#this was the one year i switched which comic store i was working at and then went back to the hell shop i am still stuck in today

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, I was just thinking about the UA entrance exam.

Specifically, how terribly designed it is, but not for the reason they seem to give in the story itself.

Like, here's how it is: Aizawa is shown criticising the UA Entrance Exam once, during the Sports Festival. And the ONE criticism he makes, is that the use of Robot enemies during the exam would disproportionately affect people whose Quirk work against biological opponents, essentially.

His one criticism, is that the exam is not designed to also cater to people like him, and that's it. The way therefore it's set up, it'd be logical to assume he'd ask for a restructuring to the exam to remove the Robots and substitute them with live enemies, possibly Ectoplasm clones.

This is never brought up again, aside from maybe a stealth bring up during the mid term exams when they switch the exam from fighting robots to fighting teachers.

The exam is, and I just got to it myself while watching this video about how Copaganda paints police training and the relative risk police officers face on the job, set up in a very specific environment:

An empty town, where what is essentially a murder spree is taking place. The ONLY entities in the place, outside of fellow examinee, are robots that have been literally designed to attack everyone on sight, and that need to be destroyed to pass. The points granted from saving people are hidden, so they can be more "genuine" of course, and are, ultimately, also part of the problem.

Because here's the fucking thing.

When the fuck is that ever going to happen.

When the fuck, is a superhero, after their 5 years of Hero training in high school, then entering the work force without a need for a decree in higher education, ever going to find themselves in an environment where they can use LETHAL FORCE on civilian targets? With no restraint or care for collateral damage?

And where they are ENCOURAGED to kill as many criminals as they can, and NOT collaborate with other heroes? Because that's another thing, you need to steal points from other people to pass, by culling the number of limited robots, much like heroes are paid by the arrest and by popularity.

You do understand how fucked up that starts to sound right? The other, the enemy, is reduced as a caricature Droid from star wars, there only to kill and destroy, and against whom your only TWO methods of defeat are outright destruction or sneak attacks on their off buttons.

And here's the cherry on the shit too, because, AGAIN, when is that EVER going to be the case?

Do you know how many heroes show up in the first villain attack in BNHA?

Five.

Two are engaging a purse snatcher, three are doing crowd control, the Slime Villain, who may I remind you was guilty of robbery at a convenience store before he got the hostage, gets THE NUMBER ONE HERO, as well as those same FIVE heroes involved, of which only BACKDRAFT is actually doing anything.

Now, imagine you are a hero school, and you produce 40 heroes a year, just like every other hero school out there. How many of those heroes will see active duty, if the rate of crimes demand FIVE heroes to react to ONE criminal?

And people will say "but EDS, this mentality is later rewarded when All Might retires and it all falls to shit," Except NOT REALLY, because that's an externally forced situation caused by, and I can't stress this enough, a hundreds of yeas old NEET boomer who read too many Doctor Doom comics as a kid and decided to become a supervillain, the riots, the open air warfare, is only caused by AFO forcing the hand and inciting popular unrest, which is an unrealistic thing to expect off any society.

In one of the movies, Class 1-A is sent to open an hero agency on a small island with barely a village on it. 20 Heroes. Until the movie truly picks up, the best they do is help kittens from trees, and Bakugou, the sort of person for whom the Entrance Exam was designed, is useless, left in his tent like Achilles, the perfect cowboy cop who peeked in highschool and didn't realize just how much paperwork and dead time his dream job actually entailed.

So that's the ACTUAL Issue with the entrance exam. It take no account for any other mean to beat the robots but brute force, it takes no account for collateral damage, or the sanctity of life of your opponents, and it tests nothing but how good at ending lives you are.

Which is a problem when you're picking future heroes.

#mha critical #ua critical #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #UA Entrance Exam #bnha critical

[gmbencompetence]

Arcana Fans,

Can we talk about the Tarot Decks? The Arcana Tarot Decks. I’m proud of them. It also ends in a painful memory. They are, all in all, the high and low of my time at Nix Hydra

In short: I’m one of the main people that made Arcana Tarot Decks a reality.

My job was answering emails, monitoring the Arcana social media tags, and generally having my finger on the pulse of the community. I knew that, by a wide margin, Tarot Decks were the biggest request. My coworker (who shall remain nameless for their privacy) was part of the team that made the Arcana and knew how much Tarot resonated with fans. This co-worker and I fought for about 1-1.5 years getting them greenlit.

