#looking at cathedral references to draw

[otherwindow]

Paranormal setting where demons and vampires urge their online friends to tag holy imagery warnings because crucifixes on screen still harm unholy entities

#vampires #demons #ey #my art #vampire artist wearing sunscreen and sunglasses on google images #looking at cathedral references to draw

[guacamoleroll]

𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

content. gn!reader. major spoilers (bsd s5 ep 11), language of flowers, grief/mourning, dissociation, major character death, multiple extended metaphors, biblical references, established relationships, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, i apologize for this in advance. not proofread. 1.2k+ words.

author's note. partially based on an old post. i have cried multiple times throughout writing this oneshot (which has been oddly therapeutic). i hope my fellow fyodor lovers are taking care of themselves this week.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖘 / waɪt ˈrəʊzɪz / ━━━ used to symbolize remembrance, love, and respect for the departed person, and a way of telling others that the departed has gone to heaven (Thursd).

A warmth burbled inside the hearth as swirled streams of flame billowed in gusts to then melt. Beams of amber shined against dusty glass frames splayed on a mantle, immortalized faces incandesced in the flickering shimmers of light. An older couple stood out against paled snow, hands resting against the shoulders of their budding son, whose eyes bore the most piercing of hues. Another sat beside it, captured from the same year. That same boy snuggled against the shoulder of another child as they both burrowed in the shade of a Linden tree, its branches unable to conceal the purity of their smiles as they relished in the company. Their frigid fingers intertwined as autumn turned to winter, heartened enough by each other's presence alone. Each photograph was a mere piece of a procumbent gallery; not an inch of the wooden surface remained uncovered as a story unfolded between each one.

However, a painting towered above them all.

Soft strokes blurred the resemblance of an anachronistic cathedral, walls sown with ancient tales of worship and devotion destined with promises of a life beyond living. But the centerpiece was them, a pair of blooming faces with those same intertwined fingers, eternally bound in the holiest of displays. Those piercing eyes, now delicate as the boy, who had grown into a man, looked upon his beloved with once-in-a-lifetime veneration.

The crackles of a record clicked into place as it spun endlessly on its track, humming a gentle melody into the comfortable ambiance, thawing the glacial remains of lonesome silence. (Name) nestled into their husband's office chair, fingers dancing across the worn surface of a letter. Fondness shone upon their face as they traced each smudged letter, allowing themself to be swallowed into leather. They flicked one of the papers with a resounding fwick, a glimmer in their eyes.

Nights ensnared in the confinements of a cell would only draw out yearning in the most desperate of men. But I will feel the touch of your enlightened hands in due time, моя милая. Like Joseph returned to Asenath, I will be home in time, as the Lord allows. Со всей моей любовью и душой, Федя

Yearning sighs escaped their lips, careful to place the letter back into an overstuffed box piled high with months of correspondence. They spread their hands against the arms of the chair, grasping onto the ledges as if holding onto another, head tilted back as tired eyes fluttered shut with a harmonical whistle in their throat, only to be interrupted by muffled knocks resonating from the front door.

The sequence was familiar — precise but shaken. Their eyes widened, breaking from the web of warmth as they rose from the chair. It was one of his subordinates; it had to be. Their feet pounded against rickety floorboards, the inanimate house bustling with life as they scrambled to mend their appearance. A heart pounded into the open air, swinging the door open, only to be met with the stars that forever drifted in the sky.

So gentle they were. So peaceful.

But it was not a person that they expected, instead immediately looking toward their feet with a knowing huff. And there it was, lying limp on the doormat — a bouquet of flowers.

These were unusual flowers, not unknown, but not the typical crimson salvias or milky corianders that usually arrived with each delivery. A frown deepened the insomnolent contour rooted in their eyelids as they bore their gaze into the menagerie of mismatched petals, enflamed anticipation glaciating into cool desolation. They lifted the bundle with utmost care, breeze twirling the ringlets of their hair as a forlorn omen. The door rocked back and forth as the wind went unnoticed, skin prickled as the heat of summer skies frosted over as they walked further into the house's silhouette.

Each flower was carefully plucked from its companions and spread in lonesome piles on the cold kitchen counter. Vibrant lilac shades of heliotropes blossomed, mementos of Tyrian eyes frozen in eternal devotion, softened only at their touch.

Paper scratched the soft skin of their palms, hands quick to toss out imperfections that sunk to the bottom of the wrap. One took a brilliant aquilegia, twirling it in their finger as violet speckles flaked into the air with each twist. The last they had seen these flowers was the eve of their engagement. Whispers of their resolute, intertwined paths were loosened from tight lips by a wine that had pried apart their own so intimately.

The blade of a knife sliced through solid air, a resonant haze efflorescent with each cut. They did not care to flinch as it slivered through their skin, silent as they beheld the vermillion that splattered the stem of a weeping hyacinth. These burdensome flowers danced in the eyes of Moscow passersby's sorrow, lining the trail toward an isolated mortuary rooted into the hill that overlooked their childhood home.

Each was placed carefully into a stiffened vase, crossed to shape a flawless display of rich purples and pinks. But even in the midst of such vibrancy, such life, one flower peeked underneath the rest, ghostly white petals acting as the centerpiece to this puzzle.

White roses.

Only once had they seen these flowers, often turned away with a constricted heart whenever their eyes merely glanced upon those petals. That same older couple, their faces immortalized not in bushels of homely flame but instead spectral through the flickers of a vigil. Those piercing eyes, the same that dared to carve into their very being, dulled in the gloom of despair, creased as sleep evaded the body and spirited abandoned the soul.

Perhaps it was for that reason he knew to prepare flowers; that no words could relieve the aching years bound to follow.

They loured upon the embodiment of their destination, life washed out by the emptiness that stood before them. Goosebumps scattered across the skin, an unforgiving frost rooted in place as their fingers twitched against wood. Then, the monotony snapped, the wound pulsing with pain as their body careened. Their eyes drifted from those retched flowers, falling upon a chair — his chair.

And they knew.

None would sit there. Not ever. The seat would remain forever occupied by the smoke of a spark snuffed out eternally, erased in only a few short moments of recollection. Cruel. The mind is but an uncaring machine, able to reach thoughts no human could bear.

And they trembled in the consequences of thought, far too conscious to move. Nails carved irate indentions into the table as knees buckled beneath them, body collapsing onto the cold wooden floor as deafened sobs excavated from their lungs. They clawed at their throat, unable to breathe as ignorance escaped them, paralyzed as if the reaper himself had mercifully struck his scythe down upon them.

A presence watched from beyond a now motionless door, snow-white tresses that shone against beams of moonlight, a man wincing at the guttural, broken screams of an empty heart that echoed from inside. The house was far too still now, far too large for only one soul to occupy. Unable to bear another moment of torment, he scraped the dirt from his uncovered palms, neglecting the tears that stained his cheeks as he fled from the home, now only a mausoleum of memories sitting within a field of grieving stars.

