Friendship knows no distance
A slightly belated birthday gift for @king-moron. Sometimes it really sucks to have friends on the other side of the world. You wanna go and hug them and support them, but you’re so damn far away. Someday, my dude.
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Friendship knows no distance
A slightly belated birthday gift for @king-moron. Sometimes it really sucks to have friends on the other side of the world. You wanna go and hug them and support them, but you’re so damn far away. Someday, my dude.
Aperture respects non-binary people. Do you?
“No homo, right?” “Dude, you're gay.” “Not for you though.” “I know.” “Love you, man.” “Love you too.”
I had someone insist that all physical affection outside of family indicated romantic attraction. So here’s David and Nigel bro-cuddling, because fuck that nonsense.
Dark lighting is not my thing apparently but here’s my new GlaDOS design anyway. I tried.
Sketchdump time! I’m getting the hang of my new GLaDOS design and did some overdue practise on Charlie the drama queen Heavy Metal Core and his fabulous hair + two tired cores because I love to draw The Morning Look™
Melody
(Send me a one word prompt and I’ll write a drabble, still accepting.)Sorry this took so long, I had five ideas I had to write first to pick the best / most relevant one.
Melodies were allthat filled an empty day. He hated the silence. The music he playedwasn’t for their sake, the sake of those he had to guide. It was forhimself. He listened to it while he worked, and while he did anythingelse. He listened to the queen and her choir, and even more helistened to the banished one, the one he had only ever admired fromthe distance. He couldn’t bear the silence. In silence, strangethings happened, things he didn’t want anything to do with. Nowit was silent and there was nothing he could do to change that. Andin the silence, he realized he had been wrong. The melodies hadn’tceased. The stomping of crushers lead the rhythm and the organism ofAperture joined in: panels hummed as they moved and computers beeped.The sounds of gel slapping against the walls and dripping throughpipes, the gentle murmuring of toxic goo in the ponds, the song ofthe wind whistling through the chambers. The melodies never ceased,they only changed. They were everywhere and everything, they werecomforting and guiding.You just had tolisten.
When even the Heavy Metal Core gets out of his room you know it's time to stop