Tools,” featured a bovine in front of a worktable with an odd assortment of implements. The image was described on Reddit as the comic’s most “notoriously confusing cartoon.” There were also occasional controversies: A chimp once described Jane Goodall as a tramp, though she later wrote the foreword for a collected edition of the series. One scientist even named an insect after Larson. After stepping away from his daily deadline 24 years ago, Larson said he rarely drew, except for Christmas cards. But even that was not easy. It “had turned into an annual pain because I seemed to always be dealing with clogged pens, dried-up markers, or something else related to lack of use,” he said. That changed when he tried working on a digital tablet. “Lo and behold, within moments I found myself having fun drawing again,” he said. Here are edited excerpts from the email interview.What was your inspiration for “The Far Side?”It probably all started with “Alley Oop.” I had always liked to draw as a kid, and I remember being grabbed visually by that strip. I was especially fascinated with the dinosaurs, and that’s when I started drawing my own, along with other animals. No cows, though. Later came a major influence from Mad magazine, especially the style and humor of Don Martin. I think that’s the first time I actually laughed at a cartoon. Still later I was taken with the cartoons of Gahan Wilson, B. Kliban and George Booth. All these cartoonists seemed to attach a lot of importance to nuance and composition. There was something almost organic going on between the humor and the art that conveyed it.Did any cartoons provoke controversy?Man, controversy never seemed too far away from me, especially during my first year of syndication. I truly thought my career may have ended a number of times. I remember one I did of a couple dogs that were playing this game, where they were smacking around a cat hanging from a long rope attached to a pole. I called it “Tethercat.” To me, and I assume my editor, it didn’t cross any line because this was just a game dogs might play. But that one got people stirred up. Especially cat people. Doing something controversial was never my intention. This was just my sense of humor, and the kind of humor in my family. I never drew anything my mom wouldn’t have laughed at. Of course, my mom was insane. I’m kidding! Well, maybe a little.I’ll forever be grateful to fans, who in those early days often rescued “The Far Side” from cancellation, or campaigned to get it reinstated. Why did you avoid recurring characters?I would have felt locked in. I just wanted to go anywhere my mind would take me, from bacteria to outer space.When I first met the editor of my syndicate-to-be, he asked about developing recurring characters. The moment scared me. I didn’t have a clue on how to approach character-based cartooning. And then he dropped the idea just a few minutes after bringing it up. To me, characters were only in a cartoon to serve an idea, to play a supportive role just like any film actor might, but in a film so short it was only a single frame.But my own version of central casting started taking shape. I could sometimes be asked by someone if I would draw “that nerdy kid” or “that woman with the beehive hairdo” and of course I knew who they meant. But I didn’t assign a specific name or persona to any of them. One of my characters could be teaching a class one day and get trampled by an elephant the next. You would never want to get too attached.Was it initially tough to pitch “The Far Side” to newspapers or your agent?I never really “pitched” my cartoons to anyone. Seems to me cartoons have to speak for themselves. My goal was to see if I could get editors to just look at my work. Other than that, I stayed out of it.I did manage to sell a handful of cartoons to one very small weekly, for which I received $5 each. Aside from that, though, the few doors I knocked on were of the revolving kind. But the handful of times an editor actually did look at my work, not only did he or she not rain on my parade, they seemed to take a genuine interest in me, and ended up giving my self-confidence a boost. Then a big shot in the arm was when The Seattle Times started running my cartoons on a weekly basis. It didn’t last forever — too many complaints, I was told — but it ultimately motivated me to head down to San Francisco, where I walked through the doors (again, unannounced) of The San Francisco Chronicle, and the rest, as they say …At what point did you know the strip was a success?My own benchmark for success was pretty basic — I just wanted to be able to pay my rent. Beyond reaching that goal I really didn’t care much. I was doing something I loved, getting by, and that’s what mattered. So, in my own eyes, I think I became successful somewhere in my second year. But I’m not sure I ever quite shook the sense that the whole thing might be a house of cards. I always felt like yesterday’s cartoon was yesterday’s cartoon, and I was only as funny as today’s.And then there was “Cow Tools.”