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chatburnspacialart · 6 months

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During the mid semester break, my partner and I met up at the workshop to work on the physical elements of our assignment. She would start working on our aluminium bird, while I started making a foam bird. It was at this point that we discussed incorporating a 3D element, specifically in the wings. We thought the foam bird would be a good place to start, so what I did was cut out templates of the wings from the base bird. Then I just scaled them down twice. I'll be honest, I don't remember what the machine I used was called, but I was able to cut out the shape of the foam bird with heat from this little blade-thing.

The result turned out pretty well - albeit a little wonky because of how unfamiliar I was with working the machinery (and the material, honestly). I don't have the steadiest of hands, so in some spots where I went slow or even stopped for a moment, my hands shook and I ruined the outline a bit. But it didn't really matter in the end, because my partner and I both agreed that it worked for the purpose we needed it for - and it was a module, not an actual artwork. The wings haven't been put on as of the time of writing this post, however, my partner and I were discussing how they would be attached. A couple of things that were suggested were, PVA glue, hot glue (on a low setting of course) or toothpicks. My partner was going to come back into the workshop soon, and so we both agreed to leave it to her to experiment with.

My project partner later in this week had then turned both the foam bird and the wooden bird into 3D models. For the wooden bird, she also carved out the wings and tail. She explained to me that we could add dirt and plants, adding another element to the project that she had an idea for in the beginning.

Dale Rodgers is an award winning metal sculptor and artist, and he created these pieces called the Flight collection. They're a series of metal birds suspended in vertical rectangle frames. They're supposed to mimic migrating birds, and the Madison Area Arts Alliance said they're there to 'nest' for the exhibition they were featured in, before migrating elsewhere. Rodgers himself calls them "gulls", and says they're a travelling exhibition, adding to the 'migrating birds' feel of them.

I love the fact that you can stand under these birds and have the feeling of watching them soar past you overhead. It gives them a sense of life, despite their mostly 2D nature. In which I mean that standing under them makes them seem 2D, while stepping back and really taking in the detail makes them 3D. This shift, both in perspective and dimension, is what makes this piece really interesting to me. While I don't really have the materials and time to make something of this scale, I think this aspect would have been incredibly interesting to explore.

Located in Fort Worth, Texas, this scissor-tailer flycatcher bird was created by studioOutside and is located in Bluestem Park in Alliance Town Centre. The large sculpture acts as a playground, able to be climbed on and played with, as seen in the above picture.

I really love the semi-realistic elements of the composition of the bird. The interactive elements are what I'm drawn to the most and I find the abstract nature awesome. Similar to what I discussed in my last post with Fiona Foley's work, the sculpture invites the audience, though mainly kids, to interact with it and encourages imaginative play. I really like this more childish rendition of the contemporary sculpture. I think that creating something in this style would be fun. While my own is, again, vastly different in visual terms, we come back to the similarities with the context behind it. The wish that the general public interact with it and invite some elements onf imaginative play.

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exoploring · 3 years

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leavin' home ain't easy

some details

- cleo's travel bag used to be her fairy alliance cape. she was in such a rush to leave that she just took it off, still bloodied from her death, and made a makeshift bag and stuffed all her items inside. the fairy clasp is there to pin the bag together and to serve as a reminder: trust no one.

- bdubs walks around in his socks/bare feet for the first few hours. he keeps going back and forth on whether to burn his soul boots or not. hes scared that if hes too fast in his former base, he might do something he wasnt capable of doing, even as a boogeyman. he might just kill etho.

- the arrow joel shot hit grian near his wings, so it hurts to fly. still, he's a great climber. so at night he uses the arrow that led to his death as a sort of hook to climb trees and while on the steadiest branch, would watch his old base from miles away using his parting gift from the southeners.

now has a sequel

#last life smp #last life #last life fanart #last life cleo #last life bdubs #last life grian #my art

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thegrimwulf · 5 years

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The Baroness + The Arcanist

The hooded Baroness made her way down the water-slick alleyways of Boralus. Her heels clicked, accompanied by the distant sounds of drunken festivities. At the midway point, she raised a knuckle to the bricks of the towering building and knocked, just as she had been instructed. Once, twice, three times. And then she backed away.

