#qwewe

[agapi-kalyptei]

Yeah I'm a multi-millionaire. I have millions of good memories.

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the other day i cooked up another cliche-ass superpower au where mackie had wolverine-tier regen and i thought there was no better way to represent that than to scribble her plucking a bullet out of her skull otw home so here is that

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kssss

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hi my name is ‘only five faces’ and here are colored bust sketches of the protags of something i like 2 call “Swiss Army Fire”, a self-indulgent original universe where these 3 lesbians go around the world dealing with its smorgasbord of extraterrestrial, supernatural, paranormal what-have-you’s while ultimately sharing no common goal except to Live

for any interested, under this cut is more info about them, including their names, personal agenda, type of humanity and why they all have bicolored hair

Saph, the leftmost lady with the hat, has hollywood-style retrograde amnesia and remembers nothing of her old identity, including what she is and why she doesn’t bleed or can’t seem to be killed. she starts out with 2 clues tho: she cant understand modern slang and there’s a neat scar on her forehead that might have something to do with her memory loss. early on the (re)discovers that she really likes jewelry decorated with blue gemstones, and the sapphire becomes her namesake (or so arkey says).

Her age is unknown but she’s physically in her twenties. Her current goal is to piece her old identity back and figure out why she’s “immortal”. She likes video games, (particularly adventure games and visual novels, but she’s hesitant to get into any kinds of MMO’s), jewelry, and big soft beds with thick blankets. Her hair has blue highlights because Arkey said it would look good and match her name. She’s also talented at parkour and makes an excellent marksman, but often runs into trouble figuring out complicated modern firearms.

The one in the middle is called Ashe McNeil in the paperwork but if you’re anyone important you’ll get around to calling her Arkey. she’s a vampire about two centuries old (which she thinks of as three lifetimes) and while she’s posing as a college student, she’s also the current head of the Arcadia, a kind of online social help network for nonhumans and humans involved with the non-mundane parts of the world. saph goes straight to her for help and ashe is friendly so she lets saph stick around. they become Best Friends

*the Arcadia has a less dramatic name online, but that’s what it was called a hundred or so years ago when it was just a society of do-gooders helping non-mundane creatures find peaceful places to live away from humans. since then, humans have accepted them as a part of reality, but it’s not like they like when their houses are haunted by malevolent ghosts and such so there’s some stigma 

Her age is vague but she’s physically 22 forever. Her current goal isn’t something she really actively pursues, but she’s trying to find a lightning/storm god and strike a deal so that she has enough electricity powers to use the capacitive touchscreens on things like smartphones and tablets (they dont react to undead skin). She likes all kinds of fashion (including makeup), perfumes and colognes, informal social gatherings, heights, and enjoys vampire fiction. Ashe McNeil is, of course, one of multiple names she uses for herself.  Unlike the other two she’s bad with guns and action but being a vampire means she punches the hardest and can probably throw small cars or something.

The last one at the right is Faye Zafjer (za-fier, stress on the second syllable, the fj is like in ‘fjord’) and she’s the current leader of the Zafjer society (what a name right), a society that is empowered by and follows the leading Zafjer in dealing with supernatural threats against humanity. unfortunately for her she actually inherited it like 4 years too early because her dad got eaten by a dragon he was supposed to kill, so she’s mentally and emotionally underequipped to lead a thousand year-old society of magicians. on the plus side, senior members help her out and all the money is hers (and there’s a lot of money)

She’s 19 just flat-out 19 She has no current goal (the dragon that ate her dad is dead already and she took its fire powers) so she just wants to get a grip on her leadership position and do her job She likes coffee, breakfast food, cars, firearms, and the holiday season Her “highlights” are actually hair discoloration at her temples from inefficient magic use. She doesnt mind them as long as they dont get too white. She meets Arkey and Saph after getting an erroneous tip about one of Arkey’s friends eating humans and for plot reasons they all start working together. 

