A Horizon Appreciation Page

Made to display art I got/commissioned for my fics: Hypothetically Real and Child Geniuses (Exasperated)

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Beneath the Rubble- by ASoe Art who can be found on Instagram.

Happy Holidays! With an angst piece. Oops? I love it, regardless. 10/10.

With this art is a partial chapter update!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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Kotallo leans on his remaining arm as he considers the battle map projected on the metal table. He'd planned to map out both Zenith and Regalla's activities in order to gain insight in their next move. Normally, Kotallo loves the stretch of strategy, the way clues fall together so that he may prime his attack to kill.

Not today.

His mind does not seem to want to cooperate with his plans for the day. Instead, it wanders onto the subject of his commander. Commanders. Both commanders.

He’d been at Chief Hekarro’s side since almost the beginning of the Chief's glory. Out of the current Marshals, he had the most seniority. Even before the ambush, Kotallo was the one who knew Hekarro-the-Chief best. From the first Kulrut until now, Kotallo’s learned many things about his role as a Marshal… and about his commanding officer’s role as a leader.

Kotallo admired the man, then and now, both for his gift for combat and his goal of peace despite of the glory he could have had. Or, perhaps his goal of peace is because he knows what combat and conflict brings. Glory... and suffering.

Though, Kotallo supposes the position of Chief and Guardian of the Grove is glorious enough.

What Kotallo truly admires, however, is the way his commander handled the weight of leadership.

Far from prying eyes, Kotallo watched as Hekarro allowed himself to bend under the weight of handling the clans. Kotallo does not judge. If it was him handling Tekotteh, let alone the rest of the clans and the Carja, the clans would most likely have been decimated. Yet, Hekarro leads with both strength and patience, yielding and standing firm when necessary. Then, in his private moments, with or without his Marshals, he allows himself a small moment of weakness, of rest. Of bending beneath the weight of responsibility.

But Hekarro did not- does not- allow it to break him. He bends. He hangs his head, heavy and aching from his crown, and slumps against the plant covered walls of the Grove. And then he gets back up.

When Hekarro has had his time to process, Kotallo watched him pull back his shoulders and settle back into the mantle of leader. Kotallo watched as Hekarro lined his spine once more of machine metal and rouse strength to his posture in order to keep going. To keep moving, to stand up when all is weighing you down is true strength. To deny the temptation of rest in order to protect and fight is something everyone struggles with. It is a hard lesson, to learn with grace. Kotallo has learned and learned well. It is a strength that Chief Hekarro possesses. It is the kind of true strength that the Ten were known for.

And that is the driving force of Kotallo's loyalty. Yes, Hekarro took him in when his clan casted him out- exile hidden behind a veneer of honor- and that had netted Kotallo's service. Yet it is the kindness, the solid sight of the back of his chief as he protected the clans from enemies and themselves, and the steel that lines his spine as he cuts enemies down is what secures Kotallo's unwavering loyalty. It is what secures his return, it is why he allowed himself once more to be a spear to be pointed.

Aloy, too, has the same grit and sheer will behind her every move. The same ability to bend the world to her commands, to her beliefs. Her battle seems never ending. Kotallo respects that. She fights like she's been taught nothing else in her life. She, as Erend would say, kicks ass. She kicks everyone's ass, the enemy's, his own, machine ass. She even, Kotallo thinks as he tips his head upwards to hide his smirk, kicks her own ass.

But... She fights like Tenakth. Something he did not expect to find in the reclusive Nora. Soft, he had thought those from the east.

Aloy had proved him, and everyone else who had ever doubted her, wrong. She proved a whole clan wrong, when she tore the Bulwark down with the ease of someone who's pulled off the impossible so many times that 'impossible' only means 'harder'. Hair like fire, heart like hearth, fight like a blaze. Firestorm. Aloy, who is easy-going (not that he can say much, Kotallo knows he's anti-social even amongst other Tenakth) until she isn't. Calm, unsuspecting, until she isn't. People tend to underestimate her. They see the colors of the Nora, the soft, deer-like pelts she wears, and think that is everything she is and will ever be. Until she slits their throat with a skilled hand and a sharp blade. Until she destroys the wall his clan had believed unbreachable for centuries and essentially slapped Tekkoteh's face with... a boulder. Multiple boulders. Aloy spat in the face of doubt and took out its knees with her spear.