“Cow Tools” is difficult to describe, so I don’t think I should attempt it here or it could turn into an essay. But the bottom line is that it was a massively confusing cartoon. When that came out, suddenly I found myself being called by reporters and doing interviews about a cartoon with the inane title, “Cow Tools.” I think one newspaper even held a contest to see if anyone could figure out what it meant. It got kind of wild.But, in a weird way, this is how I first came to realize that there was something going on, and that there were other humans actually reading my cartoons. Cartooning is kind of a loner endeavor. You draw stuff, you mail it in, draw stuff, mail it in. Which “Far Side” cartoons are your favorites?I’ve always been more inclined to remember the ones I wish I hadn’t done. There was a time when I felt embarrassed about a fair number of them, mostly because I thought they were kind of stupid or corny. Or they flat-out tanked. But now when I look back at those cartoons, I think many of them have a kind of innocence to them, and they don’t bother me so much.As for favorites, these days I’m actually having a harder time just remembering many of them. I don’t have cause to look at them very often, and when I do it feels sort of like bumping into an old friend you haven’t seen or thought about for years. Are there any strips you wish you could take another stab at?I retroactively tweaked some captions on a handful of cartoons after they were initially published, trying to dial them in just a little better, but I almost regret doing even that. I think it’s possible to keep refining something until you’ve managed to kill it. Even the warts probably play a role. What is it like to have two species named after you?Amazing. And truly flattering. Truthfully, I think it’s officially only one species, a chewing louse that lives exclusively on owls. I believe the other one, an Ecuadorean butterfly, hit some kind of taxonomic snag. But hey, I’m honored to get the louse! I can die now. Read the full article
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subasekabang · 7 years
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Title: Anything To Make you Stay, Chapter 3 Rating: T Word Count: Total: 15,761, chapter: 1,410 Characters: Joshua, Neku, Shiki, Eri, Beat, Rhyme, Hanekoma, Kariya, Uzuki. Pairings: Josh/Neku. Warnings: Suicide, Major Character Death, Depression, semi-detailed depiction of dead bodies, mentions of ableism, one minor allusion to transphobia Summary: Joshua and Neku have been best friends since they were 11, but their friendship starts to fall apart after Joshua goes missing for a week, soon after his 14th birthday. Lies corrode the bond, and Neku’s vivid nightmares of finding someone’s dead body does not help. A year and a half later, they hit the boiling point. Always look before crossing the road, kiddos. Author’s Note: Autistic Josh and Neku! Afab demiboy Josh! Agender Rhyme! Usage of sign language! This was a fun fic to write please enjoy it.
Chapter 3:
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Players were supposed to survive, make it to the 7th day and win, not be gone by the end of the 5th.
Joshua knew things like this would happen, he knew some weeks would have no survivors. But this was his first Game as Composer, things weren’t supposed to go this bad yet. He wanted to fix this, have more Players win, not less. Not none.
The mission shouldn’t have been hard. Get to A-East from the Scramble and Erase some Noise bothering people there in an hour. Easy. Simple. He could still hear the screams from the last pair of Players as they got Erased by the Noise.
He knew he shouldn’t let things like this get to him, that he’d have to toughen up because bad weeks would always occur, no matter how many good ones also happened, or how hard he wished. But it hurt to see people he’d been cheering for get taken out like that.
That pair would’ve had a good shot at being revived, if they’d made it.
Joshua pulls himself up, standing from the throne. He can’t let himself sit there all day, wasting away. No, Neku is probably worried about him, because he hadn’t realized just how much attention the UG would demand of him when a Game ran. So he stands, drags his body to the Dead God’s Pad, before flopping onto one of the couches.
Tears fall from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks to meet the pillow. He can’t do this. He could feel their panic, the pins and needles stabbing them and ripping them apart, as they were Erased, screaming for someone, anyone to come and save them. He could’ve helped, but no, that’s not his place.
