the one thing i will say on the Trump verdict is I'm seeing a lot of posts about basically "how can we let a FELON run for PRESIDENT (and/or vote)" which is making me feel very "don't make me tap the sign" about why folks who've been convicted of felonies also deserve the right to run for office/vote and how creating categories of people who are not allowed to run for office/vote is a great way to incentivize pushing political opponents (or members of marginalized groups) into those categories in order to disenfranchise and disempower them
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Ugh, I wish more artist friends were supportive instead of... competitive. I hate that this scene has turned into that. Like... we all are in the same boat here, trying to make a living doing what we love. And it's already agonizing as it is. Can we not be at each other's throats, consistently trying to show people up who are less successful?
I'm tired of it. I'm tired of trying to make a name for my business only to be stepped all over because I don't have the reach/client base/skill/whatever the fuck else compared to everyone else.
For once, I want to be fucking supported in what I'm trying to do.
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Continuing off my thoughts of making Sol a creacher, maybe something not cat, maybe dead, maybe spirit. Nothing I want to put a definition on.
Sol starting out as just a sort of odd looking cat. Fairly tall & lanky, short fur except for his mane and tail, male calico type deal. A little off putting, but nothing too alarming. He comes in rare times of peace, asking for nothing more than an audience. He sticks around.
Then the story continues, the clans grow restlessness around each other.. He draws Hollypaw/leaf in more. He casually picks at the threads of the code. And...he makes some sense. Does he look a bit different? His muzzle longer? No, must be the light.
Then things get worse, threat of all out war, each clan for themselves. Hollyleaf & others now listening to Sol's message. He's right, isn't he? But one could swear he towers over you a bit more His teeth look sharper. His grin wider.
Everything goes to shit. War. Death. Can't trust anyone. And a creature, large and imposing stands over the chaos. He doesn't join in the battle, oh no. He's simply there to watch the panic unfold as the moon slips into place, darkening the midday sun.
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I wish all insurance companies that rely on unscientific and inaccurate indicators of illness to approve higher levels of treatment a very Die :)
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