Freakin’ Bats

I write. I draw. Sometimes I share things. Follow along if you want. Or don’t. I can’t control you.

[purple-on-black]

About me:

Look, I’mma be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea how to use Tumblr, or really any online space anymore. I’m not even sure I know how to properly socialize anymore. I thought I was doing it right for years and then all of a sudden, the 20-year generational rotation happened, and all the rules changed. Now I’m too old and tired and riddled with anxiety to try to keep up with these social rules that keep changing faster and faster by the day.

I used to sit quietly and observe a group like an anthropologist until I understood the social structure and behavior well enough that I felt confident enough to integrate. But lately that doesn’t work so well. And the punishment for getting it wrong…well let’s just say there’s not usually a second chance.

I feel like a feral kitten, curled up and hiding underneath a car, watching the other members of my colony venture out to interact with these strange creatures called “humans.” Some are nice, give soft head pats and maybe even a can of tuna. Others kick them or shoot at them with BB guns. And there is zero way to know what reaction you will get. I *want* to go out there—more than anything. The tuna smells intoxicating, and at night I dream about what a nice soft head-pat would feel like, but every day I just see more and more cruelty—Some even dressing it up in kindness, laying out a can of tuna laced with poison. And I don’t know how to tell the kind people apart from the cruel, and no one gives me the same answer.

But I’m hungry. I can’t stay huddled under a fender forever. A few times I’ve tried to venture out, fear be damned, but my claws are out the whole time, I seem unapproachable even mean, then always end up fleeing back to the safety of my hiding spot before long.

So, I am once again venturing out and just…hoping I won’t end up getting chosen for target practice.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m gonna just try.

A little about me:

I love arts, especially animation. I wanted to be an animator as a kid, but school was too expensive. And truthfully, I don’t know that I would have long-term been able to handle the brutal conditions required for the industry.

I draw and write. Those are my main two hobbies. I’m not very good but I try.

I speak in metaphor, so sorry if you’re a very literal thinker—you’re probably going to have a difficult time.

I have Synesthesia. Grapheme-Color dominantly, but also Sound-Color and Personality-Color. I don’t talk about it near as much as I did when I was younger, but it does work its way into my art.

I’m sex-repulsed asexual. I revile from any sort of sex, romance, or shipping. Not an anti-shipper or anything, just don’t like it and hate how much it’s shoved in my face. (And how I’m not allowed to say I don’t like it, or else I’m an evil person who hates shippers and is probably homophobic because I don’t like being forced to scroll through thousands of bytes of fan-content of characters I happen to enjoy fucking every other member of the cast, all because I dared to want to participate in ‘the fandom.’ Nope; I don’t get to have consent, I just have to lie there and take it. …it’s almost ironic.)

The world in which I exist is one full of violence, and usually death. Often daily. And I don’t shy away from it in my arts either. It doesn’t affect me much—I’m used to it, and it’s just a fact of life—but I sometimes forget that other people don’t share these views or experiences. I try to keep things tasteful and tag appropriately but genuinely sometimes I forget, or don’t think something warrants a full tag. If you are particularly squeamish, just be aware.

Things you’ll probably see shared here:

Fallout (4, and TV show)

Hellaverse (Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss)

The Amazing Digital Circus

Teen Titans (2003)/general DC comics

Pokemon

Hurt/Comfort tropiness (sorry, it’s my specialty.)

Abandoned buildings

Some original concepts

[purple-on-black]

re: wip name tag post!

I love Christmas, so I must know what "Another Christmas Carol" is :D

A few years ago, a writing friend and I challenged each other to do a modern day retelling of a Christmas Carol. The challenge was to finish and post it before Christmas of that year. Neither of us actually reached the deadline, but I guess he won because he actually finished and posted it eventually. (In case you’re wondering, I think I only managed to get up to Marley’s Ghost.)

(Edit: Oops, I forgot part of the rules! Here’s a snippet from the WIP)

[purple-on-black]

WIP File Name Tag Game!!

Tagged by: @joannascribblesfallout (Thank You!)

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Additional rules: let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

*Book One—Spring

* Book Two—Summer

* Book Three—Fall

* Shameless Self-Insert Girl-Boss Power Fantasy

* Another Christmas Carol

*Pure Platonic Smut

*And Robin Flu Away (god I hate that title…)

(I feel like this is kinda cheating because most of these are all technically pieces of the same project. I don’t generally work on multiple large projects at the same time, and most of my other unpublished stuff is just for me and have already sat unfinished for years. Not that this stuff is super personal or anything, it just…requires a loooooooot of context. It’s like an entire fandom culture that exists solely in my head and the heads of a handful of friends that I don’t even really talk to anymore. Who knows if they even remember. I mean, I’d be willing to share some of it if interested, but it’d be like diving straight into comics-lore right in the middle of a divisive run.)