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dia i drew to chill out after a week of too much brain usage😩😩

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au: a noble falling in love with the most infamous and despised tengu of the decade?? scandalous! which is why ruby does it, what a rebel

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have a 500 word eternal wip of dia and mari in the tg au bc i forgot what i was gonna write next

The sky is taking on its first tints of daytime blue, but Dia still shivers under the thin shawl that Mari lent her. Nervousness seems to have wrapped around her chest like an icy chain, turning her breaths slow and shallow and cold all at once and over each other. She pulls the ends of the shawl together, wraps it tighter around her, and feels nothing when it doesn’t give her any further sense of security.

Floorboards begin to creak behind her. Mari. Dia turns her breaths even thinner, waiting for the smell of open flesh to pass by.

But Mari stops behind her. “You queasy much, Dia?”

Dia takes another, realer breath to answer. Perhaps the salty ocean breeze washed it away, but the rotten stench she expected to catch is missing from the air.

“I am,” Dia says, refusing to let the cold chip into the strength of her voice. “I’m sure you could tell, though, or guess as much.”

“About me, these snacks, or Kanan?”

“All those and more,” Dia says. “I’m shivering right now, actually, but it could be from the cold as well as this wretched nausea roiling around my insides.”

Mari hums in that light way she often does, which stokes a jealous ember in Dia. She wishes she could be half as resilient about all this as Mari is, especially now.

“Well, see, I was just wondering,” Mari says. “Because, as much as I hate to remind you, I need an extra hand setting all this up properly.”

Dia turns, looks behind her, and finds that Mari is gripping the handle of a cooler so tightly that the color is draining from her hand—her only hand, at the moment. The other is crushed bone and bits of melting flesh inside Kanan’s stomach or strewn about the dusty floor of her house. Remembering makes Dia’s stomach churn.

But that’s a distraction. Mari’s tight grip on the cooler handle is clearly thanks to the weight, so Dia gets up from her seat on the side of the pier and takes it from her.

“Thank you,” Mari says. “I’ll be needing your help with the bigger one back there, too.”

Dia can see the size of the bigger cooler resting atop the jetski Mari borrowed. “Do you really need all this… food? How much do ghouls eat at a time?”

Mari shrugs. “Not nearly as much as you’re worried about, but Kanan’s clearly a bit more than hungry, so,” she raises her other arm, pulling the fabric of the sleeve back and letting peek out a stump covered in reddening cloth, “better safe than sorry, you know?”

Dia flinches. “I know.”

Mari was telling more of a truth than Dia thought, it turns out, when they lug both of the coolers into Kanan’s house and Dia finds the upper half of both of them filled with bottles of juice and some airtight food boxes.

“Just in case anyone asks,” Mari says. “The story is that we’re volunteering for a little housekeeping in Kanan’s stead, and these are some snacks I wanted to bring for us. This is for you.” She tosses Dia a juice bottle. Dia nearly asks Mari what she’ll be having, and frowns when she catches herself.

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graffiti artist au youriko, ~900 words

Yō pauses from deepening the blue of the sky. “Y’know, you really are one in a million, come to think of it.”

Riko pulls out one in a dozen retorts she has ready, not even lifting her finger from the nozzle. “Flattery’s not very original, Yō-chan,” she says in a flippant singsong.

“I wasn’t trying to flatter you that time,” Yō said. “Come on, what were the chances the one city kid we’d have in our class would know about this kind of stuff, huh?”

“This isn’t exactly the best kind of stuff to be into.”

“Those ridiculous gradient skills you’re showing off tell me you don’t actually care.” Yō stands back from the wall and tugs down her mask. “My part’s done. You?”

“Same here, I think.”

Riko pulls her can of orange paint away and backs away from the wall to examine her and Yō’s handiwork.

There aren’t quite so many technicalities in play for her to consider it worth much study, but it’s plenty expressive. Today, their canvas is the pristine white wall at the back of a lonely, Ohara-owned storehouse that sits atop a hill. Riko tells herself it’s a bit of a shame despite knowing in her heart that a paint job like that was just asking for it. She doesn’t blame herself, either--Tokyo made her that way--but she sees that Yō is at least thoughtful about it, using the white to help frame her work in an arc of soft, stretching clouds. 

