Some writing and art posts if you squint, but more so reblogs and interacting with mutuals these days. If you see me posting about a fandom you enjoy and you wanna chat, please feel free to! ^^
Time to be the change I want to see in fandom by introducing my Regent headcanon: he can understand the Defect. It's not just beeps and boops to him, it's actual language. Naturally, this has led me to imagine quite the humorous scenario:
Defect: curious beeps (something something "What's your friend's name?" referring to Osty, presumably while the Necrobinder isn't looking its way)
...
Regent:
Regent: Ex-CUSE YOU, Lich! Are you deaf, perhaps? Unfamiliar with the phrase 'speak when spoken to'???
Necrobinder: And just who am I meant to be speaking to? It's not like I'd miss one of your questions, as obnoxious as you are.
Regent: I am NOT—! Ahem... The construct has an inquiry for you!
Necrobinder: Be honest. Does it look like I speak construct?
Regent:
Regent: YOU DON'T???
This is followed by him taken ABACK that all intelligent life on Preon doesn't speak the same language (since I presume struggle-free Starris over here wouldn't have things such as language barriers lmao), which leads him to question if the Silent and Ironclad are unable to understand the Defect as well. This goes about as amusingly as it sounds (considering how little those two speak), ending with:
Necrobinder: Oh well. Guess you'll have to translate for the lot of us.
Regent: Who, me???
Regent: Absolutely NOT! Such a task is beneath royalty!
Defect: sad beeps
Regent: N...no need to frown, construct! They're merely missing out!
Necrobinder: (What on Preon does he mean by "frown"???)
Defect: more sad beeps
And then he takes it upon himself to translate anyway LMAO
also if anyone wants the evidence used to support this headcanon, it's under the cut (with pictures!)
but beware, the yapping is intense... Monologue level (the Regent card), even
Think about it: the Regent is an alien from another planet that still understands and communicates with those native to Preon quite effortlessly.
Now, to my knowledge, it is only the Ancients we really see him hold a conversation with, which isn't exactly a fair measure to base this on when they might have their own cosmic ways of communicating (ironically, the Defect is evidence of this, seeing as they seem to understand it just fine while we, the players, mostly can't)
To counter this, however, I propose the epoch We Need a Hero! I can only imagine the Regent would learn of the trouble the Spire is causing via word of mouth (given how much he loves to talk), and I doubt he'd be able to gain the depth of understanding mentioned in this epoch if he hadn't spoken to the commonfolk
Moving onto the Defect's epochs, we see it actively speaking to its friend Flaw. Not just inquisitive beeps. Not just <3 emoticon (we love you Defect and Darv). But actual, proper dialogue shared between the two constructs (albeit only 1 word each)
And once again, the Ancients also seem to understand what the Defect is saying beyond beeps and boops, which is proof enough that those beeps and boops are speech of some caliber
Back to the Regent, it's clear he's at least familiar with complex machinery (as seen in the epoch Anomalous Planet pictured below)
Now... does that mean he's any good at operating machinery? Debatable LMAO. But! Perhaps he doesn't have to be! Just as plenty of people can speak intelligently but still struggle to spell the words they often say, perhaps our dear princeling studied enough tech on his home planet to understand it intimately! His, uh... technique, we'll call it, just needs some work when it comes to using it ^^;
(never let this man mend your resident Defect at rest sites)
Now, all of this is not to say there can't be sentiments that are lost in translation. Far from it when the Defect is, well... defective in its messaging at times, as seen in the beautiful string of text below you can get in the Aroma of Chaos event. Couldn't get it to translate into much of anything at all, by the way. Here it is:
1100 0011 1100 0011... repeated 3 times. Just in case any of you wanna knock yourselves out running it through a bajillion decoders like I did.
(interestingly enough, the most sensible conclusion I came to for it is that it translates to ÃÃ, aka the Latin A or the tilde A according to some websites? Idk, it's been a long trip down the rabbit hole, and I also know nothing about coding so I could be completely wrong abt this, but it can basically be summed up as some kind of encoding issue, orrrr... a placeholder—something we sts2 fans aren't unfamiliar with huh :P)
I'll let google take it away from here (boo, AI summary results, I know...)
