German. 1989. VG playing and FF writing fangirl. Currently obsessed with (last updated 02/26): all things KPDH / Polytrix / Rumira / Life is Strange / (Amber-)Pricefield / Chenrich
After almost a decade on this site, I found another Tumblr user in the wild. I stopped to tie my shoe with rainbow laces this morning outside the silversmith at Colonial Williamsburg, and I heard it.
“I like your shoelaces.”
Oh. Oh no.
I responded the only way I could. “Thanks.” And then I reluctantly added, “I stole them from the president…and if that makes sense to you, I’m very sorry.”
The poor man, in full Colonial dress, stared at me for a long moment. And then burst into laughter. And said, “I haven’t thought about that in YEARS and this has never happened to me before.”
It's strange to think how many stories, laughs, tears, and unforgettable moments can fit into one world, and somehow still leave room for more.
120+ hours of drawing later (which is only about 30 episodes of Critical Role 👀) here’s my tribute to the world of Exandria. 3 campaigns, all guest characters over 10 years of streaming and a moon full of villains.
Celine couldn’t remember the last time so many demons had broken through Honmoon. Countless hordes pressed in, a tide of bodies and claws. She knew she wouldn’t be able to save everyone. She closed one tear only for two more to appear in its place. The barrier always weakened in autumn, but never this much.
A lie.
She remembered a much larger horde all too well. Something precious had been taken from her then.
No. Don’t think about that. Not now.
Slash. Stab. Dodge.
A breath.
Another tear.
Repeat.
Exhaustion soaked into muscle and bone. Her body faltered, but she couldn’t stop. No matter how much she bled, how badly she limped, Celine cut down demon after demon.
Slash. Stab. Dodge.
Day gave way to night, but that meant nothing to the demons. The glowing installations around Cheonggyecheon meant nothing either.
Three hours ago Celine had gotten a call from Jeju—the demons had attacked the island. Mentors and a few mudang had gone to defend it.
She was alone. Just her, Seoul, and endless demon hordes.
The sun chased away the moon, thick clouds gathering overhead.
The boy—Celine refused to think about how, in another world, Rumi would be his age—dissolved before her eyes. Another soul she couldn’t save. Another she had failed.
The world wept and Celine wasn’t sure whether the drops on her face were rain or her own tears.
Slash. Stab. Dodge.
Night again. When had the sun set?
Celine leaned against a wall. Her body begged for a break, but she knew that if she sat down now, she’d never find the strength to rise again.
There. Another demon.
She clenched her teeth and, even as her body screamed for her to stop, she pushed forward.
The world swayed and blurred. Honmoon still wailed, but much quieter now. An hour had passed since the last tear.
Walls and bulletin boards were plastered with a terrifying number of posters. So many families would never see their loved ones again. All because of Celine. If only she had tried harder.
The world tilted.
No. No no no. Not now. Not now!
A pair of arms wrapped around her waist.
She closed her eyes just for a moment. And again those hands—soft and deceptively strong. They helped her into the elevator, then into the apartment, then into the bathroom.
Celine didn’t react to the sting of her wounds or the needle running through her skin. She deserved this and far more.
A soft blanket settled around her shoulders. No, she should be sitting here alone, in the cold bathroom, bleeding and paying for every failure.
When had she ended up in the bedroom?
Mi‑yeong and Hana looked at her from an old photograph. What would they think of her? She was supposed to be a fearless leader. Unbreakable. But she had failed. Failed so terribly.
She slid to the floor. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, her face buried in her hands.
I posted this on the KPDH discord, but I figured I could repost it here too. Here's a list of links to various storyboards, early and/or scrapped scenes, and pitches & concepts shared by the various artists who worked on the movie.
Prologue & backstory
Prologue - Mingjue Helen Chen
More prologue paintings - Mingjue Helen Chen (check out her IG for a lot more production art)
Hunters through the ages - Mingjue Helen Chen
Young Rumi - Mingjue Helen Chen
Concepts of child Rumi - Scott Watanabe
Celine & child Rumi, Rumi practicing controlling the Honmoon - Simon Baek
Early days of Huntr/x - Darren Webb
Opening
Plane fight story pitch - Jed Diffenderfer. More at his website and also check out this post that has a video with an early voice track and an early version of How It's Done, & storyboard comparisons.
The original Vimeo upload was DMCA'd (I think it was a bogus claim...) but you can download it from the previous link. If the video there is deleted too DM me and I'll share a link.
Credit to this post by gkqtjdsbql, though sadly the video was deleted there too.