His new commander has a penchant for the impossible.

Then again, people had said uniting the Tenakth was impossible and Hekarro pulled that off too.

Kotallo glances away from the map, eyes still adjusting to the focus hub of information. He looks at the schematics for an arm, a strange mixture reluctance and hope swirling at the pit of his gut.

Perhaps Aloy would be amenable to performing another minor miracle...?

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Elisabet: Would you love me if I was a worm?

Tilda, already building a worm habitat in case her science girlfriend pulled another science stunt: probably idk

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EVERYONE, I AM PERISHING IN MY SEAT RN. THIS IS A PIECE I HAD COMMISSIONED OFF OF THAT ONE POST I MADE AND IT’S SO PERFECT. Also, Elisabet in a suit is everything I never knew I desperately needed. Maybe Tilda made her that mug? Ceramics is an art I would see Tilda indulging in.

Credit to: Punnt’s Art, the first artist I’ve commissioned for my fic, “Hypothetically Real.” I adore her style so much. She’s a pleasure to work with, 10/10 would always recommend.

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Vanasha, who is stronger than the lashes scarring her back. Vanasha, who aided Meridian in the shadows as the shadow of a young Sun.

Drawn by: @cissismeia on instagram :)

10/10 recommend!

ALSO SHE HAS A SIX PACK AND I HAVE A GIANT CRUSH ON HER.

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What Aloy saw before she passed out in chapter 7. Aloy sees the image of Rost making the same exact expression that Elisabet is: terrified, not for themselves, but terrified for Aloy. Also shock and horror at the serious injury Aloy is sporting. They both very much want her to survive.

A commission I’ve been looking forward to for weeks/way before I finalized the chapter!

Illustrated by the amazing Punnt’s Art who was the first artist I had ever commissioned for Hypothetically Real.

Once again, impeccable work. 10/10 recommend (as you can see, I’m a repeat customer)

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Me, replaying HWF and casually watching characters die and enjoying the scenes again to the fullest, not giving a single care to whatever horrible endings there are

Also me: skips the Gemini cutscenes because I bawled like a baby the moment I started the quest and talked to Varl

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Playing Tilda’s Art Tour again and I have so many feelings about the first piece of art, Vermeer’s Woman Reading a Letter, and the forgery. It’s not only indicative of how Aloy sees things, it’s also how deep Tilda’s wounds go. All she wants is the original, Elisabet, but when she gets a copy, Beta, she doesn’t feel the same things for her because they aren’t the same. Like how Vermeer wasn’t lauded as a great artist, Tilda believes she didn’t cherish Elisabet enough when she was alive. No matter how many copies she’ll see, Aloy included, it will never be Elisabet. And yet, she keeps both. And yet, Tilda hangs onto both Aloy/Beta and the memory of Elisabet in hopes of ever reaching the original.

Also, her discomfort with the Cupid painting, yeah. And the “boy in the hood.” Tilda apologizes to Aloy bout Varl but it doesn’t seem like she feels very… real? I mean, in the form that she only cares about Aloy, yes, that’s true. But Varl? No. Anyways I love the introspection Tilda’s teaching her and also inadvertently revealing to Aloy. It’s also why I think Tilda was so disappointed with Beta, because she wanted introspection and Beta hasn’t had enough life experience, any true thoughts of her own when they made sure she only knew what the Zeniths wanted, and Beta probably would have come across as just an empty copy (which she isn’t, those fucking Zenith bastards).

ANYWAYS I HAVE FEELINGS

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Beta having her first birthday party with the people who love her that would make me cry 😭

The mom and sister special coming up!

this equals happy tears from Beta.

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THIS IS PERFECT.

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Teenager Elisabet, getting her PhD.

Teenager Elisabet, being a teaching assistant.

Teenager Elisabet, surviving on absolutely zero sleep, three shots of espresso with a can of Red Bull as she revises and writes her thesis for the third time.

Teenager Elisabet, giving her dissertation to a board of well known people who would later work with her on during the Clawback Era.