In all honesty, they were a completely audacious idea. Nix Hydra didn’t make much money from merchandise. Maybe $100 a month. The cost of an *initial* run of Arcana Tarot Decks would take something like $25,000 to get going. This is because of creating the art, securing people to help package/ship them, actual costs of packaging/shipping itself, and more. Also, my partner on the project was very insistent that we work with a company that produced them at an extremely high quality with gold trim edges. Gold trim edges was important (they were right).

So, the Nix Hydra merch store made less than $200 a month, and my coworker and I were trying to pitch something that would COST $25,000~ to get started. If it made $25,000 back, that’s still a waste of time because it means we would have made the same money just skipping the whole thing.

This next part is fuzzy, but if I remember right, we tested the waters with stickers. We stocked Arcana stickers to see how quickly they sold. They sold fast. Like… fast. This was good. It was our test case to at least prove that “People want Arcana Merch”. It heated the iron, and my coworker and I struck. We got the approval!

So here’s the most nerve wracking moment of my career here. I’ve been in the game industry 12 years, but I’ve never run a merchandise store Nix Hydra. Even after that, I sent out a few sticker sheets every month. Forget about convincing a company to invest $25,000~ into my mad idea. And then… if they DID sell. What, then!? I always have a lot of anxiety, and I kept thinking of ways it could go wrong. What if I broke some international shipping law? What if I did the math wrong and operated at a loss? What if the site charged people the wrong amount? I KNEW the Tarot Decks would sell, but that was scary, too!

The day came that we flipped the switch. I was so excited. I was so excited! I was so… scared. At this point, all that was left was to see if we could make above the starting amount…

We made about $200,000 in the first 24 hours. Now, this was 3-4 years ago, so I may be SIGNIFICANTLY off. But my point is that we made six digits very quickly. By this same time tomorrow, this went from “Gunpowder and Coworker’s brassy, sassy idea” to “Merch is a hit! What’s next?”

Over the next few months and weeks, we had a joyful hectic hell of the best anxiety. Problems would come up. We’d knock them down. We’d run out of storage space in the office and it would look almost comical. We’d have truckloads of shipment issues. I soon found out that simply taking the packages to the post office was its own complicated project. All of this expanded into hiring people to help with merch. These people were extremely passionate about The Arcana and began to be advocates for what merch to add next. I could gush about how amazing they are for hours, but for privacy’s sake, I’m refraining from saying much about my coworkers.

So like that, we went from “Merch doesn’t sell” to “We need a merch department” in a few months. By the time I left the company, the CEO (you’ve seen his name around) projected the Merch alone to be a $1M a year revenue stream. I don’t know if we ever hit that goal. My point was that he felt it was possible, which made me happy.

… which brings me to how the story ends painfully. I have moderate ADHD. I personally think it’s severe, but my doctor says moderate, so hey. I tend to fall behind on assignments a lot. I also tend to get distracted super easily. It can ruffle feathers in a work environment. I did not realize how much. See, this project was in full swing, my work was going well, and I had also designed all the gameplay of Heart Hunter (that was me! I’ll write a post on that later). I felt good about all of this. I had a meeting with the CEO and was going to ask him for a raise.

“[Name], just so you know, I sometimes sit and my desk and go over the pros and cons of letting you go.” He said it conversationally. It was casual to him. My stomach fell out. I asked him why, and it turned out that he was being very, very literal.

See, he made a pros and cons list of every thing he likes about me and every thing that he doesn’t. I’ll spare you the whole list, but in the Cons side was “Doesn’t focus on work all 8 hours of the day”. I was flabbergasted and told him “But… I do a lot of projects. And YOU said the merch store is estimated at $1M a year!” At this point, it is extremely important to note that nothing about the merch store was in my job description besides “Ship stickers and answer emails”. Literally everything I mentioned above were things I did in my spare time without being asked. Out of love for the company.

“Yes, I agree that you’re very passionate and creative. See, I put that on the list!”

He points to the Pros and Cons list. “passionate and creative” is cancelled out by “doesn’t focus all 8 hours of the day”. It was a tie. The project I co-led started a whole new department and seven-digit (estimated) revenue… it wasn’t even the only one I did (Heart Hunter was also a side project, albeit one I was assigned). And all of that, in his mind, was cancelled out by “doesn’t work all 8 hours a day”.

I never got a raise. I never got a bonus. I never even got job security. None of it mattered to him.

I started looking for a job the next day.