Tagging @cervus-scribe because I haven’t seen them pop up on my feed in a while.

[teen-titanz]

Robin + injured

requested by anon

[purple-on-black]

Well shit, I set down my glasses and now I can’t find them…

[purple-on-black]

An excerpt from a journal entry:

Animals need to be able to adapt. If they can’t adapt, they die. This is the way of nature. I am failing to adapt. Is that a result of my own incompetence, or am I simply in the wrong ecosystem for my species?

Does it even matter at this point, because what is the right one?

I don’t even know if I have the energy to keep searching…searching on the measly hope that *maybe* there’s an ecosystem out there where I can thrive. I’m tired, Boss…I’m so fucking tired. I’m just trying to survive and I keep failing at every single turn.

I don’t even know if it’s something wrong with me or if the world is just not set up for me anymore. I’m like a dinosaur still trying to live in a world that’s already moved on. I need to move on too—recognize that my place is now in the tar pits and bedrock. Just sit there and wait for the fossilization to do its work.

Maybe one day, thousands of years from now, my life can have meaning again. I guess that’s really the best I can hope for.

[purple-on-black]

Survival Mode

I know I should be trying to harness and channel this feeling into my writing,

But god damn it, is it so hard to pull myself out of this bed…

[gr8lakeswasteland]

I think I have at last finalized the android design and damage map for one of the main secondary characters!

Tim Heartman is the second human individual Kat travels with on her journey down the “yellow brick road” (and my favorite character in this whole damn thing. God, I love him, and I love writing him.) Tim was a cop who transferred to DPD from Chicago who ended up getting chosen for an experimental procedure. Then, before he knew what had happened, they stripped his humanity from him, turning him into an android. A highly advanced android, but an android non the less.

He can no longer feel any sensation. Every experience in life now is just data to him, but he can still remember the sensation of it all, and that in itself is its own personal version of hell. He would do anything just to feel human again, but over time has resigned himself to his lot.

(Oh, and he does wear clothing, this post is just regarding Android Anatomy.)

Damage:

Aged skin pulling away from the anchor points across his head, exposing the edge of the faceplate.

Torn right side of his face, to where his back few molars and mandible is visible. The tear continues down his neck but stops where his chestplate starts, only continuing as a small tear about 5 inches down his chest.

Multiple small age cracks and tears to the vinyl where the skin tends to fold: back of neck, shoulder, elbow, waist, hips, knees and ankles.

Left shoulder skin torn and plastic shell plating of the arm shattered. Keeps tape wrapped around his bicep so his gun doesn’t snag of any of the wiring to his arm when he pulls it out of his chest holster.

Right arm, plastic shell and skin obliterated just above the elbow. His right arm is wholly skeletal. Motions with this arm are stiff and sometimes movements jitter a bit.

Multiple gunshot holes across his body.

Small tear in the left hip, exposing the femoral ball joint and part of the plastic shell for the pelvic plate.

Large chunk taken out of the left thigh, covered up with tape.

Left foot: plastic shell broken exposing toes and a portion of the metatarsal bones.

The Android Body

The version of Android Tim is, is what is termed an “Artificial Man.” The skeleton is steel and constructed very similar to human anatomy, so that—when well maintained—its movement is flawlessly human-like and never hits that “uncanny valley” point. (When not properly maintained though, well that’s a different story. And these models are outdated—none are properly maintained.)

The power cell sits behind a protective steel plate at the sternum, which protects both it and the small emergency reset button located in the chest cavity. The battery is charged by kinetic motion, similar to an EV. Behind the power cell on either side of the chest cavity where the lungs would be are the motors to convert kinetic motion to electricity.

These droids have a thin vinyl “skin” that covers their whole body and helps with water resistance. Unfortunately, (as seen above with Tim’s damage map) it’s prone to tears over time. This vinyl skin is equipped with thermal sensors, that are able to measure between 30-200 degrees F with only about a 2 degree margin of error. However, the accuracy is known to drift so requires frequent calibration. This feature is purely for the safety of the unit, though.

Under the skin is a series of plastic plates that help keep the internal components contained and acts as extra protection from impact, etc, while also giving the body form.

The hands are the most complex area of the android body, aside from the head. Underneath the skin is a series of jointed steel bones and tendon cables, similarly constructed as the human hand. At the tip of each finger is a small textured pressure plate, which helps with grip under the skin as well as gives another line of sensory data.

Layered over the skull and anchored underneath the skin is a plastic faceplate and tiny motors/panels responsible for providing facial expressions.

