Huntrix mahou shoujo girls šāØļø - art by _cheumi

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@hi-firefly
Huntrix mahou shoujo girls šāØļø - art by _cheumi
Evanescence: These wounds wonāt seem to heal, this pain is just too real, Thereās just too much that time cannot erase
12 year old me:
31-year-old me:
For the love of God, sound on.
@vensre
Sometimes āSound onā is a disappointment. This is not one of those times
Sometimes āSound onā is
a disappointment. This is
not one of those times
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
Our solar system moving through space..
Things are happening on reddit
video call
they want you to make fried rice
who is "they"
the wok left
where did it go?
Dungeon Meshi episode 21, being heavily dialogue-driven, was pretty straightforward animation-wise and let Ryoko Kui's stunning art speak for itself for the most part, but that doesn't mean that there aren't still some GENERALLY-INSIGNIFICANT-DETAILS-TO-SCRUTINIZE-AT-ARGUABLY-UNNECESSARY-LENGTH.
There was a strong emphasis on hands in this episode, particularly the second half, starting with this cut of Laios resting his on the Minotaur's snout.
The animators have taken this simple little panel (on the right) from the manga (btw, people who know more about this than I do, is there a name for this type of panel, which in film would be called an "insert shot"?)
and turned it into this highly detailed tracking shot that heightens the emotional impact of this moment for Laios. It feels very similar to the shot of Kabru bringing a piece of fish to his mouth that introduced him to the series!
The theme comes up again when Laios does a little bit of blair-witching in the corner after being rejected by house-kitty-pilled Izutsumi,
and once again a few seconds later with this added close-up of Marcille's hand when she tries to read the magical aura of the area.
This one clearly makes heavy use of reference footage, to the point that it almost looks rotoscoped until you notice little details like this line that warps unrealistically at the heel of her palm.
But with smooth, realistic motion like this, little details like that are much less important than the overall feeling of authentic shape and movement. This can be seen in a lot of Masaaki Yuasa's work, which often favors consistent motion and more frames over super polished individual drawings. Here's a thematically appropriate cut from Ping Pong for example:
(This one might actually be rotoscoped, I'm not sure)
If you pause on any individual frame, the lines look wobbly and inconsistent, but it comes together as a whole to create something that feels authentic - real.
The heavy detail in the hand anatomy and the way the skin wrinkles around the knuckles in these cuts feels like a hard departure from Studio TRIGGER's signature heavy stylization, but these realistic cuts have popped up here and there since the start of this show, and I think they fit Dungeon Meshi really well! It can be jarring go straight from wacky bombastic cartoonsmanship to realism, but while it is a show about the hungriest hungriest himbo and his family of weirdos, it's also simultaneously a show about anatomy, ecology, and the horrors of the human mindbrain.
This was expanded from an excerpt from this video where I break down the whole episode, so if you want to continue wallowing in the sludge with me, consider checking out the video!
Thanks for reading.
To-cat-ata in B by sympawnies
I wanted someone to play it as soon as I saw it and they delivered
Me, on the welcome desk in the library: Good morning, how are you today?
Customer: I have welcomed Jesus into my heart and so I am well today and every day.
Me, a little unnerved: Okay then! Is there something I can help you with?
Customer, digging around in his bag and pulling out an iPhone in a box: Unfortunately, Jesus can't help me with this fucking phone, so I came to the library.
The Library!
For When Not Even God Can Help You!
Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.
My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldnāt do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.
We couldnāt buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasnāt good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didnāt get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.
We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldnāt sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.
He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insuranceā had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.
We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didnāt approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldnāt wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldnāt even get ordered until the day he died.
Holy shit that's so cool
Finally ādo you love the colour of the skyā got compressed for our convenience
This is now my favorite photo
"oh you have an allergy? sorry I harassed you for being a picky eater, I didn't realize you had a valid reason. it's good to know you're not actually a picky eater, I still get to harass those people"
"oh you have chronic pain? sorry I harassed you for being lazy, I didn't realize you had a valid reason. it's good to know you're not actually a lazy person, I still get to harass those people"
"oh you're autistic? sorry I harassed you for being weird, I didn't realize you had a valid reason. it's good to know you're not actually a weird person, I still get to harass those people"
"oh you're deaf? sorry I harassed you for ignoring me, I didn't realize you had a valid reason. you're just not actually a rude person, I still get to harass those people"
"man why does everything have to be a disorder now? I miss the old days when people would TAKE RESPONSIBILITY for being failures and it was socially exceptable for me to harass them, now I look like a jerk when I bully people for annoying me."
(via @lazarus-lazuli )
Good news! It only took him 3 tries ššš congrats cringe husband
When I was 12 years old my mother died. I was aching and tired with grief. I would walk alone to the church to lay flowers on her grave, and another mourner gave me some change to get the bus home.
When I was a teenager my drink was spiked while I felt safe in a bar with my friends. I hazily remember being given water and cold toast, and the barman called my dad to come get me.
When I was in my 20s I flew alone to Australia. I have a fear of flying, and it took so long to get there that I saw the same sunrise twice. A stranger held my hand through severe turbulance.
Yesterday my son was screaming in a busy shop. I couldn't get him to calm down. I just held tight to him and waited for it to pass. An old man touched my shoulder and told me I was doing a good job. I've added him to my list of unforgettable strangers.
you ever just sit and realise u canāt remember 80% of your childhood? like ⦠what happened? who am i ..?
Many people in the comments are saying ātraumaā, but this is actually a very normal occurrence. Itās called Childhood Amnesia, and itās a process which, as the brain reorganizes itself for cognitive thought that is developed in late childhood, it changes the Accessibility of those memories during recall. Many childhood memories are available to the person, but they will not be remembered during regular recall activity, you have to ātrickā your brain into remembering with different tactics.
This is because there are two parts to memories - their encoding and their recall. The encoding determines their availability, their recall determines their accessibility. The reason why trauma memory and childhood amnesia are different is in this distinction. Trauma memory is often encoded differently, bypassing to the limbic system where it is stored as intrinsic memory. It canāt be recalled because it was never encoded. Childhood amnesia, however, seems to indicate that the memories are encoded, but we lose access to them as we age. This is most likely due to the development of brain structures that fundamentally change our encoding and recall of memory as we get older.
This is an important distinction, because trauma memory is āstored in the bodyā, i.e. you get triggers that send your body into a cascade of uncontrollable feelings, sensations and reactions. Whereas childhood memories wonāt generally do that, they are just recalled at odd times with odd associations.
reblogging this because Iāve legit seen people freaking out when they realised they canāt remember some of their childhood, thinking they might have some repressed trauma.