Teenager Elisabet coming home for the holidays and helping out on the ranch and video calling people.

INTERN ELISABET BUT SHE’S NOT OVERWORKED BECAUSE CHILD LABOR LAWS ARE A THING.

GUEST SPEAKER ELISABET IN A SNAZZY OUTFIT AND A GIANT, JITTERY CUP OF COFFEE TALKING TO COLLEGE STUDENTS HER AGE.

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Headcanon time: Aloy is a massive foodie. Idk she kinda just has that energy.

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I hope that somewhere out in the Horizonverse, there is a surprisingly intact stained glass mural. I hope that Aloy might find it at just the right time, when the sun rays hit it just right, and she’d be able to stand there immersed in vibrant colors and just get a chance to truly relax.

I was just reminded of a fond memory where we had to tour a bunch of churches in France. I was not enjoying the tour at all, I mean they’re lovely but to a kid, you see one really big cathedral, you’ve seen them all. And then like three churches in, I remember being really bored and stifled and then I looked up and boom there it was, this huge mural (window?) of stained glass in so many different colors. It was amazing. It quite literally stole my breath away. The way the sunlight hit the mural was indescribably beautiful. It wasn’t a picture of anything, I think, it was just a regular stained glass cathedral window.

Anyways, I think Aloy would love it. The vibrant colors and how breath taking it can be and how much history and knowledge it holds. She’s not religious and neither am I, so the whole religion part probably wouldn’t appeal too much but just the beauty of it and the things the glass had lived through would delight her to figure out and read about.

Fun fact, the oldest stained glass murals/windows (that are intact and more of what we consider as stained glass) are the Prophet Windows in Ausburg Cathedral in Germany.

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If you think about it, HZD and HFW is just people telling the Sobecks that they can’t do something (that would help other people/the world/ themselves) and then just going “bet.”

People learn to either help or get out of the way real quick.

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When you realise the newcomer who's helping you is a fiery, explosion-loving maniac gremlin who isn't scared to blow up everything for her mission

[angelsmile28]

Commission done!! Thankyou for commissioning me🫶🫰

Open commissions. Dm me!!

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I commissioned Zoro for a friend and got inspired! This is the art/artist!

The East Blue is quite calm compared to the Grand Line’s inexhaustible turbulence. The waves seem to welcome their travelers, storms easy to traverse and birds cawing sweetly as ships are brought to a slow, gentle stop at the docks.

Aloy finds herself on a large dinghy, though it’s nothing that should not could have reasonably withstood the clutches of the Grand Line. And yet, it did. There sits Aloy, red-headed and sunburnt but perfectly intact.

Her mothers’ spirits had gifted it to her, once she became grown enough to set sail, and the dinghy flew above the waves and weaved around sea beasts with startling ease. Aloy doesn’t think she’d ever leave this boat behind. There is something that lays in the wood, for her mothers we’re not shipwrights. Inventors, sure. But not shipwrights.

Regardless of Aloy’s musings on the mystical nature of her small vessel, she’s quickly distracted by the business of docking. There aren’t any fees, thank GAIA, but Aloy is still wary of the quiet marine town. She knows better than to underestimate tranquility and silence for harmlessness. The huntress eases her bow onto her back, spear already strapped. Her more obvious weapons- glowing, marked bombs of clear Grand Line quality- are hidden beneath her leathers.

She quickly walks through the town, swinging through a tourist shop for a map. It’s small, it’s sleepy, it’s maintained by “Ax-hand Morgan.”

Aloy eyes the crumbling infrastructure dubiously. No, she doesn’t think that this Ax-hand Morgan maintains squat.

“Ah, are you new in town?” The shop owner asks her, a hint of nervousness leaking into his demeanor.

“I am. Can you tell me more about this place?” Her focus shines as it takes in the information she’s gathering.

“This… If you’re a pirate, you might want to get out soon.”

Aloy looks down at her clothes… and then looks back up.

“I’m… not a pirate?”

“Oh-oh, you must be a pirate hunter! My apologies-!” Despite his apologies, he still looks doubtful. However, he gives Aloy the information she wants. And then some. From there, she learns about the tyranny of Captain Morgan, his idiot son Helmeppo, and Zoro.