He always felt the pain of others, the Players he saw Erased, even before he knew what was happening. It struck him, deep in his chest, making him ache to help, to do anything to cure the pain, because surely he only felt a fraction of what the others did.
Josh breathes, focusing on the motions, counting out the seconds to steady himself. He’d have to block himself off, build walls to keep from feeling the pain of others. Joshua had done it before, lived his whole life keeping himself separate from others so he wouldn’t have to feel their pain, but being Composer opened up a whole new window for that sensitivity to return.
He drags his body up, fighting against gravity to sit instead of lay forever. His phone feels heavy in his hands as he pulls it out, opening up his chat with Neku.
^Hey. Another vacation I wasn’t told about, sorry. I think this is going to be a thing, these monthly week-long outings. Can I come over?^
He gets a reply almost instantly. ^Fuck your parents. Come over and hang out with me.^
Josh smiles at the message, Neku’s hatred of his parents and willingness to always be there for him. It hurts to lie about this to his best friend, to blame his parents rather than explain, but the consequences….
 Seeing Neku forget him once was more than enough, he couldn’t bear to see it again.
^I’ll be over soon. Front door open?^ he asks, as if he doesn’t already know. It’s unlocked, he can waltz right in, but it’s common courtesy to ask first.
^Yeah, come right in. I’m in my room. Mom is out on a trip.^
^Cool, alone time with you is my favorite time.^
^Nerd.^
Josh chuckles, teleporting to a few streets over. It has to feel realistic, he has to look like he walked a bit.
It takes him a few minutes to reach Neku’s apartment, but when he does, he’s up those stairs and through the door in under a minute. There’s no hesitation when he opens the door to Neku’s room, no need to knock either.
He finds Neku laying on his bed, graphite covering his hand as he works in a sketchbook, soon abandoned when he hears the noise and perks up, looking over at Josh and grinning.
“Joshua! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was worried, you know? It’s been almost a week, and you were just gone? Like, logically I assumed it was your parents, but what if something had happened to you, and I had no way of knowing?” As he speaks, Neku sits, scooting over to make space, and Josh plops down in that space.
“I know. It must’ve been worrying, and I’m sorry,” he says. “I asked if I could grab my phone just to text you, but they were already pulling me out the door. They’ve decided to put me in online classes instead of attending a school, which is nice, but that means I won’t see you as much, and these week-long trips are going to be monthly? It’s…. Frustrating. They can push and pull at me however they like and I can’t stop them.”
“It’s alright. Well, it’s not alright what they do to you, but I understand. Not your fault if I get worried after they take you away, it’s theirs. I’ll make sure to remember this if you flat-out disappear for a week though.”
Josh hums in acknowledgement, staring at the wall in silence for a moment as Neku sketches.The moments of quiet don’t last long, however, because soon Josh flips around, hanging his upper body off the side of the bed to stare up at the ceiling.
“Hey Neku, what do you think happens when you die?” he asks.
Neku blinks, looking up from his sketchbook, before looking down at him. “I dunno, really… I feel like there’s some sort of afterlife or something, but I don’t know. What about you?”
Josh smiles. “I’ve got some ideas. Maybe there’s other planes of existence, stacked atop ours. When you die, you might end up manifesting in that plane, sorta like a ghost. Or, maybe your energy, the life-force you’re comprised of, will become part of the surrounding area. It flows, feeding into the world when you die. Dust to dust, burn away in a brilliant light, a fire, leave behind ash and coal, so that what sprouts from your remains can use that fuel to grow. I think life is circular, though sometimes that circle breaks and people might stay behind, or maybe it needs to be longer, fixed, so people might get a second chance without turning to ash.”
Neku’s eyes wander as Josh speaks, even as he listens closely. “Sounds very poetic. What do you mean by the second chance?”
“I mean like, some people profess to miracles. Sometimes people die, the heart can stop beating, but they can still be brought back. Or when someone survives an accident that, by all rights, should’ve killed them. They’re getting a second chance to add to this world while alive. They can grow and help others grow, have more potential in life than death, maybe.” Josh is careful, toeing the line as he talks about this subject. If it’s all hypothetical, if it’s just an idea settled in his mind, not professed to be fact, then he can’t get in trouble.