The stones wavered and, where dark stone had once stood, black oak took its place. The newly-fashioned door creaked as it was drawn open. On the other side of it, a tall, thin Kaldorei woman wearing a gown that would make Elune weep.

“Good evening, Lady Sunbane.” The Kaldorei stood aside, welcoming her guest into the building. Upon entering, the Kaldorei silently offered to take Kato’s cloak, to which Kato obliged, shrugging free of it.

“How are you, Miss Nightweaver?” Kato inquired, knitting her fingers together behind her back as she watched the Kaldorei woman.

Thelwyn Nightweaver hung up the baroness’ cloak on a silver hook by the door. She soundlessly rounded the baroness, her head tilted down respectfully, “Quite well, Lady Sunbane. And yourself? I do hope the journey was safe. I understand you weren’t on Alliance territory as of late.” Thelwyn led Kato further into the shop.

It was a welcoming place, elven architecture stretching high above them in peaked arches of silver. Candles floated above them, emitting a low light. Quills and parchment scratched on their own like mice. Moonlight washed over the room from a large door, a balcony on the other side of it. This would be impossible, of course, as they were in the low-alleys of Boralus, not the towering spires of Suramar. Kato’s eyes clung to the balcony curiously, the outside world nothing like the streets of Boralus she had just come from.

“I am well.” She eyed Thelwyn suspiciously, “I was conducting business on enemy land. I support the war efforts of the Alliance.”

Thelwyn paused then, tilting her head slowly, “I did not mean anything by prying, Baroness. My apologies if I have offended you.” The arcanist’s dress shimmered about her legs as she walked to the desk in the middle of the room. Kato’s gaze washed over the Arcanist’s back, the expanse of flesh marked by a shimmering tattoo. It was clearly of Highborne origin, exquisitely designed with the steadiest of skillful hands. The Baroness wondered who the artist was. The Arcanist weaved her fingers over the desk, a floating candle swooping down to illuminate the collection of papers and tools there.

Kato hummed an acknowledgement and nothing more, turning her eye to the balcony. She approached the open doors, the curtains billowing in the breeze. The world beyond the balcony stretched far below, a valley with a thin river winding through it. The mountains could barely be seen against the dark star-lit sky.

“What is all this?” Kato motioned to the balcony and what lie beyond it. Thelwyn offered a smile.

“Simply little illusions. Paintings are always nice, but it’s so much nicer when they move.” Thelwyn gave a light hum of laughter, “A little something I learnt in Suramar.” She snapped her fingers and the balcony melted into its frame, growing into a flat painting of a balcony with a view. Kato pursed her lips as she inspected the Arcanist’s work. Thelwyn continued, breaking Kato’s thoughts, “I have finished the project you wished for. I do hope it’s up to your standards, Baroness. I left it as best I could to its original appearance, as you did say it was an heirloom.” Thelwyn was holding a small black box now, taking her soundless, gliding strides toward Kato. She paused before the Baroness, gracefully extending the box to her.

There was the slightest hint of hesitation in the Baroness, but she took up the small box. The moment the box left her hands, Thelwyn turned away and busied herself elsewhere in the studio. Kato watched the wispy woman for a moment longer before she pried the box open, revealing her pocketwatch. It looked as it had when she had given it to the Arcanist a few weeks prior. She plucked it from the box and turned it over.

“You will find the only variations are the hands, which had to be changed to a more conductive metal. A small price for the outcome.” Thelwyn spoke, absent-minded, as parchment floated before her, her eyes scanning the words.

Kato opened the pocketwatch and found the golden hands replaced by a cool silver, though they remained just as delicate as before. She turned it over in her hands once more, brows furrowing, “How does it work?”