моя милая = my darling со всей моей любовью и душой = with all my love and soul федя = fedya

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅ #gn!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [fyodor] #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd s5 ep11 #bsd s5 spoilers #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor x reader

[hellonerf]

suicide is discouraged in the workplace

im not even gonna try to be coherent here. this is not an analysis post i am braindead. if i was a better artist makima wouldve been my muse when i was deep into chainsawman. actuallt she kind of was but i pussyed out

OK everyone here can subconsciously understand this connection. dont get too hung up on makima's strong motherhood theme and i just thought about what if ame was motherly and i couldn't kill myself right aftee thinking that as i have no means to it. that was a joke its late and im just me. i decided i wasnt a fan of motherly ame though so all suicidal thoughts erased. i am really chill now

old makima fanart i drew that im trying not to rip my hairs out over thinking about it with ame. also dont worry if this makes tou find my mainblog or main accounts whatever

actually theyre really different in many ways now that im looking at these. ame is so much of a son and makima is so much of a mother its like oppsoite spectrums. but thay makes the commonalities fun actuallt. i keep thinking about the movies and makima hating bad movies. ame is not an art kid by any means does he even care of the beauty of the world? i doubt it. but he likes bad movies and he likes cheap entertainment so who knows... they'd disagree on that. well i think makima's opinion on that was pretty extreme so i think most would disagree with her really

i could imagine ame going "Chainsawman. Doesn't spit." and smoking for the first time to look cool like in movies only to pathetically cough. thats their common trait... artifice... humans... but in a way that loops back to being Really Human i guess. holds a kind of arrogance and hubris that is so associated with humanity. it cant be anything else. ame should kill himself i think he should get moments of clarity and awareness and want to kill himself rqlly bad

both concepts of control. awesome. SUICIDE IS NOT ENDORSED IN THE WRKPLACE. ame goes to protestant church once or twice and sleeps because hes useless. makima is baptised and goes to local catholic churches not the cathedrals she supports the local christians.FUCK i just remembered the country mouse city mouse thing. ame is a liar and hates everything and loves everything and never feels content. i like to imagine him as a country mouse so fucking bad i want him to chill out one day and go to those middle of nowheres i know exist in america(can i shove cana in here and get away with it). why are they in the city if they are country mice? because..... you know..... you understand..... another w for eternal unhappiness (refer to title of this post)(suicide is discouraged in the workplace)

they are evil bosses i am the employee and when i ask for a break they gaze at me with a vacant stare and smile and i know in my heart they are viewing me like i am beneath them. i get scared and run away but truth is they didnt hear my request. they do not register individual people

if they met they would know immediately and viceversa. because everyone knows subconsciously because lying is futile and everything melts away. ame:i know a toxic boymom when i see one... okay im kidding makima is a toxic boymom if u push the chainsawman in ur head 🙂 ame as a kind of control devil works inmy head. i really believe ame was a polite child but demanding in many ways. sincerely wanting.

ame:gun devil i'll give you one year of the lifespans of the american people. in exchange i want you to kill makima—that is... the control devil (i never got around to drawing this)(ame and gun devil can you imagine)

or:gun devil i'll give you one year of the lifespans of the american people. in exchange i want you to kill alfred f jones—that is... the united states of america (paradox)

throughout all this i wanted to cite the best makima artist in the world ever but i'd feel bad if they wouldn't want to be associated with evil hetalia america blog. also i want to be normal and not cringe at being cringe just becayse i think makima was a thunderstrike of genius that i shouldn't taint. ame is a more flexible character to me for obvious reasons. this is how i'd shove ame into makima's role. but u couldn't put makima as ame. only one way. im okay with that. concept idea consensus words fear control blablabla u get the point i hate using words dont care sleepy now

#ame bible #hetalia & chainsawman #maybe this post disappears later i dont know

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Notes from Twelve Caesars: Images of Power, by Mary Beard, chapters 1-3:

Roman art and imagery have always been politically charged. Pagans, Christians, atheists, authoritarians, (small-r) republicans, and others all use it to claim historical precedent, represent their values, and find like-minded people.

This frequently leads to thematic conflicts and awkwardness. E.g. Andrew Jackson refused to be buried in a (supposed) Roman emperor's sarcophagus, because it reeked of monarchism. Horatio Greenough's statue of George Washington was modeled after the Roman Cincinnatus, but modern people don't catch the reference. They're more likely to ask, "Why is this old man so ripped?"

Part of what makes this difficult is that the vast majority of surviving Roman art comes from the imperial period, not the republic. There are relatively few Roman symbols with no autocratic or "kingly" connotations.

However, Roman art and history was never exclusively an upper-class hobby. Collecting Roman coins was popular and widely affordable from the Middle Ages onward. The history of the Roman empire was intricately linked to the rise of Christianity, so it was important to how most Europeans understood their religion and worldview. Even if you couldn't read, you would probably see Roman emperors in art, or hear stories of how early Christians interacted with the empire.

Image of Nero at Poitiers Cathedral, pointing toward the crucifixion of Saint Peter in another panel; he is dressed like a contemporary king at the time the window was made.

In A Rake's Progress, William Hogarth depicts all Roman emperors but Nero (red arrow) defaced, symbolizing the rake's descent into Nero-like depravity. Hogarth must have expected his audience in the 1730s to catch the reference. These days, in most countries, Roman history is considered more of a specialty field than basic education.

There are long traditions of both representing Romans in modern dress, and of depicting modern people like Romans. This usually wasn't a mistake on the artist's part, but a conscious choice. Putting Romans in modern dress helps convey their power or personality in visual language we already know - think Marcus Crassus in a businessman's suit. Meanwhile, putting modern people in classical dress and settings was intended to give a sense of gravitas, timelessness, and to legitimize power.

Left: George Sackville, Duke of Dorset, by George Knapton. Right: Julius Caesar by Titian, upon which Sackville's portrait was based.

So you can absolutely draw Mark Antony in a miniskirt. It's a time-honored tradition!

Framing and gesture are important. Sackville's portrait above is obviously supposed to make you think "conquering hero." One painting might tell you Claudius was destined to become emperor, making him look noble and chosen by god(s)...

(Unknown artist, workshop of Giulio Romano, The Omen of Claudius' Imperial Powers)

...And another artist might portray Claudius as a frightened old man, and the imperial court as ruthless and bloody:

(Lawrence Alma-Tadema, A Roman Emperor, 41 AD)

These paintings will give you two very different ideas of what a monarchy is like!

Roman portraits have also influenced European physiognomy and phrenology. Busts attributed to famous Romans were taken to represent the actual men's features, and thus their personalities. Ironically, many of these "case study" busts later turned out to be fake. Phrenology has now been discredited as racist and pseudoscientific.

Sketch of a bust of Vitellius by Giambattista della Porta, emphasizing his "uncouth" temperament by comparison to an owl. Phrenologists believed the shape of a head could predict personality.

And of course, fascists have appropriated Roman imagery for their own propaganda. I believe fascists appeal to "superficial history" like this as a way to claim their extreme, hateful policies are actually traditional, and therefore normal and legitimate.

Mussolini abolishing the Italian Chamber of Deputies in front of a statue of Julius Caesar, which he had relocated to Rome's city council chamber. "One dictator in front of another," as Mary Beard aptly put it.

It is sometimes difficult to separate Roman imagery from these authoritarian connotations. Even before fascism, European nobility often used it to symbolize their own power and legitimacy. But I think the more modern creators adapt Roman history and imagery, for a wide variety of purposes, the better we can keep it from getting entirely tainted by extremists. I love the folks here on Tumblr who make art, comics and memes of their favorite weird little Romans. History is for everyone.