“I like it. Maybe it’s a bit fantastical, but the idea is nice, hopeful.” Neku, looks back at his current sketch, and picks up the pencil again, resuming it.
“If you don’t stop existing after death, then that’s not so bad, is it? You contribute to the world, and it sounds peaceful.” He sits up, turning so he can lean against the wall instead of over the side.
Neku nudges him with an elbow, not even looking over, and gets him in the stomach. “Sounds peaceful, yeah, but don’t you dare go dying on me. Not allowed. I like you existing this way, where I can see you and we can hang out.”
“Of course, don’t worry. I’m not planning on leaving you anytime soon. Likewise to you. If you die, I’ll have to find some way to bring you back just to yell at you.” Josh chuckles, but he means it. His voice slips at the end, he almost wants to state that he could bring Neku back as a fact, but no, he shouldn’t say that. Neku doesn’t seem to notice the waver, at least.
“You’re my friend, you’re really the only person I can trust, so don’t worry. I would never abandon you like that.”
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frangipanidownunder · 7 years
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For Better or For Worse Part Four
This was the first fanfic I ever wrote - just as the Revival spoilers were coming out. It’s heavy on the angst.  You can read Part One, Part Two and Part Three here. Part Four She visited him in the ward every morning and evening. The medication made him sluggish and disinterested. She read him books, got him an iPod loaded with his favourite albums, took him pencils and sketchbooks, sat with him as he stared out the window at the pretty garden outside. During those months, when he mostly ignored her, she liked to imagine that beyond the walls of the hospital out there in the other world, there were people who laughed and loved and remembered good times and turned up late for work and argued with their spouses and paid their speeding fines and ate cornflakes every morning and wore ill-fitting clothes and didn’t mourn their entire families and curse secret conspiracies and miss their lost children so much their bones hurt. Her bones still hurt. Every day.
***
She sat at the table opposite him now and watched as he read, his eyes flitting across the words, his lips moving slightly, his breathing even. No doubt his brain was processing the nuances and undercurrents of whatever it was he was studying. On the table was a miniature rose, the same colour as the one he’d given her. His plant was budding, its leaves vibrant green. The soil looked moist and rich. She felt a stab of guilt when she realised she couldn’t recall the last time she’d watered hers.
He put the page down and glanced up at her. His face relaxed into a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, and looked down at the paperwork. “Another case?”
He shook his head and gathered the pages, straightening them by banging the edges on the table, then slotted them into a yellow folder. “I’m glad you came.”
“You asked me. I figured it was something important.”
“It is. It has been…something I’ve been working towards for a long time. Something personal. I…” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Just start at the beginning, Mulder.” She wanted to add, it’s just me, but she knew that would sound trite and perhaps insincere at this stage of their relationship. If that was the word for whatever it was they had now.
He chuckled. “Start at the beginning. Is that when you knocked at my door with your rabid logic and bad taste in suits or when those men abducted my sister or when they corrupted my father? Which beginning, Scully?”
She shifted in her seat. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, I’m a miserable drunk, but then you know that.” He took a deep breath. “Scully, I’m sorry for everything I said or didn’t say and everything I did and or didn’t do. And this,” he nodded to her suit. “I know I pushed you into this, into coming back. I didn’t give you a choice.” He reached over and took her hands in his. He was shaking but his skin was warm. “What I said about needing you, that still stands. I do. But I don’t want you to be here if you aren’t fully invested. I saw how you were out there in the field. I could see half of you loved it but the other half was horrified.”
“Mulder, I don’t know how many times we’ve had this discussion, but I make my own decisions. And I don’t need your apologies. This is my life, my choice.” She squeezed his hands. If nothing else, these last few months working together had reminded her of how their individual strengths increased exponentially and their individual weaknesses dissolved when they worked as a team. It had also softened the pain of the past few years.