Thelwyn took a few moments, her attention on the gathering scrolls about her. She finally stole her gaze from the written words and approached Kato, her hands falling together before her, fingertip-to-fingertip, “Turn the hands to twelve and then push on the button used to open the watch. That activates the rune I placed within the clockwork.” Thelwyn spoke with a slow wave of her hand, “It took quite a few tries but my partner was a willing test subject, for lack of a better term. She too is a Ren’dorei.”

Kato did as Thelwyn instructed, listening to her as she continued to tell her tale of how she went about enchanting the pocketwatch. With the hands set at twelve, a push of the button, and in the blink of an eye, Kato’s void-tainted skin was washed clean.

“Oh, you look so lovely, Lady Sunbane.” Thelwyn chirped before her attention went back to her floating parchments.

The Baroness looked over her arms, seeing the pale flesh she had once been used to. As she tilted her head forward, her hair fell into her peripheral. White-blonde waves curtained her face and a quiet breath escaped her. She looked to the Kaldorei, “How did you know what I looked like before?”

Thelwyn hardly twitched an ear, waving a delicate hand and casting one of the parchments to float over to Kato. It turned to a mirror as it came to Kato’s front, reflecting her Sin’dorei reflection. She looked just as she once had, before the corruption of the Void. An unwelcome emotion crossed her face momentarily, wetting her eyes.

“The illusion cast here is not one made up like an ill-fitted mask. What this illusion is doing – if you want the specifics – is merely covering corruption, restoring what would be.” Thelwyn looked briefly at Kato as she explained, “It’s a tad bit more complicated than merely making a copy of your Sin’dorei appearance, but it will keep anyone from taking on your likeness should they get their hands on the pocketwatch.”

“And what if someone does get their hands on it?” Kato’s tone was curiously sharp, defensive.

Thelwyn paid no mind to the Baroness’ tone, “Depends, really.” The Kaldorei turned from her papers and held out her hand Kato, “If I may-” Kato returned the pocketwatch to the Arcanist – her Void appearance returning the moment it left her person – and watched. Thelwyn lined up the hands and hit the button. Her arcane-tinted eyes became purely silver – though without their Night Elven glow. The slight pink hue to her hair drained to leave it pristinely white. A gentle smile pulled at Thelwyn’s lips, “For me, it only takes away the small effects my magic studies have had on my physical appearance. Mine are not as drastic as yours are. My partner, upon testing this, took on her Sin’dorei appearance as well, though it also took it further than that. Fel-corrupt eyes of the Sin’dorei are also hidden. That is the one thing I could not figure out with the illusion. I do hope that is not too much of an issue.” Thelwyn handed the pocketwatch back, and upon leaving her touch, the effects of the arcane returned to her.

Kato gave a slow nod, watching as her Void-darkened skin turned pale pink once more. She pocketed the watch then, recollecting herself and standing tall, chin raised.

“I do forget, Miss Nightweaver, what we discussed for payment. I assume a respectable sum of gold to be acceptable?” Kato inquired, watching the light, airy movements of the Arcanist as she continued her studies. Her repeated disregard for the Baroness was beginning to strike a nerve.

Thelwyn’s ears pricked and she waved the flock of parchments away. She folded her hands in front of her and smiled warmly, “As you may understand, I do not have much need for gold. I can disguise a simple stone as a gold coin if I truly needed to.” Thelwyn’s posture was relaxed – leaving the Baroness surprisingly unsettled. Thelwyn swept a piece of her wild curls away from her face as she spoke, “What I would truly ask for as payment would be my sister’s contract.”

Kato’s blood chilled. She hid it spectacularly well, nary a flinch or raise of a brow. But she could see in the way Thelwyn remained careless, relaxed, that she knew what she spoke of. She was not poking and prodding for answers. Thelwyn already had them. She had laid out her trap and Kato fell for it without flaw.