After all, most Romans weren't emperors. Just ordinary people like us.

#i'm not even halfway through the book i just have lots of thoughts 😅 #mary beard #twelve caesars: images of power #jlrrt reads #jlrrt essays

[qqueenofhades]

How accurate is the ‘medieval peasants worked less then we do today’ statement? I looked it up because I find it very hard to believe, but had trouble making sense of it since history is not my strong point.

The answer to this is complicated, and represents a lot of (indeed, often erroneous) assumptions about past and present alike. Either the past is presented as a terrible place where everyone was miserable and dirty and assaulted all the time, or as an essentially more idyllic and pastoral place where people didn't have to contend with capitalism, credit scores, minimum wages, underpaid work, and all the other onerous apparatus of the modern economic system. Of course, neither the excessively bad or the excessively good version is true, and usually reveals more about the point that the modern debate wants to make, rather than anything to do with history itself.

First, I would like to note that the whole "all non-king medieval people were peasants" stereotype likewise really grinds my gears, and it is often presented uncritically in claims of this type, clearly intended to draw a parallel between overworked medieval people and overworked modern people. Which is fine, but again, not entirely accurate. As should be obvious to anyone who thinks about it for two seconds, medieval society consisted of all kinds of people and all kinds of occupations, both skilled and unskilled. Like, who do y'all think built the cathedrals? A bunch of random grain harvesters from nearby Podunkville? There were brute laborers who pushed wheelbarrows and hauled stones and etc, but there were also highly educated architects and engineers, who knew how to do things like make sure Durham Cathedral would minutely adjust over hundreds of years to the boggy ground it was built on, and not just fall down. There were master artisans, masons, glassworkers, sculptors, carpenters, etc etc. (See the creator of a recent "medieval" Netflix show claiming that medieval people had no use for art and me wanting to kick him like a football into the stratosphere). In towns, there were merchants, brewers, embroiderers, greengrocers, butchers, bakers, everything else you need to run a basic local economy. There were soldiers and mercenaries and other military occupations, which became increasingly professionalized throughout the medieval era and not just a matter of recruiting the local guys from down the road. There were priests and clerics and an extensive church bureaucracy. There were academics and professors and scholars and writers. Etc etc etc.

Anyway, the point is that when you're talking about medieval peasants, you're probably referring to the people who lived in largely rural or agrarian environments and made their living primarily from subsistence farming and animal husbandry for a landlord. Obviously, they did work hard in physically grueling occupations (though they were generally not malnourished and starving, as I have written about before, except in years of bad famine or crop failure, and then their wealthier employers would suffer too, because they all existed in the same material goods universe, whereas the rich and poor are millions of miles apart today). Their wages were often low, and even in the absolute worst of the Black Death’s first wave in 1349, King Edward III of England issued the Statute of Pleading that attempted to keep wages down and prevent peasants from negotiating for higher rates, even in the middle of a literal fucking apocalyptic plague and crushing labor shortage. (He was ultimately not successful). Widespread discontent with the exploitation of the peasantry, the crushing tax rates to fund pointless foreign wars, and other oh-hey-that-sounds-familiar problems led to the Peasants' Revolt in 1381, and the widespread popularity of the Lollards, a social and religious reform movement who criticised the static hierarchy and endemic inequality of medieval European society. So there were obviously some of the same problems as there are today, especially in regard to economic inequality and systemic oppression, and medieval peasants, far from being stupid sheep who just put their heads down and took it, were just as involved in trying to organise movements and protests to change it.

However, medieval peasants did not exist in global capitalism (obviously) and thus both their work and the reason for it was different. This was before the Protestant Ethic of the late 19th/early 20th century, that explicitly linked religious salvation with hard work in the capitalist system. Martin Luther bitched about indulgences so much because it was an accepted system to just pay the church something and be like "okay I'm good, I can kick back and not worry about it." (The medieval Catholic church had many, MANY problems, but the fact that Luther is so often presented as the "good guy" heroically saving these lazy dissolute people tells you all you need to know about how Protestant triumphalism informs Western historiography). In 1215, at the Fourth Lateran Council, Pope Innocent III had to issue an explicit degree to order people to go to church or take communion more than once a year, which he would not have had to do if they were all mindlessly devoted zealots who spent every waking moment there. Medieval people liked to sleep late and chill out on Sunday, just like modern people do now.

Obviously, religion was a more explicit and structured part of their lives than it generally is now, but sometimes the "medieval people worked less" argument is presented as the all-powerful and Machiavellian church craftily providing the people with a lot of public holidays so they didn't revolt against them. As noted, medieval people complained about and ignored and rebelled against the church anyway, and anyone who ever tells me that they were all uniform and brainwashed and always accepted the Catholic church's view on things needs to read one (1) book on the 13th century. Besides, the church just never had that level of total control over society anyway, and this presumes that everything they did was in deliberate bad faith solely to preserve their secular/social power -- which, while secular/social power was also often at stake, is likewise a wildly simplistic misreading of how things actually worked, and what the church actually wanted to do.

There were indeed a lot of public holidays, both religious (i.e. saints' days) and folk (Lammastide, the harvest, Celtic festivals, etc), where people weren't expected to work, and/or to go to church instead. As noted re: Pope Innocent and his struggles in this department, this was often not necessarily the case. There were also ordinary community holidays like house-raisings, weddings, christenings, Christmas, etc etc., where people could (and did) often have a good time for days. There were fairs, tournaments, carnivals, markets, and other opportunities for leisure or to attend entertainment events. So it certainly wasn't the case that peasants were always slaving away with no respite, and that if they weren't working, they were in church. They also didn't have to work for their entire lives; elderly peasants could retire and be supported on a portion of the overall estate yield, in medieval social security, and if this wasn't given to them, they could and did sue their landlords to get it. So yet again, medieval life was NOT just nothing but filth and misery and being worked until you dropped. People are people. They have lived as people in all ages and eras of the world. They have enjoyed themselves and worked and lived and died. We do need to examine the very real problems of the modern world, but I continue to hope, however vainly, that we don't need to keep relying on excessively distorted versions of the medieval world to do it.

#anonymous #ask #history #medieval history #history of religion #people have always been people

[sanctus-ingenium]

answering asks vol 2.

'Smiths' can encompass enginesmiths (mercury), armoursmiths (mars), alchemists (saturn) and some others - generally a smith is someone who works with engines or metal in any capacity, whether by constructing them, managing their fuel, making armour, etc. all of them have a completely degendered role in the church. They are supposed to be wholly devoted to their craft & church, to the point of becoming almost unpeople, sexless.

-

I like pantera :) he's the main character beast sure (alongside leun) but he's got a lot of interesting history and has been through a lot.

To start out I do some basic sketches while looking at bestiary diagrams of the animal type. Then I draw the base proportions over a photo of the animal's skeleton. Once the joints are all in place and I could imagine it moving relatively freely, I pick a motif and design the armour shapes with that in mind (i.e leun's trefoils, taurus's waves). The motifs come from a bunch of sources - if I see them in medieval art around that animal, the beast's use purpose, the culture that built them and how it might differ in art styles to the 'basic' designs from the heart of the Mezian theocracy. Fun stuff like that.