—-

There’s more to the story, but I think this is the main point. This is the best and worst of Nix Hydra. It was a place where people like my coworker and I would make extra time to work on new things simply because we believed in our work that much. Where players joyfully supported our work because it resonated with them. Where new employees would be so passionate about their work that they would keep an entire department afloat on their own fantastic ideas. It was also a place where none of this could even amount to job security or recognition. It was frustrating, and it was joyful.

I meant every single smile at a public event. So did every member of the team that was there. It was never “just PR”; it was people who were over the moon to get to help create these stories and worlds and moments. We loved it. But management never loved us back. And that stung.

-

Thank you, every single person who posted their tarot decks. Who put them into your cosplays. Who did readings.

Thank you everyone who posted your Heart Hunter moments. Who shared the postcards I fought tooth and nail to see in the game (It was SO difficult to convince some people that “postcards would be the type of reward players want”).

My entire life, I’ve had joyful moments in games and game communities. My lifelong dream was to help make those moments come alive for others. When you all celebrated this game and those aspects of it, that was very genuinely a lifelong dream come true.

Thank you for reading this. And also The Arcana.

#arcana #the arcana #nix Hydra

[lilblucat]

I just saw the ask by slushysblog. In response you sent a gif that blew me away:

You see, I'm just getting into digital art, and my PC can only handle about 5 or 6 layers before my graphics environment crashes. (Ofc this forces me to restart my PC and lose anything not saved.)

I've learned to work around this, my art isn't nearly so complex as yours, but I know if I want to continue I'll have to get a better computer at some point.

I was hoping you could tell me a bit about the technical side of your work. What are your PC specs? What software do you use? That sort of thing.

Thanks in advance! I love your art!

My set-up is complete overkill for art. It's a heavy gaming-ready desktop PC I got a few years back that I've upgraded the RAM and storage on over the years. I was doing fine with 16GB of RAM but I always have open a lot in CSP and other stuff so upgrading was definitely something I needed to do. 16GB should be fine for most people though.

You can also see that I run Arch Linux and uh yeahhhhhh it's a long story. The short of it is that my old laptop broke its Windows install during an update and I was completely unable to fix it so I just.... switched to Linux lol. I started out on Ubuntu and switched to Arch after a while. I don't rec using Arch unless you know what you're doing, Ubuntu is way easier.

What you might find more interesting is my away from home set up on my laptop since it's an older gaming laptop.

The graphics card is actually a NVIDIA Geforce 850 or something. It's so old that you can't play some games on it. However, I have no issues with it for art. I can open my comic project files in CSP fine on it. It's also running on Linux Mint, which isn't showing up on the little image for some reason. Both of my devices run Linux, but that's a me preference/need thing and I don't rec messing with your operating system if you don't know much about computers. It gives me a bit of an edge since the system doesn't use as much RAM as Windows but yeah don't touch unless you're committed to learn. Windows will serve you fine. Or MacOS even.

As for my program, I use Clip Studio Paint EX. I bought Pro a long time ago and upgraded to EX because of the extra tools for comics and animation (I've heard animators don't like CSP though, it's the BEST program for comics however). It's a really solid program but the recent changes to pricing and updates is really stupid. Fun fact: I use only default brushes and materials because getting it to run on Linux breaks the store. I also use an older version of it because of how I got it working on this system.

For my tablet I use an XP-Pen Artist 12 Pro. It's a pretty solid screen tablet on a budget (I bought it on a sale) and I have no issues with it. I actually partly got it because I thought it was cool that XP-Pen carries official drivers for Linux too, and this helped a bit since this was before Windows bricked on me and I switched to that. It was kinda weird how it played out lol. I would heavily not rec a Wacom tablet unless it's an older one for cheap. Wacom is stupidly expensive and you can get a better bang for your buck at other companies. My first tablet is a Wacom and it's still holding up pretty well but their quality on their new tablets isn't great. Check out XP-Pen, Gaomon, and Huion for better tablet options.

#not art #shortformdrip-blog

[wutheringmights]

"We’ll Meet Again (Some Sunny Day)” - Unfinished Bonus Links Draft

Over half a year ago, I swore that I was going to write a story based on @ezdotjpg​‘s @bonus-links​, which I never finished. This is in part due to a) me being absolutely devoured by CTB, b) me realizing that this story was gonna take 20k to tell at a minimum, and c) me being struck with a wave of insecurity; in short, I got really worried that I was not writing War and Spirit correctly and was projecting too much CTB onto them.