“Your sister’s contract?” Kato inquired, doing some poking and prodding of her own, “I don’t believe I am familiar-”

“Alryeth Nightweaver.” Thelwyn interrupted coolly, as though she were talking to a casual acquaintance and not a viper, “An Illidari that came to be under the employ of the Harlequin Gang, Lady Sunbane.”

Kato made a silent display of remembrance, “Oh, do forgive me.” She pressed a hand to her chest, “As a business woman I deal with so many.” Kato gave a slow shake of her head, “I’m sorry if I am the bearer of bad news... but your sister passed some time ago.”

“I am aware, Lady Sunbane. That is why I ask for her contract. I wish to collect all things pertaining to my sister, as is my right as her blood relative.” Thelwyn gave a gentle smile, her eyes half-lidded. She was leaning against her desk now.

“I am unable to give you the contract, as it was binding between employer and employee. There are so many messy laws.” Kato gave a pitiful shake of her head and knitted her fingers together behind her back, shoulders held back.

Thelwyn chuckled like a child, “Yes, but considering my sister is now deceased, any contract that bound her would be finalized, null and void.” Thelwyn paused, watching the Baroness for a few silent moments. The Baroness saw it then, the shift in her body language; the way the arcanist lifted her folded hands, fingertip-to-fingertip, not quite relaxed anymore. Thelwyn continued, “I know you are a wonderful warlock, Lady Sunbane. Your reputation precedes you. And I know that warlocks do not think of death as the common folk do. I imagine the contract signed by you and my sister covered the happenings of death, should it arise.”

Kato tilted her head away from the Arcanist, glaring down her nose, “You are clever, darling. I seem to have underestimated you.”

Thelwyn gave a light shrug, “I know it is your gold that is sent to my doorstep every month, as I assume was agreed upon in the contract. And I know it is not the Alliance that you aid in your independant business efforts.” Thelwyn’s voice remained light as though she were discussing yesterday’s dinner and not blackmail, “I am asking for the contract as a show of respect and good faith, not because I cannot acquire it. Regardless of your answer here, I will have that contract.”

The Baroness narrowed her eyes at the Arcanist. The silence was deafening. Though Kato’s stare bore into Thelwyn, Thelwyn’s eyes wandered about her place of work. Kato moved her hands, the slightest spark of Fel at her fingertips. She saw it, in that moment. Indeed, she had underestimated the Kaldorei. The Kaldorei’s visage wavered in that miniscule moment of threat. She was nothing but a conjured illusion. One that could be touched and heard as much as it was seen. The error of Kato’s assumptions ate at her inside. How could she have grown so foolish?

“Very well.” Kato said, resting her hands in front of her, mirroring Thelwyn. “I will have the contract delivered to you. Is this address prefered?”

Thelwyn – or the illusion of – shook her head, “That won’t be necessary. I just needed your verbal approval. I had someone go pick it up while you were testing out that new pocketwatch of yours.” Thelwyn smiled and lifted her hand, a sealed envelope materializing between her fingers. Kato recognized the symbol in the wax, knowing all too well it would match exactly to the ring on her finger.

“I am not one you wish to make an enemy of, Arcanist.” Kato spoke directly, her voice growing sharp.

Thelwyn pushed off from the desk, the contract vanishing the moment it left her fingers. The Kaldorei glided effortlessly towards the Baroness, towering over her. Her finger hooked beneath the Baroness’ chin, tilting her head back.

“I have been walking Azeroth’s lands far before you were even an idea. I will be here long after you are forgotten.” Thelwyn’s face remained expressionless, half-lidded gaze weighing on the small Void Elf, “Don’t forget your cloak on the way out, Lady Sunbane. It’s quite cold on nights like these.” Thelwyn stood upright, her finger slipping free from Kato’s chin as she turned away. Her form collapsed in on itself, confirming that Thelwyn had never truly been there.