The eyes are HD orbital cameras, capable of zoom, focus, and some limited night vision. The wire bundle is fed through the eye socket directly into the brain. They have a led in them that glows blue when they are powered on with a stable connection.

[lost-the-narrative]

"IT WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT!!!" i scream, desperately clawing at the floor, as the fic drags me back into The Depths to continue writing against my will for the rest of eternity

[purple-on-black]

I’m still really proud of this, and am hoping to keep it.

I guess there is no reason to try to hide it, but the main story I’ve been working on started out as a Fallout 4 fanwork. (I eventually got tired of trying to work around the pre established canon, fight my way through purists that couldn’t look past my version of the characters as different, and had a bunch of new ideas that didn’t fit into the story at hand so I decided to strip away the Fallout Veneer and just leave the story bones in place. So now it still has some of the same themes but the story, lore, and location are completely different.) I hope to be able keep this picture as a whole as the cover image with just the necessary changes, because I am really proud of how it ended up. (Plus, it was a lot of work. I was pretty much in a trance with this thing for 36 straight hours, only taking breaks for the bathroom occasionally.)

Anyway, if you follow this project, yes, some things may seem a bit familiar. And this is why. Hopefully you can look past that and see it as it’s own thing, or at the very least give it a chance because you like the character archetypes and want to see more versions of them.

Sorry for the ramble, but I’m still just really proud of this drawing and wanted to share it here.

[promptcalender]

Filler Words to Cut from your Writing

start / begin ➙ they either do or don't do an action, even if it is interrupted

somehow ➙ find a way to describe it or, if it matters that they don't know how something happened, make it its own sentence. somehow is very lackluster

that ➙ if the sentence makes sense after you remove it, do it

useless modifiers (really, very, certainly, probably, actually, quite, ...) ➙ emphasis on useless: many can be helpful, but many are not

dialogue tags ➙ don't cut them always, but you can leave them out or replace them with action tags for more variety

down / up ➙ often times they are not needed (I sat down vs. I sat)

wonder, think, realize, understand, feel ➙ especially in narration, these are signs of telling, not showing. Instead of "I wondered where he was." you can write "Where was he?"

"There is/was..." ➙ very formulaic and getting rid of as many as possible will make for more variety in sentence structures

Find your own! Every writer will have individual habits, so when you are proofreading your stuff, try to notice your own patterns. Feel free to add onto this post :)

Disclaimer: these words definitely can be very useful when they are used intentionally, especially if they are not overused. When I say to "cut" these words, I mean to question whether they are strengthening or weakening the sentence in every instance.

[Prompt Calender: July 23rd, International Yada, Yada, Yada Day]

[purple-on-black]

In the discourse about AI:

I’ve been seeing a lot of people getting bent out of shape about the fear that their writing or art will get put through AI and used to train models without their permission. Don’t misunderstand me, I am not saying people shouldn’t be angry about their hard work being taken and used in ways that they didn’t want or authorize, and the fact that this is all getting done like-it-or-not and there’s not really any recourse for it—once it’s done it’s done and there is no undoing it. I’m not at all saying people shouldn’t be upset.

However, I look at it like this:

I created this. I made this thing with my own hands and from my own brain. And I can do it all over again just as easily. *YOU* (the tech bro who calls themself an artist because they utilized my work and more or less just did an expensive Frankensteined MadLibs with it) cannot. All you have is what I have shown you, and if asked to remake it you wouldn’t be able to. Any attempt to do so would just get further and further away from where you started. It’s like the Margaret Keane story: if asked on the stand to recreate the art you claimed to have made, I could do so in front of the whole jury while you’re stuck looking like an absolute bafoon with a blank canvas. Because you don’t know the first thing about the art or what goes into it, and that’s obvious to anyone who actually pays attention.

So, go ahead. Defile my work. Rip it into pieces and tape it back together with 1000 other people’s cut up works. You still can’t recreate it. If asked what happened in chapter Two or asked why you chose a specific word you would not be able to answer. And when the grid goes down and you don’t have access to your external brain machine anymore, you will be stuck. You can’t work, there’s nothing for you to steal, and you no longer have the mental capacity to even think enough to learn how to start again. I, however, will be no worse off than I am—still able to create just the same as before.

You are no more than a mosquito to me: a small annoying parasite that is constantly trying to steal my blood. But even if you do stab me with your little proboscis, all you’re gonna get is a couple drops. My body will remake that by the end of the day. It’s annoying, and I wish I didn’t have to deal with all the AI bros flying around my face saying “I loved every word of your story and couldn’t help but think about what it might look like as a comic,” but to get angry about it would just be a waste of energy. So, I accept that this is something I have to deal with. No reason to get bent out of shape, I just swat them when they land on me and move on with my life. More pathetic than anything.