I had resolved to wait until I see them in the comic so that I could get a glimpse of their dynamic in action, but that might take a while. So in the meantime, here’s what I have.

Some Notes:

Obviously, this is just a draft so the writing/editing may not be up to snuff

I tried my best to gleam mannerisms and personalities from some posts Em made way back when, which I am unsure is still canon or not

Spirit signs in order to work around a severe stutter for these sounds: B, S, Th, Ch, St, G, W; I based a lot of how he talks around that stutter on how I deal with my own speech impediment (which is not a stutter) (so take it with a grain of salt)

War has a cockney accent that, in the worst decision of my life, I attempted to write out phonetically; he then switches to something more posh and British sounding

Official Summary For The (Completed) Story:

Spirit and War have always haunted each other.           

(Or: Spirit can see ghosts. War treats him like one.)

----

Spirit crouched before the engine, oil drenched up to the elbow when the bell over the workshop door chimed. Alfonzo typically took care of the stray window shopper who didn’t realize an train garage wasn’t a store, but Alfonzo was out on a run that took him to the farthest reaches of the Snow Realm. By all accounts, it was Spirit’s job to greet the shopper.

But Spirit was precariously balancing about six different wrenches, trying to keep the loose cogs in place as he fixed one of the engine’s inner mechanisms. He almost had it too. He couldn’t abandon it now, not even to return his workshop to its tranquility.

“S-sorry!” he called out, swearing when his gloves slipped on the largest wrench, causing the cog it held to slip out of place. “Just g-give—hold on for a moment!”

The customer didn’t say anything, but they didn’t leave either. Spirit could hear them meander around the messy space, observing the walls covered in framed pictographs and the shelves brimming with engine parts. Spirit did his best to ignore then, but his attention helplessly narrowed on the faint clinking of chain mail and the soft intake of breath from someone who was surprised.

Spirit didn’t necessarily hate noise. Trains were loud. But it was easier to concentrate when he was the only one making a ruckus.

Admitting defeat, he began tightening the cogs and screws until he could safely remove his hands. He sighed as he stood, wiping the sweat off his brow. Belatedly, he remembered the oil on his hands, and grumbled as he shed his gloves and pulled a handkerchief from his overalls pocket.

He blinked. Sometime between starting this project and now, the morning sun had disappeared in favor of velvety night. Yet, someone had turned on the oil lamps, dousing the garage in suffused orange light. The shopper must have lit the lamps.

Slowly, he turned hands already rising to sign his question. But before his fingers could start the first sign, he was met with a man too pretty to be real.

Pretty really was the best way to put it. He was a decent height, but not necessarily tall—not that Spirit, having not grown an inch since he hit double digits in age, didn’t need to crane his neck to make eye contact. His lashes were long, curtaining half-closed eyes as he bent down to the base of the last oil lamp. A match glowed between his fingers, the flame bursting when it caught the gas. The lamp lit up.

The stranger stood upright. Eyes bluer than the ocean flickered to Spirit. His face held a sophisticated gauntness that made even the act of blowing out the flame elegant.

Spirit fidgeted, suddenly self-conscious of how dirty he was in comparison.

The stranger was dressed to the nines in a well-kept green tunic, with a blue cape draped around his shoulders like tinsel on a tree, pinned in place by an opulent broch. Even his boots, the ones that had echoed around the workshop, were shiny with fresh polish.

A man like this wouldn’t normally look twice at him, even when he washed the oil away and put on his castle guard uniform. But this one smiled so brilliantly that the ornaments on his body couldn’t compare. “It heaven and hell is ya,” the stranger said, flicking the match away. His accent was thicker than molasses. It made every word sound long and chewed out. “It looks like ya kept yer promise, conduc'aw.”

Spirit stared. “I’m sorry?” he signed. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s face fell. His boot scuffed the ground in an aborted step back.

Spirit frowned. With the handkerchief, he scrubbed the oil from his face. Seems like this stranger really thought he was too good for the likes of him.

The stranger cleared his throat. “Pardon me,” he said and, like that, his accent was totally different. Each vowel and consonant was crisper than fresh laundry, each syllable perfectly creased into place. It threw Spirit through another loop. “I seemed to have been confused for a moment there. Are you perhaps the Royal Engineer they call Link?”

Spirit nodded.

The stranger seemed to study him for a moment longer.