So basically what I'm trying to say is there's a good chance the Defect is Portuguese /j
ok so, I approached my local library with a proposal to donate a mural as a way to A: build portfolio/gain practical experience and B: give back to a beloved public institution. The director was very enthusiastic about it and i've been working on it since the beginning of March. Come with me as I endeavor to paint what is in all honesty an excessive amount of birds
I wanted the birds to look like they were actually in the space so first thing after doing the draft was to do a lighting study
after that I covered the walls in letters in lieu of a projector/vr headset bc i have neither of those :) Then i take a picture of the section of wall and superimpose the lineart over top of it so I can pencil in the lines
et voila
and that was a whole week on it's own so next comes the paintin' >:)
my chains are broken i am FREE. although i did have a great deal of fun with this, the barring on the wings itself took me like four days and i am READY to move on
this was a week and a half of continuous work so please excuse me for getting a little emotional in the bg 🙏
BIRD NUMBER 10!!! The Male Mallard Duck, Anas platyrhynchos
the male and female ones are gonna be posted separately bc they're taking a lot longer lol but yea! super happy i was able to capture the iridescent green of the head, i found metallic green and blue paint at a craft store that really made his head POP. it looks better in person i promise
ALSO!! As this is the 10th one, BIG announcement. The end is in sight!!!!! I plan to finish within the next 3 weeks and there will be a small dedication ceremony/ unveiling happening at the library to commemorate its completion on the 16th of May. If you live in the Western New York region and want to check it out for yourself shoot me a dm!
Also thank you everyone for your kind words and support throughout this whole process, it's been a genuine treat thinking there are potentially thousands of you out there cheering me on while I paint this 🥹
we're movin right along with bird numero 11!! The lady Mallard!! Anas platyrhyncos
the 16th is looming in the distance so i'm trying to get thru these as quickly as i can so i can have as much time for the GBH as possible. i still need to do the names next to all of them so i've got about a week and a half to finish everything which is GREAT because i have adhd and nothing gets my ass in gear like a fuckin deadline, let me tell you
power couple that they are, here's bird number 12 and 13,
the Northern Cardinals, Cardinalis cardinalis
and NOW that they are complete, ITS GO TIME, in the next five days (library's closed for mother's day 😭😭) i need to have the GBH fully rendered, the names of the birds vectored, weeded, masked, applied to the wall, and then painted, plus additional cattails throughout. I may be able to get away with just getting the GBH done in time for the unveiling and then just have the names and cattails added later, but i'm gonna really try to get it all done in time. BUT, i have a plan. Part of why i take so long on these is because i really am just figuring it out as I do it lmao. there have been many a time where i am sitting on top of the ladder googling "how to paint birds" but I think if i take the time tomorro to do all that figuring out how to approach it beforehand, this will go a lot faster. I may also recruit some of my artist friends to help with the placing of the names... hrmm we'll see.
Anyways, shout out to the librarian who tracked down exactly the thing i needed so i could figure out where to place the highlights in my birds eyes, ur the real mvp
thank you to everyone who reached out or got excited about this project, it genuinely gave me the fuel i needed to keep going. In total, the 480+ total hrs it took me to cover this wall pales in comparison to how long its expected to spend on there, hopefully imparting a sense of beauty and love for the natural world to the next generation and here's hoping i'm only getting started with these.
A friend of a friend of mine has a family member who just survived cancer! I just donated myself, so if you have the means to help her out with the medical bills even just a little, it'd be greatly appreciated! <3
Hello! Thank you so much for taking a look into my story. My na… Noah Carroll needs your support for Please Help Me Rebuild after Cancer alm
its an altered version of this green fireflies one
im really proud of this for no reason all i did was change the colors but anyways you guys should still reblog if you use it definitely id be very happy :)))))))))
edit: oh my god fine. it's not copy and paste anymore fine okay?? here's the link to github. for fuck's sake guys 😭
edit 2: here's a post tut i made on how to use these!
TL:DR I do not want to cancel the show, I don't want it to cancel me.
So I have been forced, basically, to make this statement as I am being asked about this character or 'introduced' to it (and the incoming new show) against my desires. I have deleted all previous posts about my encounters with this problem long ago for personal reasons that will be apparent, but people don't know about my situation and do deserve an explanation. I will keep this post short for my own mental health. This is the first time I have disclosed any of this information to the public, and it is hopefully the last. My silence has been a part of my uncomfortable situation, but it's clear the world won't let me try to just ignore it any longer, so it's full disclosure time.
1, Yes. I know about Mr Puzzles and his uncanny resemblance to RGB, my character from the on going comic The Property of Hate, who pre-exists Mr Puzzles by approximately ten years.
I did not, as a consequence, base RGB off Mr Puzzles...