As an exercise I have taken (human) characters from other settings and made holy beast versions of them, trying to imagine what animal it would be, what weapons, what armour designs, etc. Behold, Bowman:

It's a fun exercise! I recommend :>

-

Hi! Thank you for the suggestion! I actually did try to use OneNote for my thesis but I found that it ended up an extra step that got in the way. Instead I organised my reference papers manually (and wrote up all my bibliography by hand as well). I haven't heard of Notion so I might look into it :> as someone with adhd I find that the best way for me is to make it stupid easy, which is why discord works because I already use it for talking with friends and I like the mobile app.

-

SO true!! You can make whatever the hell you want forever and that sounds really cool, I'm glad I was able to help in some little way >:) (although, holy beasts are not robots.. i think the best description for them is just. exotic vehicles.)

-

lmao it's totally fine!! I love to talk

Sir Heaven had such a profoundly negative experience with Leun that he struggles with the concept of making anybody else do what he now considers to be his burden. He also feels that taking any new people inside Leun would endanger them.

The bishop of Salvius cathedral is the guy Heaven answers to, and his superior officer. The bishop has reported the matter to the pope and they're still working hard presenting new potential novices to Sir Heaven, but the thing is that Sir Heaven rejects them for seemingly valid reasons. He doesn't just say 'no I'm not taking apprentices', he says 'this one's reaction speed isn't good enough' or 'this one is too prideful'. But the longer he tries to keep this up, the more suspicion he heaps on his shoulders. If the time came, no, he would not be able to deny a direct order from the pope.

Ketjan was selected at random, one of a large group of other children who were not raised in the church. This is to ensure that there is no per-existing bias or knowledge of how holy beasts work. And he just happened to be the only one of the group who could master Leun's very demanding dialogue tattoo. The recruiting enginesmiths, who designed Leun's systems, were the ones to train him, but Ketjan was the one to write most of the procedures for operating Leun based on feedback from the dialogue.

-

Replies from THIS post:

@ospreyonthemoon @kicks-tiktaalik-back-into-water

Krokodilos had an amazing high-tech ventilation system that used active air pumps to keep it circulating. But exactly like the second reply says, it broke down frequently. And because of how it worked, the interior of croc had to be air-tight so that the pumps could work efficiently. And, of course, if it broke down, and it was air tight on the inside, it instantly became a more dangerous deathtrap than your average passively ventilated beast.

There were valves that could be opened in an emergency but these were only added after the first Incident. The pumps would break down from the fabric seals degrading, lose efficacy, and then the parts furthest from the pumps would suddenly not get enough air anymore because air couldn't be moved such a distance with faulty pumps. The reason his enginesmiths want him to be re-commissioned is because the only barrier was the material used for the seals, and they believe they can innovate some new materials or try something different and have it work. They were even thinking of trying natural rubber, which would have worked perfectly, but they never got approval for it.

#setting: mez

[rats-and-robots]

Abelard is used to the Rogue Trader’s… eccentricities. It isn't heretical to simply enjoy tighter spaces… but it certainly is odd that the man is often curled up–fingers silently flipping through some tome or another–high up in a crevice of the ship’s walls where he could, potentially, listen in to the goings on of his retinue.

Abelard has learned to scan the upper lines of the ship’s walls when searching for the Rogue Trader, but has also taken to doing so idlely, just to see if the oddly dexterous operator has found somewhere new to inhabit.

He doesn't do this to hide, he is easily spotted if one knows where to look. Most don't bother looking up. 

Odd indeed. But right now, it is some measure of very, very humorous.

Garion von Valancius is lounged in the intricate mechanics of the ship like some feline beast on some jungle tree branch watching and listening to the ongoing bickering between Marazhai and Argenta. Abelard has taken to standing aside, noticing that Argenta–having been around the Lord Captain as long as he has–has also spotted him, throwing glances upward at the man every few seconds to glare at him for finding amusement in this. Marazhai, on the other hand, has just made a scathing comment about the Lord Captain, using that insulting word to refer to the Rogue Trader.

“I believe I instructed you not to call me mon’keigh, Aezyrraesh.”

The drukhari jolted with all the grace of shattering glass, whipping around to look for where the voice came from. Argenta just laughed, and Abelard quietly chuckled into his hand.

“Up here.”

The dark eldar finally looked up, his face suddenly flush with fury and embarrassment, at a loss for words for a moment. Garion smirked down at him, the stretch of his cheeks distorting the warp-burn scar on the side of his face, patiently waiting the stunned xenos’ expression out. Finally, something came out of that fanged mouth, “What are you doing up there?”

“You haven't apologized–” Garion’s head tilts to the side, “–for your blatant disregard for my orders.”

Marazhai flinched, his eyes looking hard to one side, reminding Abelard of a spurned canine. He bowed his head ever so slightly, “My… apologies, Lord Captain…”

The Rogue Trader laughs openly, the metal claws of his replaced arm tapping along the metal he reclines on. “How obedient... You should behave even when you think I'm not around. Farris learned that lesson decades ago.” Abelard would swear an almost… hungry look crossed the drukhari’s face, but he promptly ignores it.

Garion clicks his tongue, the taunting grin falling away from his face, “However, as I've told the rest of my retinue; I am from a Forge World, I am far more comfortable in the recesses of machinery and cable than the open spaces. Out there,” he motions to the hallway, “I am exposed from many angles. Here, I am exposed from only one. Much of my idle time is spent in places like this.”

The drukhari considers that, head tilting to one side, “How interesting. Yet you're cornered there, not exposed and yet trapped. And what of your large open throne and Cathedral?” 

“I despise the openness of both, but they are expected of me.” The smirk does not drop from the Rogue Trader's face, “Do you really think I am trapped, Aezyrraesh? Do you plan to attack me? With a sister of battle and my loyal Seneschal behind you?”

“No, but–”

“I am not trapped.” The interruption comes with a tone of finality, “And even were they gone and you with every intent to kill or torture me…” Fabric shifts, and the man draws a long blade previously sheathed in his sleeve, “You would swiftly find that I carry as many weapons as you have spikes in your armor.” The blade is hidden again, “Are you satisfied?”

A snicker and a sneer, “Never.”

Argenta makes a disgusted noise and the argument starts anew. Garion and Abelard share a glance, a simple look that simply said ‘don't let them kill one another’ before the Rogue Trader rolled from his side onto his back in the small space and drawing his datapad back up.

Abelard walks over, leaning against the wall below his Lord Captain, “Should I stop their bickering?”

“They can handle themselves against one another. Just make sure they don't stain my carpets or waste their lives on one another if they draw their weapons.” A small ‘beep’ from the datapad as the man has fully tuned out the argument once again, “Ones with passion such as theirs should have the opportunity to deal it out with one another. The battlefield will be more tolerable if they settle themselves now.”

Abelard tilts his head back. He forgets, often, that this is not, in fact, the Lord Captain's first time commanding such a large group, he still seems so young, and yet he handles the rabble with astonishing grace. He had once been a Crime Lord, had a council beneath him of valuable assets as likely to stab him in the back as they are to be doggedly loyal. He supposes someone like Marazhai may even be more familiar to him than someone like himself.

“Will you openly spar with him as you have the rest of us?”

