#any feedback?

[princesscatherinedaily]

The Prince and Princess of Wales at the Royal Variety Performance tonight.

[project-claroscuro]

Serious question time

I've been thinking about it and.....does people actually LIKED the old demos? Sometimes I get comments about how much they liked the old 2019 version. That's not how I remember it. I mean....I lost 20 followers after releasing the demo for the first time. I had to practically beg people to play my game. I got comments like this, accusing my protagonists of being cliche and boring. For example.

If I had known my game had support all along, I wouldn't have changed it. However, I won't change the current Claroscuro back. The story is 100% done and I'm satisfied at how the full game is going so far.

....Btw the definitive demo got a way MORE positive reception, it just baffles me to see people saying "aww, but i liked the old one :("

[deathbirby]

coloring practice with dragon sothis!

it clearly has skin on its head but its very tightly pulled around the skull

BIG credit to @seibaagoesbaah for the extra eye inspiration. go check them out, they got banger art.

[holy-yeosang]

Already making banners for the concert despite not having tickets yet...

[nickleback-fan]

Short Story - "Tom"

Writing prompt: Write a story in which a characters position as an outsider has a major effect on the story.

Shh... Shh... Shh...

Those were the shrill sounds which I awoke to.

After a moment I stirred, and while at first disorientated, I made the attempt to examine my surroundings. The source of this strident noise which still filled my ears I soon discovered, a machine. It stood in the corner of the room, Imposing, almost evil. From it emanated innumerous tubings, each impossible to follow with the eye for more than a second - it's inconceivably tangled mass fooling my vision. An artificial diaphragm working insessently at its head, the culprit which produced the maddening drone. One of these tubes led to a mask, tightly secured to my face, undoubtedly administering some dreadful miasma, to which I owe my current state

For how long I remained in that position I cannot tell you, both mesmerised and terrified by the machine's repetitive motions. I pondered my next move, orchestrating hundreds of plans, yet I did not budge. I'm not sure what possessed me, what inspired me to finally act, but eventually i stuck out at it. It groaned - as if begging for mercy, before giving out. It was then I removed the mask, and surveyed the room. I venture out of the safety of my bedsheets and wander around the space. It is a strange place, although I cannot articulate why. It almost seemed as if it was examining me as thoroughly as I was it, peering from cracks and shadows. There was some distressing familiarity in it, while still feeling truly alien to me. I had seen many like it, it's drab walls, antiquated furnishing, giving a sense of archaic mystery to it. Despite trying my best to avoid doing so, it was at this point I accidentally caught sight of the machine once more. Menacingly, it stared back at me. Redolent of some cacodaemonic cosmic horror, tenticles reaching out in every direction; desperately searching for its next victim. This time however, I had no chance to lose myself in this vile mechanical contrivance, as I was interupted. It was then that the first rhythmic thud sounded at my door. I readied myself for what was to come.

My heart raced as the door opened. The click of the latch, squeak of the unoiled hinges, all building up to the entrance of this visitor. This suspenseful moment shattered as a rather innocuous figure came through the door. Saying nothing, giving no indication of what his intentions are apart from a short grimace towards the machine. He turns, and beckons me to follow. I obey, what choice do I have? With that, I step out into the unknown.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, from the dimly lit bedroom - it's only source of light being what little could pass through the curtains - to the blinding white LEDs of the hallway I had just set foot in. I tried to absorb as much as I could, without falling behind. This place felt unnatural. An endless passage, lined with doors identical to one another; no windows to speak of. The white linoleum floor squeaked beneath my companions feet. Air conditioning whirred, providing the soundtrack to this oppressive scene. After what felt like hours, an end was in sight. An overwhelming sense of dread filled me as we approached the end of the corridor. My imagination ran wild in those seconds, what "they" would do to me, whatever malevolent monster was behind this facility, what inconceivable horrors waited past this ingress.

What I saw was, in ways, worse than anything I had anticipated. Initially, I felt a sense of relief; I saw others. Regular people, like me. Joy washed over me, as for the first time in this terrible ordeal, I wasn't alone. This feeling however, was fleeting. Upon further examination, there was something wrong with these people. At first glance, yes, they seemed perfectly normal, but after a full inspection there was something missing. After my guides indifference towards what I did - so long as I remained in the room - was made clear by his general dismissal of me, I attempted to speak to the others. My greatest fears were realised; my queries were met with confused looks and half answers, as if they themselves couldn't understand what I was saying. I collapsed in a heap of despair. I was lost. Any hope of others like me, of company, lost. Surrounded by people, I was more alone then when I first awoke. An outsider.

I felt a hand on my back. Another, dressed like the man who arrived at my door what now felt like an age ago. He offered his hand, helped me up. Words of sympathy, how he heard I had s mishap this morning (undoubtedly referencing my destruction of the Machine). They felt rehersed, like he had done this one thousand times before. I did not know this man, nor did I trust him and his honeyed words. Nonetheless I did not make a scene, merely remained silent. He rambled about "doctors orders" and "that time of day" but I payed no heed. I saw what he was hiding. In his hands he brandished, beneath a light blue cloth, a syringe. Undoubtedly sedation, what else? What better way to deal with a troublemaker then to nullify the problem. I knew I had to act fast, no time for idle contemplation. I lashed out at him, like I had to the Machine hours before, disarming him momentarily. I felt my bones ache as I slowly attempted to flee. This small triumph however, was quickly thwarted, as my opponent seemed relitivley unphased at my outburst. He easily caught me, and escorted me back to the hall without difficulty. The entire journey, he chastised me, as if I was some misbehaving child who didn't know better. I was a young boy, refusing to eat his greens. I was confused, and disorientated. Why am I being met with such a response? Was I not, for those moments, dangerous assaultant, worthy of sedation? Does he see me as so little?

He ushered me into the bedroom, calling out to me as he shut the door "We will have a chat and try again later, alright Tom?". Upon hearing my own name, I froze. For the first time that day I looked down, and saw my withered hands. I approached the glass of water on my bedside table, and saw one of "them" staring back in my reflection. The lost expression, those empty eyes. I saw myself for who I was. I cross the room, and open the drawer beneath the wardrobe. My muscles ached as I bent - the strain of a long life - as I fished out the photograph. I looked at the stranger in the photo. The man whose memories came back to me occasionally. He is surrounded by people, loved ones, no doubt. I gaze longingly at the image. How I wish I could go back. But he is a stranger to me now, lost to the cruelty of age. I knew, deep down, that this wasn't the first time. And worst of all, I knew it wouldn't be the last. In my anguish, I carefully placed the frame back, and I wept. I wept for what I had lost. I wept for the life I had forgotten, but most of all, I wept for tomorrow. For the days of lethargy, misery and boredom. An outsider in my own mind.

[to-whoever-wants-to-hear]

[Video Transcription:

Text to Speech: Hello Foolish, it’s me, your mother. You’re grounded.

Foolish: Oh. That was unexpected.

/End Transcription] 

It took me way too long to give this 7 second clip subtitles. Please enjoy it. 

[aromagni]

Considering posting about pride patches I’ve embroidered for ASAW but in the past when I’ve posted my embroidery it doesn’t seem to get circulated much at all? I’m not sure how much of that is lack of interest vs. something with the format, especially since some have been tutorials specifically. Is it better to have just 1 image with minimal words? Could also possibly be because of tumblr being weird about links, considering I like to refer back to other things a lot? Idk. I have made many cool patches though, and actually sewed them onto vest somewhat recently which is much aesthetic, but yeah I could probably post about aro pride patches daily throughout the week if decide to.