2, I have received very violent and manipulative hate mail from fans of that character over the past few years due to this similarity, many threatening to slander me via cancel culture to discredit my own creations. The worst of these messages almost caused me to commit suicide which close friends can attest to (this period coincided with the death of my father which they used against me to full effect).
Since then the hatemail has been less frequent, but continues, and I am afraid it will pick up again with the advent of this new show.
3, I have contacted the smg4 management about these issues, to no avail. My first email was a request to tell their followers to cease sending me hatemail, which they did not attempt in any way. They have never responded to the large overlaps in terms of RGB's design, and when I finally sent them an email via a lawyer as a last resort (which cost me £4000) they did not respond. Please note that I did not ask for a cease and desist, I only wanted the hatemail to stop, and perhaps for them to alter Mr Puzzle's design very slightly to be a little less like RGB's. I even made this simple suggestion as an example:
Despite going out of my way (against the lawyer's wishes) to phrase the letter in a none-hostile manner, and offer them an alternative, they did not reply to this email at all.
I am a disabled indie cartoonist; I do not have the money to take further legal action, and in any case I do not want to. I hate conflict, and the emotional toll of sending that email alone was enough to make me miserable and exhausted for months. All I want is to be left alone, and for people to know that RGB was invented first. I cannot afford to do anything to protect myself or make anyone listen legally; this post is the most I can do, and it is the only post I intend to make about it.
that's it. that's the whole situation. please do not message me about the show, or the character, as both are very distressing to me: if you do I will either delete the message, or block you, depending on the angle. I have blocked all related tags, and I will unfollow if I see posts, so I am doing everything I can to take care of myself in a non-aggressive fashion. I have only made this statement so that people understand.
a small example of some of the hatemail (which was preserved only to be sent to the makers as evidence which, again, they did not respond to) below the readmore. read at your own discretion, it is unpleasant.
soulmates: everything drawn across your skin gets reflected on another’s
You've decided that you don't like your soulmate very much.
At the newly turned age of 10, you went to sleep that night feeling like the world was at your fingertips. Double digits, you heard thrown around. It felt special, you felt special.
The next morning, as you woke up and went into the bathroom, you found your face streaked in a cacophony of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. Horrible squiggly, fat drawings of stars and mustaches and playing cards and dogs.
That day was when you discovered what it meant to have a soulmate. As well as the fact that no matter how hard you scrubbed, you would not be getting the marks off until your soulmate decided to.
Holding back angry tears, you grabbed the nearest marker and drew the meanest face you could imagine into your forearm until your skin chafed. Refusing to remove it until your face was yours again.
You watched in the bathroom mirror as the last of the drawings faded. Transfixed by the process of it all—the way you could trace the path of your soulmate's hands as they cleaned—you stood in slight wonder.
Until you noticed your drawing being painted over to resemble a clown.
The sight filled you with an annoyance you've never felt before.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
Besides the fact that your soulmate is a fan of dramatic introductions, they're also incredibly persistent.
It's been explained to you that drawing across the skin to connect with another's means it was purposeful. Your soulmate had to be thinking of you for the marks to transfer.
For months following the initial incident, everything from cartoon animals to ridiculous expressions to random shapes and colors pops up over just about every inch of your arms and hands. Sometimes even across your knees. And they just wouldn't stop. Every day, without fail, you'd find something on your skin, like clockwork.
From a more grown-up perspective, it could've been seen as sweet. For someone to keep reaching out with such uninhibited desire towards this connection. To want to show you everything and anything they could think of.
But your younger self wasn't impressed. So, for a time, every playing card provoked some sort of Pavlovian response that made you aggravated.
While all the stories you've heard were of sunsets and flowers and rainbows, you were stuck with weird mutant creatures and basketballs. And clowns, against your wishes. Clowns made a frequent appearance.
Though you were annoyed and angry at your worst, you ignored it. Ignored the drawings until they went away, never deigning to respond. Surely your soulmate would stop after noticing your continued silence.
Instead, one day, while sitting at your desk to work, you were startled by the sudden shock of red, bleeding marker scrawling atop your hand.
A sad face.
It left you a bit shocked, then ashamed. Before remembering what they did to your face. So now they're upset, after months of being ignored. Just because they weren't getting any attention.
You went back to work, steadfast in your protest.
But then it appeared again, but on the other hand, even bigger with tears running down its face.
They were persistent, you reminded yourself, but you just needed to hold out.