Different version of the opening - Nagi Koyama
Early skydive scene - Ryan Savas
Different intro battle (with lots of dancing and choreography) - Alicia Chan
Weapon summoning exploration - Alicia Chan
Early version of Jinu's intro - Sooyeon Lee
Golden
Golden storyboard initial pass - Darren Webb
Golden storyboard + early version of Golden - Bridget Underwood
Bathhouse
Gear up scene video - Hye Lynn Park
Longer bathhouse scene video - Josh 'Hat' Lieberman Storyboard
Jinu vs Rumi bathhouse battle sequence - Alex Chiu
Takedown montage, fansign, dates
"Meet Ugly", first encounter with the Saja Boys - Jed Diffenderfer, website
Derpy & Jinu's letter story pitch - Jed Diffenderfer
Zoey's notebooks - Stephen Neary
Slaying demons (plays during the Takedown montage), with funny Mira reaction & Zoey with a frog hat - Alicia Chan
Zoeystery - Ryan Savas
Idol Star Athletics Championship (replaced by the fansign scene) - Bridget Underwood
Train scene while arguing about the tonics - Alex Chiu
Aquarium date - Marion Bordeyne
Another Rumi & Jinu kiss pitch - Charles Hilton
Rumi & Jinu date at Woljeonggyo Bridge pitch - Laura Price
Jinu, temporarily stuck on the demon side, meets Rumi at the market - Bridget Underwood
Climax
3D Draft version of Takedown scene (Youtube)
Early version of Rumi's breakdown (with even more ANGST) - Sooyeon Lee
Lighting keys for breakup sequence (with Mira protecting Zoey) - Wendell Dalit
Rumi confronts Celine sequence - Jessie Wong
Another confrontation ("Celine... why did you kill my mother...") - Simon Baek
Confrontation continued - Simon Baek
Rumi goes to her mother's grave & Celine and Rumi flashback - Simon Baek
Rumi's transformation sequence - Andrew J. Ross
Climax ideas - Ryan Savas
Gwi-Ma attacks Rumi, Zoey, Mira & Jinu's reactions, Rumi's patterns are gold - Bridget Underwood
Rumi figthing Gwi-Ma - Bridget Underwood
Jinu gives Rumi the hat ending - Hanna Cho
Various
Storyboards - Stephen Neary
More storyboards (most of these made it into the movie) - Ray Xu
Other pitches
Golden MV teasers ideas (very short vignettes) - Alex Chiu
you can download current and past hi-res versions of these over at my ko-fi (ok to print for personal use): https://ko-fi.com/mxmorgan/shop/freedownloads
you can also snag shirts here which go to various orgs: https://mxmorgan.threadless.com/collections/pride
these get reposted a whole lot from here to reddit to twitter to tiktok and on and on, and i don't personally care whether or not i'm credited. i made these for everyone to use, enjoy, and find meaning in them. i appreciate folks who do credit me, but if able, please at least link to the threadless shop in the previous post - folks can get an official shirt where 90% of earnings go to trans led orgs focused on mental health (which is an important matter in general, but very personal to me) and not from a scam bot site selling AI-churned maga garbage where you probably won't get one anyway. i also suggest downloading the files from my ko-fi - they are free/PWYW and you can use them to make your own shirt, patch, embroidery project, whatever. tips are always nice, cuz i do like a pizza now and then, but never required for download.
final thought - breaking the pride tradition and more than likely won't make a new piece. the top one from TDOV is all i'm making this year. i have my focus on other projects currently and i don't want to force a poster design. these came from a specific head space and my current head space is Very Tired lmao so i wanna work on other things. 👍
[The artist, putting a simple cake next to a much fancier one: “Aw man, that guy’s cake is way better than mine.” The Audience, gleefully holding up a knife and fork “HOLY SHIT! TWO CAKES!”]
I know it’s not July yet, but guys, happy 10 years of “two cakes”. This post on god has been a godsend not only as a writer myself but as a friend of artists and writers who I love to encourage. This was legitimately a game-changer.
Forgot I had this saved in drafts until my moot @eldergoblin started being active on Tumblr again tonight lol (IDK if I'm AO3ing this one or not, we'll see)
you'd come over, right?
Rumi should have seen this coming.
When she woke up with a headache and a sore throat the day before, she didn’t take it seriously. She pushed through time in the recording booth and choreography sessions, despite her voice being a little more rough than normal in the recording booth and how easily she got tired after a few run-throughs of their new song in the dance studio. Zoey asked several times if Rumi needed a break or if she preferred coming back later. Mira made Rumi take extra water breaks when she noticed she was dripping in sweat the way she does at the end of their session - not fifteen minutes in.