(PS, this is also a big reason I stick to traditional media for my drawings and don’t work a lot in digital. It’s harder for a computer to emulate, and I have clear and undebatable proof that I created this with my own hands by myself. There are no shortcuts in traditional media and that is its natural safeguard.)

[byoldervine]

“Write what you know” doesn’t mean ‘only write about things you’ve personally experienced’, it means ‘tether everything you don’t know to something you do know’

Not everyone will know what it feels like to get acid thrown in their face, but almost every person in the world will know what it feels like to get shampoo in their eye

Take that experience, and the actions and emotions that go into it, and big them up to cover the whole of the character’s face. Now you can write the experience of it with a bit more of an emotional understanding than just ‘it burned’

[purple-on-black]

I would like to tack on, if you choose to write something you don’t know, research it.

Ignorance is not an excuse for blatant falsehood. You are not beholden to the limited experience a short human lifespan allows—you don’t have to write *just* about things you’ve experienced personally. Human lifespans are very short, if you only write about things you’ve experienced personally, stories tend to get hyper specific in a way that only a limited few in the audience can truly appreciate. Writing is an exercise in empathy; as the author it is your job to put yourself into the head of someone else with different life experience and explain it in such a way that other people can feel like they are there too. If you choose to write about, say, a civil engineer, and don’t look into what that type of job entails, the lingo, the schooling that goes into it, it’s not going to come off as authentic. Anyone who does have experience in that world is immediately going to be kicked out of the narrative and many you might not be able to get back, just because the inaccuracies are just too strong and it’s laughable. (It’s happened to me a bunch of times—I can immediately pick out which authors have not done their research or are operating only on stereotypes for jobs or organizations I’ve been a part of, and it immediately turns the piece into a comedy of errors for me. I can’t take a single thing seriously afterwards.)

You are the author. You are not expected to live the exact life of all your characters but you are expected to create in good faith and not spread blatant lies if you can. I hate to break it to you but most of authorship is research—and listening to other people tell stories. If you didn’t live through WWII, go find someone who did and listen to their experience before you write a book based around WWII. Use accuracy beta readers. Actually put in the work to learn what you don’t know, don’t just play in your ignorance.

[sci-fi-gifs]

Fallout 2.02 "The Golden Rule"

[redd956]

Whump Prompt List: Parental Caretaker

Caretaker calling whumpee dear, baby, sugar, sweetie, champ, and anything similar

Like "Stay with me baby. You're doing great, just stay with me."

Parental caretaker guiding/encouraging whumpee with their words

"Hold on to me tight dear."

"I've got you... [Caretaker's] got you."

"It's alright. I'm here... I'm here now"

Caretaker giving whumpee permission to express their pain or cry

Caretaker hugging, holding, or cradling whumpee

"It's okay- It's okay... You did everything right..."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Caretaker patting whumpee on the back as they embrace

Drying whumpee's face with their sleeve

Lulling a whumpee to sleep. Maybe they're telling a story, humming or singing. Maybe they got whumpee a priceless gift like an white noise machine or music box, and whumpee is listening to it in order to sleep

[hauntingsbyholent]

Do better. Be better. Stop being so emotional. Don't do this. And don't do that. This list of 'Things Not To Do' is growing longer by the second.

The set of standards laid out on this list is for me, but not for you. While I cannot eat here, you may. Instead of me relaxing, only you can. The hypocrisy. The double standard. The no-nos.

Whilst I wither away, I continue to water you. Showering you, keeping you happy. Healthy. Parts of me fall away. Of course. You are above me.

Above me? Where? In height? In status? In position? Or power?

Where does 'above me' derive from? Where have you gotten this notion? Because I am a black sheep? The odd one out? The smudge on a shirt that won't wash out?

I am here. I am me. Me. Not you. Me.

I will not wilt. I will not die. I will be present. Powerful. Here. And Now.

No matter where. No matter now. I will see everything. I am the creaking of the floors as you open each door. I am tapping on the walls as you peer down the halls. The rattling on the windows as you go on tattling. The shadow that flickers past your eyes as you begin to doze.

Your list. Your standard. Your position. Your 'above me'. It is all you. You never considered me. My list. My standard. My position. Will you understand now?

[an0neemouse]

Sometimes the words don't just flow. Sometimes no matter how long you wait or what you do, it still just feels like pulling teeth. That isn't a failing on your part or a lack of passion for the project even. It's just that not every single line of your project is going to come flying out of your fingers like rainbows and lightning. Sometimes you just have to plonk one word down after another until you get to a part that gets your creative juices flowing again. And that's okay! You can always edit. Always, always, always. Just get the words on paper.