Spirit scrubbed his brow again, trying to get the oil off his skin. Just who was this guy?

Finally, stranger smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand. It was pristine. Even his nails were finely filed. “I am also named Link, but I am called the Hero of War. Tell me—are you prepared to perform your duty as a Hero of Hylia?”

Spirit stared. “What?”

Line Break

The Hero of War said to call him the captain, or perhaps sir if Spirit wanted something more succinct. But that last part was said with a rakish smile, so Spirit rolled his eyes and settled on captain.

From there, War’s good humor disappeared. Face drawn, he explained everything he knew, which wasn’t a lot—portals had appeared in his time, and someone named Lana had handed him a map detailing where in Hyrule’s convoluted history they led to (actual Hyrule, not a reinvention like New Hyrule). War didn’t know why the portals had appeared, but he had been in a conflict many years ago that had a similar mechanism.

“Get your personal affairs in order and make your goodbyes,” War said when his explanation was done. It was a weekend night, and chatter of couples and friends finding entertainment for the night drifted through the workshop’s windows. “Take your time, but we should leave before the new day.”

“Who said I’m coming with you?” Spirit signed.

War arched a brow. His lips quirked into something that was almost amused. “Because you wouldn’t let anyone walk into danger. Not even a stranger.”

Spirit scowled and signed, “What makes you say that?”

“This is far from my first encounter with another sacred hero.” War meandered around the shop, making tiny faces at the hodgepodge of half-made machineries. Whatever congeniality he had built up soured the moment he realized there was black residue on his fingers. He pulled a worn, red handkerchief from his pocket.

Spirit’s attention narrowed on it. It was frayed to the point where little flecks of broken thread fell from it like rain. If there was ever a print on the fabric, it had long been drowned out by noxious black stains. The captain didn’t seem to notice them, primly wiping his fingers clean as he said, “We are all beholden to the same virtues.”

“I’m not a hero,” Spirit signed. “I’m a conductor.”

“I know a hero when I see one.”

“You’re looking for someone else.” Spirit marched over to the door, turning around so that War could see his hands. “You need to leave.” He ended on a curt jerk of the hand before yanking the door to the garage open, gesturing for War to reenter the bustling streets of Castle Town.

War frowned, but something else in his face shifted as well. His charm had disappeared, and Spirit heard a warning in the back of his brain as War folded up the handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket. “You are Link of Aboda Village. You have always been able to see spirits and ghosts, though you ignored your sixth sense in favor of apprenticing as a conductor and train engineer. Through hard work and study, you became New Hyrule’s youngest ever Royal Engineer.”

War walked up to him, ever footfall a punch to the gut. “However, your first months as the Royal Engineer were put on hold when the Spirit Tracks disappeared as well as the Princess Zelda. Luckily, your senses allowed you to see that she too had become a ghost when a dark demon ejected her from her body.”

Spirit’s hands shook too much to sign. They became fists at his side as he stuttered out, “St-st-st—”

“You fought the Demon Malladus and rescued the Princess Zelda. You restored the Spirit Tracks across Hyrule. You were given charge of a sacred train as well as a sacred sword. You are the successor of the Hero of Winds and an incarnation of the Hero’s Spirit.” He stopped right in Spirit’s face, close enough to make Spirit feel insignificant. “And you dare to tell me that I have the wrong person? Rest assured, Link of Aboda. I know more about you than you realize.”

Spirit stuttered over a few more syllables. Forget that. Without bothering to vocalize or sign, he pointed out the door. Get out.

War stared down at him for a moment longer. The corner of his mouth twitched the way Zelda’s did whenever she didn’t want anyone to know how mad she was. But his eyes were a different story. They softened, losing their intensity so quickly that it threw Spirit off kilter. “I’ll leave then,” he said gently. “If that’s what you desire.”

He stepped back, giving Spirit a little space. War managed a little smile before miming the tipping of his hat. “Good day, conductor. May the Spirits of Good guide you.”

His blue scarf trailed behind him as he left, entering the dark streets of Castle Town.

Spirit slammed the door back shut and pulled his gloves back on. He was retired from the  hero business, thank you very much. If Zelda couldn’t convince him to join the Castle Guard, then War couldn’t convince him to drop his entire life and go on some cross dimensional adventure.

But staring at his abandoned engine, Spirit couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to pick up his wrench and get back at it. All he could see was the gleam of the pommel at War’s side, how genuinely hurt he seemed when Spirit had turned him down.