The clouds happen to be Riko’s personal favorite part of the piece. Sure, using the environment cleverly is a trademark of the medium, but a style more like a painting than your usual piece of graffiti gets across how Numazu raises its artists so differently from a metropolis like the one Riko came from.

Or maybe it’s just Yō. Riko knows from looking at sketches that Yō’s style is characterized by strong, sharp edges where edges are needed and colors in soft, almost watery blends. Here, it’s the classic color scheme of vibrant orange on calm, cool blue--a symbol of the terrible tandem that is Chika and Yō, though only they and Riko would catch that--and for the point of focus, the English word “SUNRISE” is emblazoned across the spray-paint sky in wide, crisp, heavily stylized letters.

Definitely not quite something for study, but she gets engrossed in it all the same.

Yō approaches the sun that Riko had just finished and gestures at it with the open hand and puffed chest of pride. “What did I say? Perfect. Gradients. I could never pull off a yellow-to-orange like that.”

“Thank you,” Riko says, smiling under her mask. “I’m glad practice paid off. If only Chika-chan could see it, though.”

“I’ve gotcha covered.” Yō pulls her phone out and takes some quick shots of the piece. One to the left, to the right, front and center. “Nice, it’s really early, but the actual sunrise is doing a pretty good job lighting this up for me. Now I can gloat.”

Sunrise. Riko pulls her sleeve back and checks her watch. “6:20? Yō-chan, we should start heading back soon, before we get caught.”

“Serious? Okay, okay, one last thing,” Yō tucks her phone back into the pocket of her hoodie and points in the center of their sun. “Can you stand over there?”

Riko complies easily, but not without giving Yō a curious look. “You can’t take a picture of me with this, you know.”

“I know, geez, what do you think I am, new?”

“Honestly, you come off that way sometimes.”

“Shuuuush, listen to me.” Yō walks to Riko’s side and points in a direction generally forward. “See, check out the view here, right? The sun’s not right in your face but it’s still in front of you and not as harsh, and you can see all these trees and the ocean... and the weather’s perfect, just as predicted.”

“Yeah... yeah I’m seeing it,” Riko says, her voice trailing off as her eyes follow Yō’s description. “Well, Yō-chan, you’ve got a knack for strategic positioning, that’s for sure.”

There’s a soft thudding noise next to her head, and when Riko blinks and opens her eyes she’s just plain caught between Yō and the wall they just spray-painted. Her stupid heartbeat picks up and warmth climbs up her neck to her face, which is, unlike Yō’s, lit by soft sunlight, especially after Yō pulls her mask down and lets her hand linger. For a drawn moment neither of them seem to know what to do.

“Y-Yeah,” Yō finally says, wearing a nervous little smile. “Guess I do have a knack for it.”

As would only be appropriate by now, Yō leans in slowly, giving Riko ample time to move away or voice any disapproval, but Riko stays silent until their lips quietly connect. Kissing Yō feels a little like how her piece looks--warmth from her lips and the sun and a little chill from the wall and morning air, and it’s all together and pleasant and again it’s entrancing. Riko’s heart still drums too quickly to keep track of, so maybe several dozen heartbearts pass before Yō pulls away.

But not nearly enough.

“S-S-S-Sorry,” Yō mutters, staring at the ground, “if that was sudden, or anything. But uh, it was just us, and it seemed like such a good moment--”

“And you’re blowing it.”

Now Yō looks up. Her eyes are blue and catch just a little of the sun in them. “What?”

Riko frowns and grabs the collar of Yō’s hood. “You were doing fine and it was a good moment. Don’t get scared and end it like this. Again.”

"Again?” Yō said. “But didn’t you say we should leave or we’d risk getting caught?”

“Yō-chan, risk is kind of what we do. So?”

For moment Yō is speechless, but soon she nods. Riko pulls her in and the second time is far more than the piece could ever be.

They end up smudging Riko’s perfect gradient, but neither really care.

a/n: remember kids vandalism is illegal and aerosol sprays are bad for the environment. be cool and write fanfiction instead