HELLO CITIZENS OF TAMRIEL! I forgot how much I love drawing creatures and critters and monsters and finally got myself to draw some elder scrolls ones! I posted the apocrypha seeker one BUT I got a couple more to share too hehe :3
(Lurker, Troll, random dragon, gryphon, and scrunkly puppy Sahrotaar! ❤️)
I’m definitely gonna draw more creatures and monsters soon :3
Nature is incredible, you can really see just at a quick glance how these evolved to speak together in rhyming riddles while performing a spooky dance, laughing at you because they're The Wee Creatures Three and you will Never Get Their Key.
There’s a theory that early Europeans started saying “brown one” or “honey-eater” instead of “bear” to avoid summoning them, and similarly my friend has started calling Alexa “the faceless woman” because saying her true name awakens her from her slumber
English has an avoidance register used in the presence of certain respected animals, which sounds fancy until you realize it’s spelling out w-a-l-k and t-r-e-a-t in front of the dog.
Iceland does! They are the illhveli, literally “evil whales”, and they live to kill you. They love nothing more than killing and eating humans and sinking their ships. Their greatest enemy is the steypireydur (that’s blue whale to you), which is the greatest of the good whales and the protector of sailors.
All evil whales are, well, evil. So evil that if you speak their name at sea, they will hear it and home in on you. So instead you use all sorts of euphemisms for their names. Also if you try to cook their meat it literally disappears from the pot. That’s right, they’re so evil, you can’t even eat them.
They include such types as the hrosshvalur (horsewhale), with big eyes and a red mane and tail. This is probably the best known and most feared of the lot.
The raudkembingur (redcomb) is especially cruel and bloodthirsty even by illhveli standards. If you manage to escape it, it will die of frustration.
Good luck escaping the mushveli (mousewhale) though, it has legs! And will clamber onto the beach in pursuit!
Or what about death from above? The stökkull (jumper) leaps high into the air and pile-drives boats to pieces.
Meanwhile the skeljungur (shellwhale) sits in the path of boats and lets them get wrecked on its shelly hide…
… while the sverdhvalur (swordwhale) slices through boats with its dorsal fin.
The katthveli (catwhale) is relatively harmless though. It meows.
The same can’t be said of the lyngbakur (heatherback), a classic island fish that lets sailors get on its back and then dives, taking them to a watery grave.
The nauthveli (oxwhale) on the other hand specially targets cattle, attracting them into the sea with its bellow before tearing them apart.
How can you avoid all these murderous whales, like the taumafiskur (bridlefish) here? Any of a number of ways, including getting a steypireydur to help. There are substances, ranging from angelica to sheep dung and chopped fox testicles, that they find abhorrent. And you can distract them with loud noises and barrels.
For more, I assure you this link will answer all your questions.
my notifications are once again devolving into a spirited debate about the ethics of actions that could potentially make someone uncomfortable, and at risk of sounding like someone about to get a lot of irate anons I think we're frankly giving way too to much moral weight to hypothetical discomfort
the thing about discomfort is that it's an extremely nebulous category that can be triggered by virtually anything and that's far too broad a category to have any inherent moral quality to it. like. my mom was mad uncomfortable when I stopped shaving. that didn't mean I was doing violence against my mom it just meant she needed to get over herself. many such cases it must be said.
forget trying to explain dubstep to a victorian child, try to explain genAI to yourself from ten years ago. they invented predictive text on steroids and people take its words as gospel. ceos fully believe that glorified autocomplete can replace millions of employees and many people are fired or forced to edit machine's vomit. creative fields are in shambles, everything is slop. anyone can publicly make porn of anyone in one click, yes, including children. no, there are no consequences for that. nothing feels real. no one can apparently write an email anymore. I'd have a stroke.
Times That Copyright Expansion Has Historically Fucked Over Artists On An Institutional Level:
Sampling rights becoming prohibitively expensive to use by small artists
Musicians being forced to sign over sampling rights to their record company, making any benefits they would hypothetically gain moot.
The Digital Milennium Copyright Act leading to the vidmaker-stomping nightmare that is ContentID
The DMCA leading to making it harder than ever to preserve media due to the way it prohibits tinkering with any locks the megacorps put on it, meaning it's way easier for artists' hard work to end up vaulted and lost.
The way basic chord progressions and musical styles have become copyrightable thanks to various lawsuits by the Marvin Gaye estate
The fact that the artists of the past used to be able to remix; adapt and iterate on art made within 56 years of them, likely created in their lifetimes, and now artists can only do those things with art produced nearly a century ago by people long dead.
New and independent artists being crowded out of the market by megacorp-owned IPs that would be public domain (and thusly convey less of an overwhelming advantage-via-marquee-value to megacorps) if the US had its pre-1976 copyright laws.
Times That Copyright Expansion Has Actually Materially Helped Artists On An Institutional Level:
Horses exist in zoos, you're pretty sure. That's where they, more or less, belong. It's not like there's a stable next to the auto shop or something. Are there… wild horses? In… nature? Presumably, at some point, there must have been. Probably not, anymore.
Oh, the race tracks, though. Duh. They probably have stables. Couldn't lose twenty thousand wen a day if there weren't losing horses to bet on.
Horses don't belong at the gas station, but there's one here anyways. Its rider is wearing a leather jacket studded with old military medals; what looks like a torso-sized cogwheel, slung over her back like a shield; a broadsword, underneath the cog-shield; and a pair of holo-screen shades.
She dismounts. She slides her card through the machine. The pumps start pumping. The horse sticks out its neck, dips its snout, and begins drinking gasoline directly from the nozzle. The rider holds the spout up to the horse's mouth, at a bit of an awkward angle.
She meets your eyes, and shrugs. You know how it is.
You don't know how it is. Later, you will see her on the news, clotheslining a police officer on horseback at seventy miles per hour. You will understand even less, and also, so much more.
Out of control Edwardian youths refuse to clap at production of Peter Pan, force distraught J.M Barrie to pull out rarely seen "Tinkerbell Fucking Dies" ending
You probably know this but shitpost ruining fun fact for anybody who doesn’t:
When the play first was performed, JM Barrie et al were so concerned this might happen that they instructed the orchestra to drop their instruments and clap at this point, just in case
Children not clapping did happen too, (and some were even expected to have hissed, which was later written into the 1928 playscript and 1911 novel). But my all time favourite anecdote about it is from Pauline Chase (who played Peter)'s intro to Peter Pan's Post Bag 1909:
Children love to clap their hands at the play because then they feel that they are really part of it, and you can see them holding their hands poised ready to seize an opportunity. Their great chance is when I ask them to clap their hands if they believe in fairies, and so save Tink's life. But they are very wrathful if any one claps who has the reputation of being a cynic, and once there was quite an uproar in the front row of the dress circle because of a girl who clapped. Those about her pulled down her arms angrily. "How dare you clap," they cried, "when you know you don't believe in fairies!"
There was one dreadfully hard-hearted little boy who came to the theatre not to clap. That was his object for coming, and he came round "behind" to tell me so in the middle of the play. His teeth were firm set. "I won't clap," he said doggedly; "I'm not going to clap." And when the time came he didn't clap; above the clapping of all the others I could hear him shouting from a box, "Peter, I'm not clapping."
dededos
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
areudirty
romaincrisis
snowghoul