After their work was done for the day Mira took her place in the kitchen and Zoey kept Rumi pinned to the couch with cuddles. One plate of Mira’s heart-warming kimchi jjigae later, Mira and Zoey marched Rumi into one of their bathrooms to take a long, hot shower. They waited on the other side of the door for her, throwing Rumi into her cozy pajamas and wrestling her into their bed early.
They thought that a full night’s rest would help. Rumi, too, thought it would be enough to banish whatever ailment was bothering her, especially with Zoey and Mira weighted so nicely against her as she fell asleep.
When Rumi wakes in the dark with her head pounding, her throat sore, and her body aching and coated in sweat, Rumi realizes just how screwed she really is.
She tries to sit up, but her muscles are like gelatin and she collapses back into her pillow with a weak groan. It’s just enough movement and noise to wake only one of her girlfriends (the other sleeps like a rock).
“Hm? Ru?” Mira whispers, her voice thick with sleep. “Y’okay?”
Rumi tries to respond, but her throat is too sore to form words. She groans again and she’d be the first to admit that it sounds much more helpless than she’d like.
Whatever this is has put her flat on her back - something the demons they fight can’t typically manage to do.
“Rumi? Hey,” Mira says, her lack of response rousing her. She lifts her head a little more and moves closer. “You okay?”
Rumi groans softly again, wishing her voice would cooperate in telling Mira to go back to sleep. It still doesn’t, and Mira moves away to turn on the lamp at her bedside. In this light, Rumi can see just how concerned Mira is when she turns back to her, sliding a hand up to cup her face.
“Ru?-- Shit, you’re burning up,” Mira mutters. “I’ll grab the thermometer. Stay right here.”
It’s not like Rumi could move if she wanted to - she’s already tried that.
Mira kicks the covers off her legs, getting to her feet and padding into the bathroom. Rumi hears the click of the light switch and some rummaging.
It feels like an eternity before Mira returns, but in that time Rumi realizes she is too hot and too cold at the same time. Zoey’s body heat from where her head rests on her shoulder makes her feel like she’s boiling, and Mira’s absence on the other side makes her feel like she’s been stuck in a freezer. As comfy and cozy as Rumi is, her limbs are aching. Her head is thrumming - it sounds like someone is using the kick pedal on their drumset but on the inside of her skull.
Mira returns to Rumi’s side, turning on the thermometer in her hand with a faint beep. She sits beside Rumi again, leaning over her.
“Okay, open up, Ru,” Mira whispers. Rumi barely gets her jaw to cooperate, but Mira’s able to slip the end of the thermometer underneath her tongue. A few moments later, it beeps three times, and Mira pulls it out of her mouth to read it. “Shit, you’re almost up to 103,” she announces.
Rumi doesn’t know much about Fahrenheit except from Zoey. By some odd luck, one of them always gets sick when they tour in America, so most (if not all) of the thermometers in the penthouse are in Fahrenheit. Zoey has told Rumi and Mira repeatedly that a normal body temperature in Fahrenheit is 98-point-something degrees, and that after 104, they need to go to the hospital. That’s how she knows that 103 Fahrenheit is definitely not ideal.
“We’ve gotta bring that down. I’ll be right back,” Mira mutters, kissing her forehead.
From that point, Rumi remembers only the smallest snippets. Her fever keeps her so muddled that she only manages to have sporadically clear thoughts and memories.
Rumi blinks once and Mira’s gone.
She blinks again and Mira is draping a freezing, wet towel on her forehead.
One more blink and Rumi has an icepack on her chest while Mira tries to get her to sit up and drink some water. Rumi’s too weak to move on her own and her throat is too swollen to swallow, so she refuses.
“Just a little,” Mira whispers, stroking her cheek with her thumb. “I know it hurts.”
Rumi doesn’t even know how long it’s been since she first woke up by the time she realizes Mira is dressed for the day. There’s a bit of light peeking through her curtains now. Rumi feels like she’s thoroughly sweating through her shirt.
Rumi doesn’t remember dropping her jaw just a little so Mira can trickle cold water into her mouth. Any relief granted from the water is erased by the pain that comes with swallowing.
Rumi blinks again and Zoey’s awake, stroking the hair at the top of her head and looking down at her.
“Hey, aegiya,” Zoey whispers. “Mira’s gone to make you a smoothie to cool you down. You’re still hanging around 102.”
A shiver creeps up on Rumi, shuddering through her body when it radiates from the icepack on her chest. She doesn’t understand how the thermometer could say she’s so warm when Rumi feels like she’s taken a trip to Antarctica.