Kato stood where she was for several moments, teeth grinding as she processed what had just occurred. Just as she was wrapping her mind around it, the desk became a pile of torn bags, spilling chicken feed. The floating parchments and candles disappeared. The balcony sealed off and the silvery walls melted away to reveal rough brick and molding wooden beams. The high-arched ceilings were no longer, the rafters of the true ceiling hanging only a foot above the shocked Ren’dorei. The floor beneath her feet was packed dirt, water having gathered about her boots. The pristine workshop of the Kaldorei had been nothing more than a cellar, an immaculate display of spellwork.

Kato made her way out of the cellar, retrieving her cloak from its place on a broken crate. She ducked into the alleyways, her mind left reeling.

#grim writes #OC: Kato #OC: Thelwyn #world of warcraft rp #Void elf #Kaldorei #Rendorei #Night elf

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theherocomplex · 7 years

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2 and 3 for Heroes and Principalities?

2: What scene did you first put down?

Well, Heroes and Principalities was, at first, a third-person, multi-POV fic that was meant to be much, much longer, and deal with corruption in the N7 program – but then I trashed that approach and went with a second-person POV that ended up working really well. But! This was the first scene I wrote for the original version of the fic (it isn’t revised, since it never got past the first-draft stage):

“She’s unpredictable, stubborn, skates right up to the edge of insubordination — and that’s before you take into account the possible mental trauma.” Admiral Keyes tossed the datapad back to the desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. Only six hundred hours, and already he wanted a drink. “I know you have a great deal of faith in Lieutenant Shepard, Major, but I remain unconvinced that a soldier with her…background is fit for such a delicate mission.”

The thin, grey woman on the other side of the Admiral’s desk didn’t reply. She clasped her hands over her knee and waited, staring at Keyes until he sighed and picked up the datapad again.

“If you’re that insistent on sending a biotic, there’s always Alenko. He’s the steadiest L2 we’ve got. Standard three-person fire team as back-up. He’s not N-school, but he’s —”

“It has to be Shepard,” said the Major. Her voice sounded like wind through dry leaves. “Alenko is talented, but Shepard is —” She spread thin, grey fingers wide, and smiled. “Shepard is creative.”

Keyes felt the first low starburst of a headache behind his eyes. “Creative? You realize you’re talking about a soldier who used only biotic melee on a ship full of slavers. Because someone dared her to.”

“You’ve already sent in an infiltration unit.” The Major spoke softly, mercilessly. Keyes knew there was no point in demanding to know how she got hold of that information, and could only summon weary irritation at the moles she had in his office. “The mercs wiped them out,” she went on. “They’re prepared for tech — the last intelligence you received suggests they may even have experimental cloaking technology — courtesy of their hostages, of course.”

Wanting a drink turned into needing a drink so quickly Keyes’ stomach cramped. “How the hell did they manage to grab an entire research unit?” he asked, rhetorically. The answer, such as it was, he already knew: the mercs were ex-Alliance, dishonorably discharged and looking for blood. Now they had a whole toy box of experimental tech — and the scientists who had developed it.

Once again, the Major didn’t reply. She brushed imaginary dust from her trousers and refolded her hands over her knee. “All the more reason to use a creative approach,” she said finally, in her dusty voice. “Shepard’s as low-tech as soldiers come. She only has the bare minimum of combat upgrades, and on a planet like Terra Nova, any eezo signatures the mercs pick up will be attributed to standard ship traffic. She’ll be on them before they even know she’s there.” She smiled, white teeth glowing in the low lights, and Keyes shuddered. The Major had come on his order, but even with all the ranks between them, he could never quite shake the feeling that the Major thought of him as food.

“Shepard is N6,” continued the Major. “If Akuze was going to be a problem, it would have surfaced long before now.” The Major’s smile widened, and widened. “You know we do our best to root out the worst in our candidates.”

Oh, yes, Admiral Keyes knew. He’d made it to N5 himself before his worst won out. Not the first dropout, nor the last. If Shepard had made it to N6 without cracking, especially with Akuze looming over her, then maybe she was the best for this mission.

And if she wasn’t? Well, at least they wouldn’t lose another entire unit this time.