This seems to make the trader pause. Abelard can only guess what is on his mind in the silence that draws out after it–from Garion, anyway. Did a drukhari, of all xenos, deserve the tradition of the von Valancius flagship? Much less the same one that had antagonized them for so long? At least, that is the line of thought he assumes.

“...Yes. I simply have to finish recovering from Commorragh.” The barely-audible murmur was followed by another small beep. A quiet admission that his oldest wounds still scream at him from being back in the blackened city.

A nod, “I will have the observation deck prepared as soon as you are ready.”

The two warriors huff at one another and part ways, finally. Marazhai shoots a curious look towards the Lord Captain before making his way down the hall.

#agoraphobia oneshot #warhammer 40k: rogue trader #rogue trader fan fiction #abelard werserian #marazhai aezyrraesh #sister argenta #garion von valancius #crime lord scum is actually an iconiclast who knew #coughcough hesahereticactually coughcough #eventually ill get to garion/marzi #eventually #i have to lay out Garion's story first #i gotta have convoluted world building or its not me lmao #ress writes

[beesmygod]

Bloodborne questions rattling in my head -

Why does the shaman bone blade have shaman in its name? That's such a specific, almost regional term. Just a translation quirk?

How seriously do you take cut content in studying lore? I just learned about the Great One Beast, and there's a hell of a lot going on in that name alone. A Great One that became a beast? A beast that became a great one? Maybe just a placeholder name since file names refer to it as a silverbeast? Or, as it never made it in, should it be essentially ignored entirely?

ok business as usual, pure speculation is in italics.

this first answer is going to suck so bad: i basically don't have a single clue. the japanese word they chose to translate as "shaman" (祭祀者) doesnt appear on jisho or literally anywhere else in the game. like i just did a ctrl-f on the re-translation text dumps and found nothing. they seem equally baffled but one of the two translators notes that it's used to describe people involved in ancestor worship. the full word is "祭祀者の骨の刃". so like literally "_____'s bone knife".

there's no surprise ambiguity in the description. it doesn't resemble anything else in the game. the green goo (not blood, notably) oozing from it is not seen elsewhere. that emerald green color is unique to the blade.

what the fuck! they are also extraordinarily rare: the only place you can find them are in the nightmare of mensis in the "nightmare apostles" (big spider) room, where you can pick up six from the corpse of a healing church doctor in front of a little vestibule containing nothing. the only remarkable thing about this room is that it once contained a cut version of the giant nightmare apostle with the head still on. this is interesting only because it suggests that they're not just giant spiders, they are giant HEADLESS spiders. the connection the player was supposed to draw, perhaps, is that the headless nightmare apostles seen throughout the game have already been harvested for their goods.

this is uninteresting because there's 7 headless spiders in the room, not 6. maybe one broke?

the only other places you can find them are in the pthumerian labyrinth root dungeons in, specifically, treasure coffins. only after obtaining the lower pthumeru chalice will the item be added to the insight shop, so whatever those shamans were doing, it was very secret and very ancient. they are a 5% drop from brainsuckers...except for the ones in the cathedral ward and the orphanage, which are 2%. hey i never noticed that before. so that's where those brainsuckers running around yharnam came from.

the creation of this item is apparently linked to augurs/phantasms.

the spider guys are their own. thing. i haven't even touched them yet because, segueing into your next question, so much surrounding them was cut. there's a bunch of stuff in the game, especially relating to byrgenwerth, about reflections and symmetry that kind of hangs in the air awkwardly unless you start poking around under the hood and start looking at how much spider-related shit there is. and like. isn't a spider an invertebrate. isn't "apostle" another word for "messenger". anyone else seeing this. aren't these things augurs?

not for nothing, but amygdala is referred to as the "lost apostle" in the alpha.

when it comes to cut content, i take a very liberal approach and inhale all of it into my brain where i can sort it and determine what bits are even useful. i think this kind of thing comes entirely down to personal taste; some people think the completed project in its retail form is what should be analyzed on the reasonable basis that it's the story we were intended to experience. i don't disagree with this approach; my approach is like if i wanted to read "pride and prejudice" and decided after reading it to analyze all of jane austen's letters and biographies. like it's absolutely not required to enjoy or understand the story and themes of bloodborne; it's just a good example of how much a reading of a text can differ depending on how you approach it.

i wish we knew why the great one beast was cut because it was basically finished outside the textures being low-res. people have hacked a working version into the game and it looks like a hell of a fight. and you're right, it raises a lot of questions about what the hell a great one is. prior to this it was assumed that beasts were the opposite of great ones. but...maybe beasts are ONLY intended be compared and contrasted with kin. and a kin is not a great one. very mysterious.

#bloodborne #long post #bloodborne lore

[oddlittlestories]

Notre Dame Visit

Wrote up a little fic to go with this WIP fanart! This is inspired by @greghatecrimes elaborating on my life changing field trips post, and is currently brought to you by Anya’s prompt re my Halloween fic ask game.

Fic under the cut.

Chase & Thirteen as found family siblings. They're backpacking through Europe. Late s6 AU, probably consistent w/HH:Reprise. Trans masc bi Chase as a treat.

CW: mild travel danger, religious irreverence, religious homophobia reference

“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re sure?” Chase whispered. Not that whispering was gonna help him. She was loud enough for the both of them.

“Yes, we’re fine," Thirteen cackled, "now take the damn photo.” She raised her middle finger to the ceiling of the cathedral. He supposed it was her way of sticking it to all that religious homophobia. They were a hell of a pair to be anywhere near a cathedral—a failed novice divorced bi trans guy with blood on his hands, and a deliberately-irreverent bi woman after House's own heart. But as Thirteen liked to say every time she dragged him into a cathedral, which seemed to be as often as possible, they hadn't spontaneously burst into flames even once.

That said, Chase could just imagine a priest clamping his hand firmly down on his arm… Chase hunched his shoulders, trying desperately to look over his shoulder and take the photo as fast as he could at the same time. Maybe no one would notice. If he could’ve melted into the Notre Dame floor he would have. It was mortifying.

He took the photo and lowered the phone as quickly as he could. Still, it came out pretty cool.

“Okay, let me see,” Thirteen said, scrambling for his iPhone.

“It’s fine,” Chase insisted, trying to tuck the phone back in his jacket pocket.

“I want to be sure! What if it’s blurry?” Thirteen made grabby hands, struggling with him over the device.

“It’s not blurry!” he insisted.

“Then show me!”

“Fine!” Chase heaved a sigh and let her have the phone.

She snickered. “Yeah that’s really good, you were right.” She sent the photo to House before he could even try to stop her. Chase rolled his eyes. As soon as House got it, he’d do what he’d done with the rest: print it out and tape it to the ddx whiteboard. Foreman would text him to complain about how hard it was to ddx “now that it was a scrapbook instead.” Kutner would use the red sharpie he bought to draw horns on Thirteen and Chase in the photos.

It was a group activity, apparently.

Later that night, Chase and Thirteen crammed shoulder to shoulder at the bar of a centuries-old pub. It wasn’t far from the hostel, and around them spilled French and English and a bunch more languages Chase probably could pick out if he tried.

“Mm, this is delicious,” Thirteen said. “Here, try.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He leaned in and took a crunchy bite. It was the best toasted cheese on bread Chase had ever had in his life. “Wow,” he mumbled, mouth full.

“I know, right?”

