#lobotomy corp

[pigeonlikesbread]

Uhhhhhh chibi carmen or something.

[probablyancinnamonroll]

Da Capo silly

[squiddyswimming]

here comes pink! In the name of love and justice~!

left is original, right is an edit. original sprite is from deltarune

[oakidoki]

ok im narrowing it (hair colors) down

i like the look of the purple but im not entirely sold, i am considering the natural(?) dirty blonde but i also really like the bright highlighter green. i feel like if i leave the warm tones it starts feeling un-Carina-like.... poll time.. my first poll i think.

make my choices for me. or give me feedback. i dont know

purple

blonde

green

something else (Tell Me)

Remaining time: 1 hour 12 minutes

i hope more than one person answers this

[worlds-best-manager]

Dear, Managers of Lobotomy Corp Branches

You gotta stop turning our employees into Bong-Bong.

I won’t lie to you, this isn’t focused on the ethics of reshaping someone’s appearance and personality then giving them a new name because if it was I’d be a massive hypocrite and everyone knows I don’t give a shit about ethics.

It just makes my job 5 times harder when about half the employees are basically clones of the same person

We need to be as efficient as possible right now since we just had to close out Branch O-5681 and Day 45 is just around the corner

Sincerely,

A

[acldleak]

some headcanons i have that had i forgot to add is that: - shes chubby - she's blasian (jamaican-korean) - she has monolids - her gloves are black and she wears a body suit undet there incase she has to use her hands (i headcanon she doesn't like showing that much exposed flesh besides from her feet and head) - she's really close with laetitia (as u can tell) - shes 11 - she doesn't breach butttttt hod fights her in her book in ruina so instead of a gun (her ego weapon) she uses a short blade to attack/defend

i should draw more dont attack me for my headcanons i love yall bye bye

[binah-beloved]

even now within the more tranquil environment of the library, Binah sometimes experiences tremors running through her reborn form - the fleeting reminder of those metal rods and equiments once scattering her brain ruthlessly for information back in the laboratory. just tingling sensations under the skin, a slight shaking in her limbs for a brief moment, at worst causing a few droplets of tea to escape from her tilted cup onto the marble white saucer. this too is one among the consequences of the path she agreed to witness until the end, Binah understands, thus there is no use fighting against its existence or reeling in the sense of discomfort brought by it swiftly from time to time, for it's no forces strong enough to topple her tolerance. still, she cannot deny how ironic an aspect of it is, for the hands of an arbiter who wields power and passes judgement should have always been steady and relentless. nevertheless, this condition of hers is subtle, but it did not go unnoticed by you who have always looked her way with adoration, you who sincerely wish to care for her, to be by her side...

you brush over Binah's knuckles, and her hands still. just for a moment. frozen around her teacup and chilled to the bone. they gradually ease. setting the porcelain aside, gold swirled around the rim. she offers you those hands without a word. palms up, uncurling her fingers, dotted with tiny scars and nicks. a few cuts, recent and ruby red, nestled between the marks. accidental jolts and trembles; paper, blades, her own nails. clever. an Arbiter hides all wounds, burying weakness beneath layers of sadistic apathy. Binah told you that, once. in a rusted cage devoid of sunlight. you've seen her bleeding. bruised. a gash stretching across her face, that same calm onyx in her gaze. clever, clever, clever- and stubborn. you glance up, frowning, narrowing your eyes. the same exasperated look as always. she has the decency to briefly wince, chastised, before her expression smooths back to a stoic mask.

yet a quiver prickles at her fingertips, muscles stiff around the bones. her brows pinch. irritation, a hint of grief. Binah sits at your request. leaning her head against yours, a quiet sigh on her lips. it's nothing. just small surface wounds. they'll heal by tomorrow. or perhaps the next day- but the protests fade into silence as you massage both palms, pressing gently into the skin. warming her blood into properly flowing through frozen veins. the tremors calm, a subtle smile tugging at her lips. the same caresses she gives to you, when your tears fall without respite and your vision swims with despair. her fingers curl, lacing with your own. pressing a soft, grateful kiss atop your knuckles. your wrist. the arch of your shoulder. an unmoving Arbiter no longer, blooming in each petal of her pain. entrusting her budding heart to you alone.

how far she has fallen.

and how comforting these burnt feathers have become, with that shining star in their depths.

[conythedemonask]

I be playing lot of lobotomy corporation...