The cold math galled Keyes, but he ignored his distaste. “Fine. Shepard it is, then.” He scanned the datapad one last time. “Says here she’s on leave, headed for Thessia.” Keyes arched an eyebrow at the Major. “Will we be able to pull her in time?”

The Major nodded, already standing. “I have a shuttle standing by to take me to Thessia. I’ll brief Shepard myself.” Her smile dropped away, leaving her face as blank as cool quartz, and just as colorless. “We make it a point to brief all N7 candidates in person,” she said, and saluted before turning to leave.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Is it cheating if I say the very last line of the fic?

The last time you die goes like this:

#meme replies #thank you lovely!!!#it always makes my day when people ask about this fic <3 #continuousspec #long post

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abujenna · 7 years

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Amos 1:1-2

Around 760 BC, God called Amos, a rancher from the rugged hill country of Judah, to preach in the cultic centers of neighboring Israel.

This was a time of relative peace and prosperity for both kingdoms, and for the northern kingdom in particular. Following a period of decline and occupation, the powerful but distant Assyrian empire had broken the back of Damascus, Israel’s main local rival; and recent kings benefited from their acquiescence to Assyria’s hands-off rule. Israel now controlled the disputed northern Transjordan, which brought a dramatic increase in agricultural production and international trade. Together, Jeroboam II (786-46) of Israel and Uzziah (783-42) of Judah ruled for about 40 years over a territory that was said to have rivaled Solomon’s empire.

It was apparently not a common occurrence for a prophet from Judah to preach in Israel. Although nominally sister nations with some shared customs, they had maintained their separate existence for at least a century and a half. Mostly they seemed to share the same divine patron, but with greater apparent diversity in the north, a less radical opposition to idolatry, and a less centralized system of worship. According to the biblical narratives, this trend went back as far as Jeroboam I, leader of the northern secession, and his fear that continual pilgrimage to the temple of Solomon in Jerusalem would spell the end of his rule. He is said to have presided over a complete overhaul of the priestly system and the founding of new cultic centers. Ahab’s later Phoenician alliance brought temporary religious conflict over a new deity, but the eradication of Ba’al worship marked only a return to the earlier practices of Jeroboam and his successors. By all indications, idolatry and syncretistic paganism persisted in Israel until its downfall.

Not that Judah was altogether different. Despite a roughly even split between good and bad kings, the biblical historians repeatedly emphasize that even the good kings failed to eradicate localized worship on the high places until after Amos’s time. Given the repeated abandonment of the temple in Jerusalem, it seems that the steadiest current of religion in Judah was probably as syncretistic and decentralized as in the north. But exclusive worship of the true God was promoted more often by the kings of Judah, and when the temple was operating, it probably served as a centralizing force in the community. Amos’s opening words express his southern faith, as God’s voice of judgment comes roaring from his temple in Jerusalem to wither the very ground of Israel and its neighbors.

Amos was also one of the first prophets whose messages we have in written form. We get a few summary proclamations from Elijah and Elisha, but nothing like the detail we find here. Like most of the writing prophets, he looks ahead to imminent destruction as punishment for Israel’s sins. It probably seemed a far-fetched message at the height of Israel’s power, but after the death of Jeroboam, a more aggressive Assyrian policy would in fact provoke Israel into new conflict, leading ultimately to the destruction of the northern kingdom.

There are some obvious differences between Amos’s circumstances and ours. However powerful Israel and Judah might have been, they never came close to the role that America has in its world today. But there are some attractive similarities as well:

For its time and place, Israel was quite stable and prosperous. There was plenty of reason for complacency among the people, and as Amos contends, their prosperity came at the expense of compassion.

Although nominally part of the people of God, Israel’s popular faith was essentially pagan. In the broad scope, its prophets were more about displays of power than speaking truth.

Amos would have to tread carefully if he wanted a hearing with the Israelites--get them to listen and sympathize, without sacrificing his integrity. As we’ll see next time, the rhetoric of his opening oracle is designed to catch his audience off guard.

#Amos

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