On their walk back to the hostel, the lights of Paris were glittering. It wasn’t nearly as quiet here as it was in rural Spain, and Chase thought they were both dazzled by the city after that. Paris was definitely a tourist town though. They cut down a side street for a shortcut to their hostel.

Thirteen got distracted by something in a shop window. He wasn’t sure what, because by the time he noticed she was just behind him, a guy was cutting between them. He was a street hawker, with “I heart Paris” lanyards hung all up one arm. And he was getting in Chase’s face, trying to grab him.

“Woah, there, buddy,” Chase said. “Hands to yourself.” But the guy would not lay off. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was probably gonna get pickpocketed if he did nothing. Or worse, he thought darkly, noticing how the guy was subtly directing him towards a dark alley.

And suddenly Thirteen was there.

She slipped her arm around Chase’s shoulders and said, “My brother and I have to go now.” It was just surprising enough that she scooped him away from the hawker and out into the busy cross-street.

“Thanks.” His voice was breathless with relief.

“Yeah, I did not like where that was going. You okay?”

Chase patted himself down, trying to ignore the way “brother” was rotating around in his head. Even if it didn't last… He frowned appraisingly. “Yeah. I’m great.”

Thirteen grinned and they headed into the hostel together, where their room with its two twin beds was waiting.

They had it down to a routine now, so it only took a moment for them to change and crawl into bed. Thirteen turned out the light, and Chase pulled his soft blanket up to his chest. In the darkness, it felt safe to say things. He played the word brother over and over in his head. He knew it was true. But how often do you get that kind of thing confirmed? “I’m glad we made this trip. Me and you.”

“Me, too.” Her voice was warm.

It had been a hard year, but right here and right now, Chase was so, so happy.

#Chase and Thirteen as siblings #lifechanging field trips #house md #remy thirteen hadley #robert chase #Chase & Thirteen #Thirteen & Chase #found family #fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanart #my fanart #house md fanart #notre dame cathedral #Catholic cathedral #irreverence #Europe #Paris #France

[tiamat-zx]

History Repeats Itself

SPOILERS FOR MIGHTY NEIN ORIGINS: YASHA NYDOORIN

So we all remember THAT moment in “The Cathedral”, right? The moment that Yasha stabbed Beau in the chest with Skingorger thus drawing out a brutal gut punch of a reaction from everyone at the table, especially Ashley.

And then of course, the seven words that left everyone as stunned as the Laughing Hand just beforehand.

“It evokes imagery you’ve seen once before.”

Truly a traumatic moment, as everyone at the table immediately had flashbacks to how Mollymauk met his end by the steel of Lorenzo’s glaive.

…

…

…

…

Except…

Matt wasn’t referring to ONLY Molly when he said that.

Notice WHO he was looking at as he said those words, landing on Ashley.

Yeah.

He was saying that to Ashley… to Yasha.

Because it wasn’t Molly that Yasha had seen die in front of her.

It was Zuala. All along.

#critical role #yasha nydoorin #Zuala #Skyspear #mighty Nein origins #Mighty Nein Origins Spoilers #Mighty Nein Origins: Yasha Nydoorin #yasha origins comic #The Cathedral

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Darkness Lane by Joan Hassall [ x ] - the piece that most inspired my recent woodcut-style piece.

When I found out I was drawing for @gorgeousundertow's regency AU fic, Half Agony, Half Hope, as part of the @ineffableidiotsbigbang, I started looking up Jane Austen novel illustrations for inspiration and ended up finding some really cool art and websites! I'm posting about some of the images and resources I found because I think it may be interesting to others too (and even if it isn't, I'll have gotten the infodump out of my system haha).

Illustrations from Mansfield Park by Joan Hassall [ x ]

The link above points to a gallery on pemberley.com which has deliciously old-school DIY website HTML and a wealth of Jane Austen illustrations, as well as references for regency clothing. This was where I discovered Joan Hassall's work and decided I wanted to do a woodcut style piece (and then subsequently regretted it many times during the process of making it because I had no idea what I was doing). The detail, visual texture and dramatic lighting in her work is so cool and I just got more obsessed the more I saw.

See more Joan Hassall on tumblr via @uwmspeccoll (a very cool account!) here, here, and here.

The gallery on pemberley.com also had a bunch of Charles Edmund Brock illustrations, which I could not get enough of and so returned to the searchpage and found Molland's Circulating-Library. SO COOL! Jane Austen fans have bought illustrated editions of her novels and uploaded scans of them and oh my gosh they are all so beautiful.

Northanger Abbey watercolour illustrations by C.E. Brock [ x ]

Side note about Henry Tilney (Catherines' love interest in NA), I also came across this old fan page for him from a mostly-broken-links-now site called THE CULT OF DA MAN and um it's great haha, check it out. (reviews of artists representations of him, more delicious HTML, and pixel art (!) of da aforementioned man)

There's also an article on Molland's about Charles and Henry Brock and their Jane Austen works that I found interesting. Charles is better known and did far more JA illustrations, but I do really enjoy Henry's tinted line pieces! (the article also dunks on some bad reproductions of them haha)

Pride & Prejudice tinted line illustrations by H.M. Brock [ x ]

C.E. Brock also did really cool title pages and when I found out that fic banners were a thing I knew what I wanted to do! (with the help of the symmetry tool and undo haha, so much respect for traditional art)

Title pages illustrated by C.E. Brock [ x ] and my banner - the banner design uses elements of both of the Brock images.

So, research in hand/bookmarks folder and banner completed, I decided on a scene from Chapter 10 where our beloveds are standing beside the Thames in the moonlight after walking around London for hours together and talking (CUTE). I wasn't sure what buildings to include in the background, so @gorgeousundertow gave me a few suggestions: Old Southwark Bridge, London Bridge, Southwark Cathedral, and Clink Prison. I realized after a bit of sketching that bridges would be hard to show with the straight-on view I wanted to do, so I decided on the Cathedral, partially because I had also considered drawing a scene that takes place in Salisbury Cathedral in Ch. 7.

OK BUT HOW? I struggled finding reference images for a while until I realized this was LONDON and would be very Google Earth-able. Big ups to Frank Cosgrove, whoever they are, for uploading this haha. This was also where I found out that all the suggestions were from a very small area!

View of Borough High Street, London, 1830, by George Scharf [ x ]

The building in front of the cathedral looked too new, so I went searching for an older image and found the second image. It's a completely different angle but it was enough to get me past the 'oh no idk what do'.

the much brighter concept vs the much darker finished product, featuring a barely-visible Southwark Cathedral

While looking for images of the Thames pre-Google Earth, I also found this website called Dictionary Of Victorian London which has a whole bunch of old images and excerpts from newspapers, etc on a variety of topics. One of the categories, Sex > 'unnatural offences', had this excerpt from The Times (1863), which reads:

Thomas Lane, a coffeehouse keeper, No.9, Love-lane, Eastcheap, city, and James Mortimer, a seaman, were charged with unlawfully meeting each other to commit an unnatural offence. ... The Magistrate committed both prisoners for trial.

Ugh. I hate that so much. Some sexy stuff happens right after the moment I'd chosen, and reading that reminded me that such things would be much more comfortable and safe in darkness (or if ppl just stopped being homophobic, but barring that). I wanted them to feel alone, like the whole world was asleep and it was just them, outside of time.

