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#voidpunk
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Casey says hello!

I realized I had never properly been able to explain how Casey’s design actually works so here they are! In motion! Yeah the rainbow bits move!!!

I like how even though I kept each individual piece at the same lightness and saturation levels while changing the colors, certain colors seem brighter! It adds a nice element of motion to the color shifts, almost like the surface of their body is moving rather than just changing color!

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Highkey about to drop “nonbinary agender” and just coin voidbinary as my singular legit gender bc every time I see or hear it I feel euphoria and no singular label has ever felt that way. So my next post will be an official coining post 😌

What timing, right after I took a survey describing myself as non-binary agender 😂😂😂

Drop an F in the chat

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I abide to no societal norm, no silly conformity of any sort - I am a genderless, loveless and sexless neurodivergent being who simply wishes to be, to exist in their own way; an entity that does not comprehend the trivial norms that have been ingrained into society. A creature that feels right at home in the abyss that is the dark of the night, having no need to worry about being bothered by the flock of sheep, the flock composed of the ones that are  infatuated with what makes them human. I am part of this earth, the winds, the skies, the trees, the seas. I am made of the very same particles that float in the dark void that is space, the very particles that form gaseous clouds that then transform into newborn stars.

One day, when my time reaches its end, I yearn to be part of the earth again, to be enveloped by her welcoming warmth, to provide creatures with their much needed fuel to grow and prosper. But for now, I am contented with appreciating the awe-inspiring creatures of this earth, their wondrous way of thriving without a care, not having to fret over conformity, and enjoying their time in this world.

Perhaps the question of what makes us human is arguably the silliest of all, as it only serves to dehumanise those that dare to forge their own paths, those who exist in their own beautiful, courageous way.

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If I have to haul the voidpunk tag back to life with nothing but a free animation app and a prayer then so be it

Anyways there’s a Casey animation gif queue’d up for Monday and maybe I’ll manage to figure out how to animate Neww when he’s just a neon yellow rhombus-shaped eye floating in a gas bubble like some sort of really fucked up lovechild of Bill Cipher and a Ghastly. Maybe I’ll just make him bob up and down to a well-used tempo so people can sync it up to songs and make him dance to silly things

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mossy-manAnswer

you sit at the base of a tree in the churchyard. you await the church grim.

your whisper reaches the ears of something.


[ thank you, dear friend! the bread and tea sounds lovely.

your presence is very much welcome at the crossroads. ]


  • the church grim sees you
  • the mossy man hears you
  • the field stalker is not within range
  • the lurcher is not within range


you feel calm.

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Part of the appeal of voidpunk is, in response to being dehumanized by society, getting to say “ok fuck it, fine, you don’t consider me human? congrats I no longer identify as human. Fuck yourself sideways I am a peaceful non-human non-entity. I am the fucking void baby!” and that’s just *jazz hands giant galaxy brain hasta la vista daddy-o*

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The birth of Pixi aka I just wasted like four hours doing this in the middle of the night for no reason other than wanting to fill up my queue but the tag is dead

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mossy-manAnswer

the fields are different. you don’t know how. but they are.

your whisper reaches the ears of something.


[ pay no mind to the things that shift. nothing is as it seems.

your presence is very much welcome at the crossroads. ]


  • the field stalker hears you
  • the mossy man hears you
  • the church grim is not within range
  • the lurcher is not within range


you feel uncertain.

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You are a farmer.

You own a nice, large field that you tend to by yourself. You got it for a relatively cheap price, especially considering how fertile the soil was here, and you have been working it all by yourself ever since. You live at least an hour’s drive away from the city, far out of earshot of any neighbors. In fact, no neighbors have been near you in a while, but that’s okay. You have your plants and the rocks and the dirt and the trees and the wind to keep you company.

You wake up one starless August night under the crescent moon in a cold sweat, having had a very strange and, admittedly, a very quickly forgotten nightmare about…bees, perhaps? Something yellow and dark and numerous and dangerous. Anywho, it doesn’t matter now, it was simply a dream. Just a bad dream.

After a half an hour of lying in your bed, awake, you decide to get a mug of cocoa or your favorite type of tea, and possibly some fresh air while you’re at it. Now that you think about it, you do feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe it is for the better that you go outside and take a walk in your fields, neatly arranged by type of crop, so that you have to walk through one to get to the next, them being west of your house by circumstance. An odd little tidbit of no importance to anyone but you, which makes you chuckle for some strange reason. You make your drink and pour it into a little Thermos, and you slip on your shoes and throw on a hat as you open the door, because it is a bit nippy out, but that’s okay.

You walk through your corn, and you smell the sweet kernels growing in abundance. How you got this land for such a deal is a mystery, one that you don’t believe you have any real need to solve. At one point you feel something like a peeled-off corn husk touch the top of your head. You smile, feeling completely at peace.

You walk through your wheat, feeling the warmth of the soil and the toughness of the fallen grains mix together and seep between your toes. You smile, feeling completely at peace.

You decide to stop at your sunflowers for a while. You stop between the wheat and the sunflowers, a bit out of arm’s reach of either one. You turn from left to right a bit, being able to count each and every brown little circle looking at you like the pupil of an eye. You trace the petals of the flower closest you, needing something to do with your empty hands, and you see the plump roundness of the full moon behind it like a halo, and you feel the warmth of the soil seep between your toes, and at one point you feel something like a peeled-off corn husk touch the top of your head. You smile, feeling completely at peace.

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