Then they spread, like an infection. The sad faces started blooming across every possible inch of skin you had.
It was crazy, so incredibly overwhelming and childish that you grabbed the nearest marker and ran to the bathroom for a mirror. You took that marker and went to town. Cat whiskers, swirls, a goatee, glasses. Anything you could think of went on your face with intent. Thinking of the faceless individual currently pettily vandalizing your arms, possibly parts of your legs.
By the time you were done, feeling strangely settled, you looked down at yourself.
There was a heart in the middle of your palm. Where the sad faces couldn't touch, colored in. It was tiny, but it looked so carefully made. Like they had taken the time to make sure the lines were clean.
You stare at it, then look up again.
You're a mess, so much red across your arms it might as well be your new skin color. And your face. It might just rival your other half's previous work.
Your lips twitch into a smile you're hesitant to allow. But then you're laughing until your cheeks hurt. Tears prickling the corners of your eyes, chest heaving between each gasp for air.
Once you can stop, you reach for a washcloth, intent on washing your face. But then you make a split-second decision. You take your marker and make three other hearts near the first, turning the drawing into a four-leaf clover.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
Your relationship to your soulmate changes as much as it doesn’t. You no longer hate them, but god are they annoying sometimes.
Waking up to smiley faces and roosters, going to bed with sheep lining your wrists. It’s still as endless as before.
Except now, during your most idle moments, you’ll grab a pen and start drawing. Thinking about your soulmate doing whatever it is they do. Maybe on a court playing basketball. Maybe lying down to go to bed. Maybe doing homework like you.
You’d always get a response.
Until one day, there aren’t as many.
You think you’re being paranoid at first. Brushing aside your initial anxiety over only one of your arms containing doodles.
You’re both growing up, you imagine. Things can change, you try to remind yourself.
Even though they might not appear as often as they used to, somewhere deep within your very being, you have started to be able to know when they do.
A tingle across your wrist, a sudden splash of warmth over your knee cap. Little indicators that shouldn’t have meant anything, but to your experienced soul, you knew better.
It’s not like it used to be, but it’s steady regardless.
Then they stop altogether. No warning, no lead-up, just nothing.
The first day, you’re concerned but choose to brush off the worry. The next day you feel conflicted, but push on anyway. It’s on the third day that you pick up a pen with shaky fingers. After a moment’s hesitation, you settle on drawing a cat waiting at a door on your forearm.
It takes until the next day, when the ink has naturally dimmed from your skin, that you see his response.
On the other side of that door, a couch. Filled with two people, a guy and a girl, side by side, arms intertwined.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
Some people become painters for the sole purpose of talking with their other half. The most renowned of the Renaissance painters have contributed their success to their endless desire to display nothing but the most beautiful depictions of art to their soulmates.
Van Gogh suffered from the years of silence at the other end of his void connection, filling every inch of his skin with colored melancholy that led up to the conception of the Starry Night.
You think about him as you stare at your barren flesh. Wondering if you should paint your arms in blues and yellows, hoping he’ll see and feel sorry for what he’s done to you. Can tattoos be shared if you learn how to do a stick and poke?
You shake your head, appalled and disgusted by your own impulsive thoughts. You know you'd never go that far. Yet you still feel gross, overflowing with a jealousy you're not sure you should have. It's not abnormal for soulmates to never find each other, or for one to date someone else in between. It shouldn't matter what they do, you try to tell yourself. They may be yours, but only in theory.
You don’t want to be the villain, but you’re starting to feel like one. Hoping, as you are, that the person on the other end of their arm knows how the two of them are not destined to last.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
You wake up to an open door on your arm.
It's been months of unmarked skin, barren canvases, blues and yellows.
You stare at it until your vision blurs.
Eventually, you pick up a marker and draw a dead rat. Dozens stacked and placed in front of the door.
No cat in sight.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
Your one regret, you think as you wake within a velvet inlaid coffin and into a world beyond your wildest imagination, is that you should've forgiven them sooner.
And so, before Dire Crowley leaves you alone to the dank, decrepit remains of a long-abandoned house, you ask him for a marker.
That night, you draw a cat, then another, then a dozen. As many as it takes for your hand to start cramping.
You stay awake until you can no longer. By the next morning, there's still no response.
You lock yourself in a bathroom to cry until a ghost has to comfort you. And your new talking cat begs for food.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
The first thing you notice about Ace Trappola is that he's got the smile of someone who lives for trouble.