With that in mind, the iconic Thames Walk Lamp had to go bye bye, and when rendering the background I tried to minimize any light - it's just the suggestion of buildings. I also added tree cover! I tried to imitate how Joan Hassall does trees in some of her artwork, but when she rendered trees like this they were usually farther away/smaller, so my version looks more stylized with how prominent they are.

The ribbon border and book quote presentation is of course more Brock, but by making it black and having the interior image use it as a border instead of a fade-out inside it, I made it a bit of a reference to the very cool foliage edges you see in the very first Hassall image at the top.

I used the procreate brushes from this post on the Procreate Folio forums if anyone wants to try them!

Also fun fact! The font for the quote is called Chanson D'Amour <3 (I initially downloaded it when making the banner before changing the banner font to one called Dark & Black)

------

That's all I have to say about the process for the piece, but here's a comic from Dictionary Of Victorian London, Thames > Sanitary condition that I thought was cute (and gross ig? but also cute):

a Punch comic from 1850, I can't link the page due to how the website URL system works but it's from the Thames > Sanitary condition page

#lol anyway back to reading fanfiction from the bang! #joan hassall #charles edmund brock #henry matthew brock #art process #eccles makes #ineffable idiots big bang #jane austen #illustration

[alexhwriting]

Bloodborne: A Study of Environmental Narratives and Ludonarrative Harmony.

VI. Synthesizing Theory and Practice

To refer back to the discussion of immersion and ludonarrative harmony, Bloodborne frequently blends the contextual elements of item descriptions with the content of the game, comprised of the enemies that the player must defeat. For example, several of the names that pop up in item descriptions are available to fight as enemies, those being Laurence and Ludwig, both of whom are referenced in item descriptions and brief cutscenes within the main game. In the narrative they are treated as prominent historical figures, which adds to the impact of the player’s encounter with them. Having these important characters appear within the game properly potentially deepens the sense of immersion and ludonarrative harmony of players by blending the line between context and content. They exist as distant characters in the broader story and history of the world, adding context to what the player must do to complete the game, as well as direct obstacles to the players progression as part of the content of the gameplay.

Returning to environmental storytelling and extrapolating the concepts out of Krzywinska’s discussion of World of Warcraft, we can see the emphasis on elements within the game world that convey meaning through our understanding of them as real-world objects. Bloodborne relies heavily on these environmental objects, embedding the story of the collapsing city of Yharnam. We can see this most clearly as the player investigates the ruins of the Old Yharnam area of the game, where there are fires burning and smoke everywhere to show the desolation of the place. The colors change to have more oranges and reds, with patches of smoke blocking the player’s view around corners. The architecture looks older, and the layout involves a lot more vertical movement on stairs and ladders compared to the earlier game areas. The door to Old Yharnam is marked with a sign that tells the player they are not wanted there, and the warning follows an NPC shouting at the player that they should leave. Ultimately that NPC follows the player around the area, shooting a stream of bullets from a gatling gun.  We can see this environmental storytelling of signage and desolation turn to ludonarrative harmony with the engagement of the NPC and the gameplay of avoiding the bullets of his gatling gun.

The harmony of themes and gameplay is most obvious in the Cathedral ward, where the player faces a descent into a dark pit to progress, the light of the area only dimly showing the platforms that can be landed on to make it to the bottom of the pit. In the best-case scenario, the player will land at the bottom having taken most of their health bar in damage if they are not killed by the fall. Since this area must be traversed to progress to the rest of the area, it emphasizes the theme of the game, that progress is painful and that the characters do not always know where progress will lead them. In this case, progress is represented by the fall, with landings obscured by darkness. This area in particular stands out for its use of ludonarrative harmony, the gameplay of exploration and taking damage reinforces the themes of the game. Progress, in the world of Bloodborne, is always painful, and knowledge always comes at a cost. In this area, that is unavoidably true.

Through all of these examples, these elements work in cohesion to produce feelings of immersion and ludonarrative harmony by blending the storytelling done through items and the environment with the active elements of playing the game and defeating enemies. This matters as it is part of the draw of Bloodborne, a game that does not outright tell the player a story but remains an immersive and compelling experience. It is also important to the concept of ludonarrative harmony that it can be achieved without an ever-present textual element in the form of dialogue. Rather than a phenomenon with precise contributing factors, ludonarrative harmony acts as a sweet spot of intersection that gives the player an immersive experience.

#video games #fromsoftware #fromsoft games #soulsborne #elden ring #dark souls #bloodborne #unpacking #2023 Work #Ludonarrative harmony #environmental storytelling #Bloodborne: A Study of Environmental Narratives and Ludonarrative Harmony #graduate school #grad student #Graduate research

[areas-of-fromsoft]

Bit of a weird story with this one, but here's why Heide's is my favourite:

So I wanted to draw one of my friend's OCs for his birthday and because he has severe aphantasia he always struggled to describe his character to me. Until that point I'd just sorta made up his design as I felt like it, but this time I wanted it to be accurate. My friend told me to reference the Heide Knights from DS2. Not too heavily but they had the vibe he wanted. I scoured the internet for high-quality pictures of these fuckers - specifically their legs cause I loved the way their greaves and poleyns looked. All the pictures were either blurry or at the worst angle imaginable. I searched for days. I spent hours trying to get references and it just wasn't happening. I could've asked him to stream himself playing DS2 to get the references but both of us have a really busy schedule and I'm stupidly stubborn. So stubborn that I went and bought the game with my pitiful student money just to get the references I wanted.

I cried my way through Forest of Giants, desperately trying to find the sacred Heide Knight, and somewhere along the way I started enjoying myself despite how much I was struggling. That's when I asked my friend how many hours it'd take to see the Knights because I was getting worried about deadlines. He dropped it on me that they were accessible from Majula. I dragged my pathetic, sorry, desperate, exhausted self all the way to Heide's Tower of Flame. Maybe it was paired with the relief of finally having references, but I thought it was on par with Majula in terms of beauty.

The gorgeous blue rooves and white brick look so incredible against the stars. The grand scale of everything paired with knowing that so much of the area is probably sunken beneath the waves. The mystery of the whole thing. Why did it sink into the sea? Why did they build it in the water? Why are the knights still here? What is the Way of the Blue? What was Heide? I was as awestruck as when I first saw the sea beyond Majula, especially when I realised that it was the same tower and cathedral I could see from the cliff.

I spent around 6-8 hours throwing myself at the tower over and over again until I'd cleared out almost all the Old Knights just because of how much I enjoyed being there. Eventually, I killed the Dragonrider and my Heide friends started attacking me. I don't like killing them (I just wanna sit down with them :() so I haven't been back in a while. It might be worth the trip though, just to look out across the ocean again.

Pictures for anyone curious about the drawing and a few extras, link says they're mature but they aren't (it's a Berserk reference too ;)): https://imgur.com/a/UbRrvhM

This is an absolutely beautiful story :’)

I’m so glad this game was able to help you do something great for your friend and that you enjoyed your journey.

I’ll agree Heide’s is one of the best looking areas in all three games (in my opinion) and your description of it is exactly how it makes me feel to this day every time I go there, I am enamoured by that sky and that architecture still.

please make sure you guys check out the art it’s really cool !!