She also learns about how the market and its people suffers whenever Morgan decides he wants something in order to pander to his ego. How there are people struggling to make a living, as the marines take what is there’s in return for a pittance of what they should have received.

“It’s not that- that the rest of the marines want to do it. A lot of them- they’re our kids, you know? But Morgan-!” The man scrubs his face. “They join him, in hopes of giving the rest of us an easier time.”

“Sounds like Morgan needs to go.” It wouldn’t be that hard. She’s taken down a couple of tyrants on the way here. It’d be easy, since she doesn’t have to stick around to ensure they have a method of survival. If what the shopkeeper says is true, the current ruling method will do fine if she just gets rid of the tyrant.

“Thank you, for the warnings.”

“Of- of course.”

She buys the things she needs, dumping a large amount of berries onto the man’s counter and ignoring him when he tries to hand her back the money.

This is all she can do for now, until she figures out how to remove Morgan. Walking into a marine base and offing their leader right out front is not anywhere near her style.

Though she is ready to take care of him, permanently, if necessary. But the marines being after her would be annoying, but unless they send a vice admiral or above, she can handle them.

Aloy investigates the town, speaking to random people on the streets, and that’s when she hears it.

“MEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!”

Her head whips towards the sound, her mostly pulled back observation haki pinging at the sheer potential that laid in the shining presence on the street.

“Lu-luffy! Wait!”

Luffy.

That’s who she’s meant to find. That’s who her mothers had sent her after. The straw hat dangling at his back beckons, a flash of similar red hair and scarred face sparking at the back of her mind. She slides behind them, ordering something at the bar as the two talks. She can see Shank’s influence as clear as day.

She wonders if he’s going to do anything about Morgan. Maybe, she’ll watch him for a while. To see if he’s worthy. Someone with that bright of a presence… should be a good person.

But Aloy’s been fooled before. So she’ll watch.

(Her Haki knows better. This is, after all, her new little brother.)

Aloy perches on top of Morgan’s gaudy gold statue, chipping off pieces as the fight happens below. She notches an arrow as Koby gets taken hostage but relaxes when Luffy jumps in.

Her dinghy stealthily follows Luffy, somehow understanding her wishes to observe this new King.

They help the dog. Aloy approves, even as her arrows explodes the Buggy Cannonball before it destroys more of the town. Her sense of approval grows even more, satisfaction purring as the baby pirates rob the Buggy Pirates blind and leaves some for the suffering townspeople.

Mihawk nods at her as the galleon is split from his drama queen tendencies. She rolls her eyes, and dives in the waves to pick up Luffy.

Sanji the cook walks past her to bring his captain to rest. A far cry from his simpering attitude when she ate at the Baratie earlier. Good.

“Who the hell are you?”

Aloy tosses the package at the green haired swordsman, who sits slouched as his injuries threatened his state of consciousness. He catches it with a hand, turning the package over curiously. She’s glad he didn’t chop it in half with his blades.

“I’m Aloy. This is from Rika, at that marine base.”

He flares at her suspiciously. She sighs. “Open it or don’t. You should probably lay down before those stitches tear.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growls at her. He stares back, unimpressed. “Rika will be happy to know her package got to her friend before he died.” Aloy pointedly says. He grunts but acquiesces.

When they get Nami back, Aloy takes great pleasure in spearing some fish and some marine animals. Disgusting. Aloy steps to Nami’s side.

“You’re not alone,” she tells Nami. It’s something Aloy is realizing herself.

“Not anymore,” Nami murmurs back.

“Yeah. Us fellow red-heads have to stick together, you know?” Her grin is sharp and quick.

“Yeah. Who are you, anyways?”

Before she could introduce herself, Luffy does it for her.

“That’s Aloy! She’s crew!” He’s all bright grins and sunny faces.

“I have a crew of my own. But we can be ally’s. The future King should have allies.”

“Allies are crew!”

“Well, can’t say no to that.”

[kiddraws12]

Been a minute since I last posted here

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This is Fine!

Pt. 4/4 of commissions- drawn by the wonderful @fumikaandy08 on instagram! Drawn on a phone, which is still mindboggling to me.

10/10 would recommend!

Along with this art is a chapter update!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works