He stared at her, eyes drilling her. “But I didn’t appreciate how tough it was for you back then. These past few months, working with you, have given me that clarity. I took you for granted. Imagined you would be there forever. Even when I made it impossible for you to stay. I can’t forgive myself for that.”
She smiled. “There’s nothing to forgive.” And she actually meant it.
He chuffed. “Then you’re more of a saint than I realised.”
“I’m no saint, Mulder. And for the record, you were wrong about one thing. Going into the field. Yes, I was horrified. But only at how easy it was for me to get back into the work again. It’s like the past fifteen years have melted away.”
He patted his stomach. “Well, for you maybe they have, but some of us are a little more solid, and a jot slower, than they used to be.”
He still looked good in his suits. And she knew he worked out. She couldn’t help but notice. “What are you cooking, Mulder? It smells delicious.”
“I made lasagne, Scully.” He stood up, chewed his bottom lip. “Would you join me for dinner?” Something skittered in her stomach. “It’s okay if you have other plans. I’ll invite all my other friends round instead.”
He offered her a lopsided grin. She couldn’t say no to that.
***
When he came home from the hospital she knew he would struggle living in the house. It was too big, too full of unsaid things, constant reminders of their lives before. She installed him in her apartment. He was a slob and all the more obvious in the confined space. But he was still Mulder, in essence. He still took his medication. He still rubbed his hands over his face instead of sharing his thoughts with her, he still jogged instead of sleeping. He disappeared sometimes, for hours at a time. She knew it would take time to get him back on track. That it would take their combined efforts. She questioned whether she had the tenacity. Every single day.
The day it all changed was ordinary. Grey and dull, midweek, paperwork and meetings at work, a salad sandwich that lacked zing for lunch. She was actually looking forward to going home, to tidying up Mulder’s messy piles of newspapers or wiping the crumbs from the bench-top in the kitchen.
“Mulder?” The place was stark silent. She looked in the bathroom and the bedroom. She checked the jotter by the phone for messages. She tapped call on her cell. “Mulder, it’s me. Where are you?” She tried to keep it light. “I was hoping you’d be back for dinner. Call me.”
He didn’t.
She found him at the house, sitting in the dark.
“Why are you here, Mulder?”
“I live here.”
“I’m worried about you being…”
“Being what, Scully? Alone, isolated? Isn’t that what I’ve always been? You can’t have forgotten the basement already.”
She turned on the lamp next to the couch. The soft yellow glow it cast highlighted the length of his hair, the grey stubble, the gaunt outline of his cheekbones. Surrounding him were sheets of paper, scattered along the floor and over the cushions.“You’ve been doing so well lately.”
“Your apartment is too sterile. It’s just you watching me surrounded by chrome and Italian tiles. I don’t want to live like that anymore.”
“I can’t stay here, Mulder.”
He turned to her then, his eyes searching her face for a reason. A reason she couldn’t articulate yet. She just knew in her bones that if she stayed at the house it would spell the end. “So, you’re leaving me.”
A year ago, Dr Scully would never have considered leaving to be the best option. But she knew now that staying was worse. “I suppose one could argue that you’re leaving me.”
He barked out a laugh. “Seems like old times. He said, she said.”
“Mulder, I don’t think us being together here will help anything. It’s this place…”
“It’s too full of memories?” He drilled her with an accusing stare.
She looked down, defeated.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Scully. You can’t look back, you’re afraid to. But I only see the past as a way of looking forward. I need to be here. I need the memories. They’re what keep me going.”
“Fine.” She turned to leave. “I’ll call you.”
*** The lasagne was cooked perfectly. The wine made her head buzz. The air between them was soft and filled with affection. She knew the alcohol was placing nostalgia over pragmatism but she was enjoying it all the same.
“There’s something else I need to show you, Scully.” He cast a swift glance at her then pulled his chin down, coy almost.
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “What is it?” Her voice was a thin whisper, barely containing the sudden nervousness she felt prickling over her skin.
He stood up and walked towards the office. “Come with me.”
She followed. She hadn’t been in his den for a long time. It scared her, opening her memory to those dark days. He must have sensed her hesitation. He turned and held out a hand to her. She clasped his with her left and he rubbed her fingers. “I know this is hard, Scully.”