“Cold?” Zoey asks. Rumi manages a small nod. “Here.” She drapes a thin blanket over Rumi’s chest and arms, just enough to keep the chill away. “We can’t have you too warm, but I don’t want you freezing.” She presses a soft kiss to Rumi’s forehead.
Rumi blinks again and Mira’s trying to get a spoonful of a peach and strawberry smoothie down her throat.
“Nae sarang, you need to eat something,” Mira tells her. “Please.”
Rumi opens her mouth just a little, letting Mira spoon the smoothie into her mouth. She waits for her to swallow before offering another - it still hurts, but it’s cold and tastes pretty good. Rumi can only stand to swallow six times before Mira lets up.
“Can we try some medication?” Zoey asks from her other side. “It will help with the fever.”
“No,” Rumi rasps, her voice breaking despite it finally allowing her to form words. “It hurts.”
“We’ll try later, okay?” she asks. Rumi nods.
“Get some rest, Ru,” Mira tells her. “We’ll be right here.”
Rumi closes her eyes, letting sleep overtake her.
A string of old memories run through Rumi’s dreams. She dreams of when she was younger, seeing flashes of herself and Celine during all the happy times they had together.
She sees herself held in Celine’s arms, her eyes drooping. Rumi was supposed to be asleep in her own bed, but found Celine when she just couldn’t manage to drift off. Her little feet hang off the side of Celine’s lap, but she doesn’t seem to mind that Rumi’s slowly falling asleep on her shoulder.
She watches Celine throw a big, fluffy towel over her head after her nightly bath. Celine teasingly wonders where Rumi went until a tuft of purple hair and her little nose poke out from underneath the towel. Rumi giggles when Celine gasps dramatically and starts rubbing her dry, telling Rumi that she’s snug as a bug in a rug.
She sees Celine teaching her some basic first aid when she was barely a teenager. Celine often used herself as an example for Rumi after she returned from her solo demon fights and coached Rumi through the basics so she’d have plenty of hands-on experience.
Rumi remembers Celine doing the same for her after her training sessions. Celine’s hands were always steady and careful, always just warm enough to soothe her deepest aches from sparring for two hours straight.
And then she sees her first hug with Celine after the Idol Awards. A not-quite-mother and a not-quite-daughter sharing a desperate, tight, relieving hug. Rumi doesn’t know how long it actually lasted, but in the moment it felt like they had been hugging for hours. They had tea afterwards and began some difficult conversations.
Things haven’t quite been the same since the Idol Awards, but Rumi knows it’s a work in progress. Celine is trying to be a better parental figure. Rumi is trying to be okay with everything after so long.
Rumi never knew her mother - she can’t remember ever being with her.
But Rumi loves Celine like she’s her mom.
Celine was far from perfect - this they both agree on - but Rumi loves her. She was there when she had no one. She loved her and cared for her when no one else was there to do so.
She wishes she was here.
Rumi barely opens her eyes for a minute, seeing Mira pacing on the phone.
“She’s really out of it. It hurts her to swallow, her temperature is down to 102, and we got her to go back to sleep but she keeps muttering about her mom,” Mira says. “She won’t take any meds and it’s difficult to get her to eat or drink anything… I think she needs you… I know you’re not her mom, but you’re the closest thing she has, Celine.”
That’s all she catches before Zoey replaces the cold towel on her forehead, then she’s out like a light again.
Rumi thinks she’s dreaming again when she hears Celine’s voice.
“Rumi-ya.”
Rumi pulls her eyes open. When they focus, Celine is at her bedside, placing one of her palms against Rumi’s forehead. Rumi shivers - Celine’s hand feels cold, but she knows that she’s still too warm.
“You’re right, she’s still burning up,” Celine says over her shoulder. Mira and Zoey appear behind her. “What was her temperature?”
“She was at 101 just before you got here,” Zoey replies.
“She’s been incoherent for hours,” Mira adds.
When Rumi reaches over and grips one of Celine’s hands, she turns back to Rumi with a soft smile.
“There you are, Rumi-ya. You’re okay,” Celine whispers.
For a moment, Rumi is so out of it that she feels like she might have somehow telepathically communicated with Celine to get her to show up.
“You’re here.” Rumi’s voice is rough and her throat feels like sandpaper. The tears running down her face aren’t helping.
“Shh,” Celine whispers. “I brought soup. Rest.” She turns back to Mira and Zoey. “Do you still have that smoothie? It’ll be good while the soup heats up.”
“I’ll go grab it out of the freezer,” Mira says, then leaves the room.