Your hunch is confirmed when he laughs in your face, nearly blows you off your feet in the most literal way possible, then tries to ignore the consequences of his own actions.
You don't like him.
And it's not just because he reminds you of playing cards and closed doors.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
"I'm not going to let myself get expelled when the stone is right there!"
Deuce, as shaken as he is after running for his life from a ten-foot mutant sludge monster, stands firm in his resolve.
"And I'm asking you if you've lost your damn mind. Cause there's no way in hell you're getting past that thing!"
"It doesn't matter, because I have to. I'm going to graduate as an honors student for my mom and stay alive for my soulmate."
Ace says something, probably another dig at Deuce's chances of survival, but all you hear is static.
Soulmate, he said. That means they exist here too.
"ALRIGHT, ENOUGH."
Both boys and your feline menace jump.
"Here's the plan: you're going to listen to me, or none of us go home in one piece."
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
Things happened so fast, faster than you thought possible. But now you're standing outside Crowley's office, no longer expelled and with a new leadership position under your belt.
"So, Prefect," Ace interrupts your dazed musings with an arm thrown over your shoulder. "What's going to be first on your agenda of things to do as the new Dormhead of Ramshackle?"
"Pester my soulmate."
"What?" He balks.
"So your world has soulmates too," Deuce says, the softest smile you've ever seen on him taking shape across his face. "That's so cool. Have you been able to keep talking with them since you got here?"
"No."
"Oh," that sweet expression crumbles, and you scramble to try and get it back.
"But we were also sort of fighting before I came here, so. They might just be ignoring me."
"Oh, that's..." Deuce bites his lip, conflicted.
Ace is strangely quiet, looking at you with an expression made to give nothing away.
"What's a soulmate?" Grim chooses that moment to butt in. Done admiring his new gem.
You spend the walk back to Ramshackle explaining the concept as best you can to your companion. Departing from Ace and Deuce with promises to see them at school first thing tomorrow.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
It's way too late to be up on a school night, and you're halfway through drawing a large maine coon on your calf when someone knocks on your door.
You open it to find Ace, collared and fuming. Coat haphazardly slung over his shoulders.
"I'm moving into Ramshackle!" He bellows.
But all you can see are the hints of cat ears peeking over the edge of his displaced sleeves.
Then his eyes catch on your calf, pant leg still rolled up to let the ink dry.
It doesn't look like anyone will speak anytime soon. So you decide to bite the bullet.
"Girlfriend not work out? How shocking."
He blinks, blinks some more, then remembers himself. "Oh, like it's a crime to date someone who isn't your soulmate. Unless it was where you're from?"
You say nothing, and that's enough of an answer for him.
"Yeah, so no. Not a big deal then."
"You were ignoring me though."
"Oh, excuse me for not finding your dead rats the most pleasant."
You're tired, you imagine he is too. Coming off a fight with a monster beyond both of your comprehension.
"Sleep on the couch." You leave before he can say anything back.
🃏°🂱⋆ 🎲 .🂱࿔*🃏
It's probably not even an hour later when you cave and push yourself out of bed, striding toward the door.
Ace is already on the other side of it. Brows pinched and eyes downcast.
"Get in." He's not expecting your voice, considering how he flinches. "Stay on your side, and maybe I won't send you back to the couch."
Again, you don't wait for his response, just tuck yourself back into bed and close your eyes.
You feel his weight shifting the old mattress, hear springs groan under the additional body.
"... I'm—"
"Don't."
"But I—"
"Ace, really, it's fine. It doesn't matter."
"Clearly it does, you're upset."
He's facing you on the other side of the bed, mindful of Grim's placement as an unintended barrier between you two. His hair sticks up in gravity-defying tuffs, clad in just his white button-up.
"... That collar looks uncomfortable."
"You have no idea."
You smile, despite it all, tired yet grateful all the same. He gives you one back, hesitant and with only one side of his mouth at first.
"I thought I lost you." You don't mean to say it, but it slips.
The smile falls.
"I thought your last memory of me was going to be of dead rats."
"It wasn't."
Even in the dark of your room, you swear his eyes shine with a determination you saw mirrored in the flames he helped to fan.
"It never would've been. Trust me."
That seems to be all the words either of you wants to say at this hour. And steadily, your lids grow heavy with sleep. But right before you slip under, you feel something touch your hand. A featherlight, curious brush. You open your hand to that touch without hesitation. You go to sleep to the sensation of Ace drawing repeated four-leaf clovers into your palm.
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