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mahouproject-one · 5 years
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all my strength's blown away, with my heart i will stay | Miyu | MM Trial (re: Zoya, Mitsuo, Shino, Outa; kinda attn: Holy)
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“Zoya-chan is correct. I found her in the Ouryuu dorm not long after the executions, and she was very much affected. The next time I saw her, however, she was in much better spirits and her eyes had returned to their normal color. She mentioned having spent time with Akiyama-san.
I would like to add that Akiyama-san and I worked together to help Zhen-san. This was… a while ago? Around the time that Shizuka and I investigated the molten gold…?” She seemed a bit uncertain about the timeline. I the player am uncertain about the timeline. “The point is, Zhen-san was also freed before the mass letters went out, and it was because of my urging. Akiyama-san seemed uncertain that he could help him. I don’t think he knew the importance of giving everyone here closure. Even I wasn’t completely sure of it until the letters confirmed this was a tangible goal.”
Airi latched onto a remark Miyu said, and Mitsuo used that to call attention to himself. She could only hope he was trying to make sure they did, in fact, consider all possibilities carefully instead of just dismissing them outright. That didn’t make her any less salty.
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“Very astute, Ueno. I would like to also add that, at least a while ago, Otohiko had reason to believe that her chosen, should they get away with this, would want to find some way to bring us back from the dead to be part of their ideal world. It’s an impossible dream: She implied that trying to revive the dead that way would only bring back husks, not us.
But it’s a dream nonetheless. And one I strongly doubt you’d go out of your way for, not for everyone here. Unless you mean to say you’d bring little old me back to life?”
The syrup in her voice made it clear she thought this to be a rhetoric question.
Shino cut in, however, with something that honestly shocked her.
“...You… what? Shiraishi-san, do you not think before you do things? Do you not think before you do things like throw snowballs or flirt with men named Lickboot? Considering the whole ‘animals are rioting in the crossroads and the little one may or may want to destroy everything just to make their own happiness’ thing, do you not realize how that would sound!?”
Apparently not, considering this was the same guy that beaned Zhen with a snowball and caused a clan ghost to straight up vanish.
Miyu drew her breath in between her teeth, hissing sharply. She looked incredibly uncomfortable having to own up to this.
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“I... I apologize, for being incorrect again. And I retract what I stated earlier about the haikus. Unless someone can solidly link them to another piece of evidence, I will not bring it up again.”
So much for having any pride in being a forger. Replica notes: Shamefully shuffled back into the sketchbook.
Outa, next. Something about him implying that everyone else was oh-so-smart, smarter than him just… infuriated her. Maybe he had just accidentally, coincidentally hit a nerve that Shino had just uncovered.
“So don’t you dare put me on a pedestal like that. I’m not skilled in this, I am merely persistent. I am stubborn. And it has bitten me in the ass more than it’s helped me. You’re worried about the world ending if we get this wrong? Then help us get it right.
You want to know why I’m linking you to predatory animals? This is why.”
She threw her next memory out of the pensieve with quite a bit of force. All six members of Clan Genbu, gathered in the starting room of the golden labyrinth and inspecting their keys. The Outa in the memory spoke, drawing several questions from the others. With hesitation, he pulled up his sleeve. Faint, red bite marks were on his arm.
“You were very skilled in learning the truth about Morgan-san’s murder. I’m sure you can help out here, too.”
What happened to dialing it back? Right. She was supposed to be doing that.
Miyu turned, then, to Holy. This had nothing to do with Shino, but Miyu had suspicions in this direction, too. And as riled up as she was now, she didn’t want to forget that he existed, too.
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“I will admit that a lot of the same evidence can also apply to Holy-san. Even the dates in the art gallery. What I struggle with linking to him are the animals. Does anyone know of instances where he had some kind of encounter with a dangerous beast? Besides that time we met an angry Ushiro and then got turned into cats – that applies to too many people, and doesn’t explain the many non-feline animals.”
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