Thank you so much for sharing this with us <3

#truly wtf this is amazing #ask #not a poll #ds2 #heides tower of flame

[uk3d]

Boston cathedral sketch | Limited edition fine art print from an original drawing. My sketches start life as hand-drawn graphite images made on cartridge paper. I often work on these with charcoal, oil pastel or Caran d'Ache to create the look I'm after. The artwork is then scanned and finessed digitally ready for fine art printing. This process often referred to as Giclée printing uses the highest standard of printing methods to give gallery quality results that maintain all the details of the original sketch. The graphite pencils I use are Faber-Castel, the oil pastels are Sennelier and the china-graph is Caran d’Ache. The inks are pigment based archive quality (100years+). The heavyweight specialist papers I use are of the best professional quality having a wonderful surface designed specifically for fine art drawings and illustrations. Very limited editions with only ten per size printed. All artwork is signed and includes a certificate of authenticity. The A5 are 5.8" x 8.25" (14.8cm x 21cm) The A4 are 8.25" x 11.7" (21cm x 29.8cm) The A3 are 11.7" x 16.5" (29.8 cm x 42cm) The A2 are 16.5" x 23.4" (42 cm x 59.4cm) Frames not included in price. Free shipping on artwork to UK destinations. https://www.seanbriggs.co.uk/product/boston-cathedral/?feed_id=3379&_unique_id=6637be8dca12a

#art #Bostoncathedral #drawing #gicleé #illustration #print #seanbriggs #sketch

[eirasummersart]

A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

Refering to this.

Thank you for the ask! Let's answer this one too C: Adding this after the full answer, I'm gonna add a read more because it turned out quite long hahaha

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate?

Ah, what medium of art don't I appreciate? I love art! I love reading, listening to music (and singing, but I'm not great at it hahah), sculpture, etc.

With reading, I mostly read fanfics lately, but I enjoy lots of typical books and authors too: Chaos Walking (Patrik Ness), the Lord of the Rings, Rick Riordan's books in general, MXTX's books, the Castle in the Sky. Those are the ones that come to mind first, my faves~ Of course, I include here manga and comics, there's sooo many I love as well. I do draw, but don't usually do comics (maybe someday!). Lately I've been loving Jujutsu Kaisen and Akagami no Shirayukihime, but I could recomend so many good ones.

With music I just always need some music if I'm not watching anything that has sound otherwise, I love so many kinds of styles, but I have a preference for melodic, mellow songs~ specially ones that I can sing along too. Lots of classical too (Chopin is my fave~). And piano is my fave instrument to listen to <3 I kinda talked about music already in the previous ask, so I won't go into more detail hahah

For sculpture I don't really have a particular artist I like, it's more a casual love. But all those "realistic" sculptures are mind blowing to me, how it seems completely real, specially fabric or expressions, but it's made of marble or another hard material.... man, so much talent, I admire them so much.

If we talk about drawing/painting I'm not proficient at but I still admire: watercolour is gorgeous and I am incapable of it. I love the art made with it! Oil and classic paintings as well, there's so many classic artists who have made amazing pieces. My fave is Monet! But I also greatly admire the ones from the victorian period in general. The way they render fabric and clothes is SO GOOD. I kinda emulate it unconsciously when I do my shadding ahah but I am sure it looks nothing like that xD Like, look at this art called "Flirtation" by Frédéric Soulacroix, that fabric 🙏🙏🙏 And the background is gorgeous too.

Also, I really enjoy watching movies/tv shows. Wether they're animation or not. Specially if they have good plot and/or if they have good photography/animation. There's so many beautiful works of arts in that medium as well. Ghibli movies are some of my faves (Howl's Moving Castle is my fave movie ever), Lord of the Rings movies are also masterpieces. I've also enjoyed lately the Poirot movies they've been making recently, they're really interesting and have great photography as well~

I have to say, I don't often watch theater/musicals because they're expensive and I'm broke af. But the times I went to see some, they're amazing as well 🙏 I'll include dance performances here too, because they're in a similar category to me.

I enjoy seeing architecture as well. My fave period for architecture is gothic! The way they did all those high arches and beautifully decorated walls. And the stained glasses! Sooo many great buildings!! Most of the ones I can see around where I live and was able to travel are churches or cathedrals. They are such beautiful buildings, even though I'm not religious in any sense at all, I always love visiting them and seeing them. But there's sooooo many amazing artstyles out there as well! Lique some Mosques are absolutelly stunning, with their intricate colorful patterns! There's so much good architecture to admire as well...

Also, I'll add that videogames are a form of art in my opinion as well, and I admire lots of creators. There's SO MUCH variety in this media, it's insane. Stuff like Return of Obra Dinn or Papers Please by Lucas Pope (who makes it all, including music, he's so talented), Baldur's Gate 3 (currently enjoying this one), Chants of Sennar, Binding of Isaac, Fire Emblem, Kingdom Hearts, etc. So many different styles but so fun and interesting. And also, so many good RPGs with amazing stories I don't think can be told in a better way using other media (Persona series, Tales of series, Dragon Age, the Nonary Games, Mother saga, Xenoblade Chronicles, etc.)

Sorry for the big rambling, I guess you didn't expect me to go into such a extended answer hahahah I really, really love all art of creation, it's such an amazing thing that someone visualizes something and can create it so everyone else can see.

I've said this over and over again, I wish I were filthy rich, so rich I could never ever use all my money, only so I could be an art mecenas (I think it's called patron in English, I like the word we use in Spanish tho XD) and give money to aaaall my favourite artists so they can just create without any worry at all, just focus on their art and not the money they need to make to survive. Just create their own stories, characters, art pieces, or create fanworks of any kind. I don't even want to request stuff I want to see, I just want to see what they want to create! What their mind can imagine and how they see the world!!!

Ah, if only...

Anyway, this has gone for long enough hahah thanks again for giving me the oppotunity to ramble~

And if you read till here, thanks as well for your time~ Feel free to send more questions for this ask~ (or anything else, really, if you want me to expand on any of these topics I mentioned here haha I'd be happy to~) P.D.: Just as I posted it, I also remembered tappestry/weaving/any kind of thread art. AND OF COURSE, fashion/outfit makers and designers!!! There's so much art in this world... so hard to remember it all, but it's all around us <3

#Yuki talks #atwstedstory #ask meme answer #Yuki rambles #a lot

[theoriesanddocuments]

Brice Marden (American b. 1938). 4 and 3 Drawing 1979-81. Ink on paper, 30 1/2 x 40 1/2. Private collection.

Looking at Robbie’s ink experiments using the steel brush, I thought of my very favorite Brice Marden drawing. This was made during a period when he was invited to create  a proposal to replace 19th century stained glass windows in a medieval cathedral in Basel, Switzerland. The commission was never carried out, but the work influenced the development of his later paintings.

The title, 4 and 3 Drawing, refers to the proportions of the paper, and to the way he used those proportions to give a sense of order to what might otherwise appear to be a random collection of horizontal and vertical marks. The sheet is divided into quarters and thirds. The divisions are only visible if you examine the width of each individual line: some of them extend 1/4 the way across the page, some 1/3, and this happens vertically and horizontally. The numbers 3 and 4 may have spiritual significance as well.

#Mentored Studies F22 06 Empty space