“Zoey, can you get Rumi a dry t-shirt? This one is soaked,” Celine tells her. Zoey nods and starts rummaging through her drawers, but Celine turns back to Rumi. Her hand moves from Rumi’s forehead to wipe away the tears on Rumi’s face. “Don’t cry, Rumi-ya, it’s okay.”
“I missed you, eomma,” Rumi whispers. She doesn’t realize the words slip out of her mouth until Celine notices.
After the Idol Awards, Rumi started calling Celine her mom more openly… but she’s never called her eomma. That term had always been reserved for Mi-yeong.
But Mi-yeong isn’t here. Celine is. She’s always been there for her.
(Not always always, but they’re working on moving past that.)
And now Celine looks like she’s about to cry.
“I missed you, too, Rumi-ya,” she replies, ducking down to kiss Rumi’s forehead. “We’ll get you feeling better.”
Zoey shifts a few pillows behind Rumi to get her to sit upright, holding her to keep her there while Celine helps Rumi change shirts. Mira returns a minute later with the smoothie she made and a spoon, but leaves again to check on the soup.
“I need you to eat something, Ru,” Celine tells her, taking the smoothie from Mira and giving it a good stir. “We need to get you some medication so you can fight the fever, but we can’t do that if your throat hurts too much to swallow a pill, so… smoothie.”
Celine’s presence changes everything.
She convinces Rumi to eat Mira’s smoothie despite her throat still hurting. Celine convinces Rumi to eat her homemade samgyetang even though she has to spoon-feed it into her mouth.
Celine is the one that convinces Rumi to finally take some medication for her fever.
When Celine is finally satisfied she tells Rumi to take a nap (because her eyes were drooping anyways). Rumi is still so incoherent that she barely remembers asking Celine to get into her bed with her. She doesn’t remember asking, but she remembers laying her head on Celine’s shoulder like she used to on Celine’s couch.
“Get some rest, Rumi-ya,” Celine whispers into her hair. “I love you.”
“Love you too, eomma,” Rumi mutters, her eyelids falling closed.
Celine stays with Rumi. Mira and Zoey are still around, bringing her food, cold drinks, and more medication… but it’s Celine that is almost always with her. Celine makes sure she eats and drinks enough, makes sure she takes her medication, and makes sure she doesn’t sweat through her t-shirts.
Having Celine around makes Rumi feel like that four year-old girl again - the one that giggled while Celine dried her off after her bath. Everything feels lighter between them than it has in a long time.
Mira and Zoey handle Rumi’s hot baths to help with her body aches, and they sleep beside her at night to make sure she gets good sleep and doesn’t need anything in the middle of the night.
Two mornings later, Rumi’s fever finally breaks. She admits to not really remembering much of what happened the first day of her fever, but she’d wished for Celine in her dreams… and Celine showed up.
“I guess I should probably get going now that you’re feeling better,” Celine tells Rumi, her duffle bag packed at her feet.
“Do you have to?” Rumi asks quietly, sliding her legs over the edge of her bed and getting to her feet. “I, um… I miss you.”
Celine looks like she wants to smile, but the corners of her mouth return to a neutral position.
“I’m never too sure if you want me around after… everything,” Celine replies. “But… if you want I can be around more.”
“I’d like that,” Rumi says. Celine does smile then. “I really, really want that.”
Celine moves first, closing the gap between them and pulling her into a hug. Rumi wraps her arms around Celine, never wanting to let go. She buries her face in Celine’s shoulder, trying to keep herself from getting too emotional.
“I know you’re Mi-yeong’s… but I love you like you’re mine, Rumi-ya,” Celine whispers. That’s enough for Rumi to cling to her even more. “If you want me to be your eomma, I will… but I need you to say it again so it’s not just something you said in a fever-induced haze.”
Rumi very vaguely remembers what Celine’s talking about. For a moment she thinks that she dreamt calling Celine her eomma, but if Celine knows about it… then she must have said it out loud.
Rumi knows she meant it, even if she was pretty muddled during her fever.
“I love you, eomma,” Rumi mutters with a sniffle, clenching her eyes shut when her tears threaten to spill. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Celine holds her firmer. “I love you so much, Rumi-ya,” she replies. “I’ll be apologizing for everything that happened for the rest of my life, but I love you, Rumi. All of you.”
When they pull out of the hug, Celine takes Rumi’s face between her hands.
“No matter how big you get, you’re still my little girl,” Celine whispers, finally opening Rumi’s tearful floodgates.
They agree on brunch once a week - or FaceTime calls when HUNTR/X is on tour or otherwise occupied. They’ve got to start somewhere, after all.
When Rumi walks Celine out of the penthouse with Mira and Zoey at her side, she knows that they’ll figure this out, but for once… she feels like her family is complete.