How did War know his story? The only people in New Hyrule who knew everything about Malludus was himself and Zelda.

Did that even matter when War seemed like the type to throw himself into battle headfirst, heedless of whether he lived or died?

Spirit groaned and tossed the wrench aside. Barely grabbing his keys, he ran out of the workshop. Under the streetlamps, drunkards emptying the taverns glowed gold. Spirit stood on the cobblestone street, searching for the long blue scarf in the crowd.

“Hey.” Behind him, War leaned against the side of the garage. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he chewed a piece of candy on the side of his mouth. He grinned. “Changed your mind?”

Spirit frowned. “Give me three days,” he signed. “I need to make preparations.”

War almost choked on his candy. He banged a fist on his chest and spat it out. “Three days? We can’t wait that long!”

Alfonzo was due to return from his run by then. It would also be enough time for Spirit to finish his project and arrange replacements for the runs he was already scheduled for, as well as contact Niko and Zelda. He didn’t think War would understand that, but he hardly signed, “I need to get some things done” when War sighed.

“Well…” He mulled over it for a moment. “I have no choice but to agree. Three days it is.”

Line Break

Spirit was no stranger to ghosts. There was one now that frequented his apartment a few blocks from the workshop. It was the lingering spirit of the old woman who lived there previously, and she hated how dirty he kept his space. She seemed determined not to move on until Spirit learned some housekeeping. It was easier to just sleep at the garage.

But War couldn’t sleep at the garage. There was only one bed and it was harder than a sheet of steel: unbefitting of a man well-acquainted with the finer things in life. So Spirit had to take him home. He had half a moment to be embarrassed by the number of dishes he’d left to mold in the sink as well as the pile of oil-covered clothes and half-finished projects he’d left strewn about before War sighed and unpinned his scarf.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Of course, of course, of course.” He folded it nearly on the table, then added his sword and shield next to it. Then he rolled up his sleeves and started picking up the mess.

Spirit stuttered his own swear before rushing to help.

“Sorry I’m such a bad host,” Spirit signed when War did the dishes.

“Nonsense. It’s not as though I had given you any warning.” War scrubbed at a plate like he wanted to do much worse to it. “I remember when I first began living alone. It took me quite some time to master my own space. Speaking of which, how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

War paused. “Oh.” He set the plate aside. “You are much too young—to live alone, I mean.”

Spirit clicked his tongue and signed, “And not fight some evil?”

War barked a laugh. “If anything, you’re much too old for that.”

Spirit didn’t know what he meant. So while they did laundry under the midnight moon, War told fantastical stories of a hero who had fallen from the sky and the children who followed in his footsteps—their progenitor, their legacy.

The next three days were spent

#i literally haven't touched this since hold on let me check my doc #APRIL???? I HAVEN'T TOUCHED THIS SINCE APRIL???????? #DAMN OK OK OK OK OK #I'm sorry but ctb is literally all i have time for right now #bonus links #bonus links fanfiction #bonus links spirit #bonus links war #bl spirit #bl war #legend of zelda #loz #loz fanfic #me writing #fanfic draft #yes the title is a reference to the vera lynn song it's relevant #we'll meet again

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Activities OP Men Do with Their Kids Part 2

Hello Lovely spirits!!! This is part 2 of Dad HC for OP Men!!! My ovaries exploded writing this little series hehe. This will included Hawkins, X-Drake, Shanks, Sabo, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Rayleigh, Mihawk, and King I hope you all enjoy!!!

TW:Kids

Hawkins He would help guide his child to their spiritual gifts. Teaching them tarot cards and having them do their own readings. They would usually ask the cards almost anything in their daily life on what they should do and what to avoid. Hawkins would also talk about superstitions on what is real and what is not real to them. The child would also want to grow their hair out just like his. 

X-Drake 

 Drake would enjoy doing model kits of Dinosaurs with his child. He would ask certain questions like ‘Which Dinosaur’  and the child would answer with the correct dinosaur. His child would wear a dinosaur onesie and pretend to be a dinosaur as he would imitate Drake when they saw him turn into a x-rex. He would read to Dino stories or read chapters of his childhood comic Sora warrior of the Sea. 

Shanks 

He and his child would enjoy relaxing together. The child having his juice while Shanks would switch between a juice and a beer. Both of them would have the same humor, both of them would make another laugh  and it would make the other crew laugh as they would call his child little shanks. They enjoy tortilla slapping games and shanks will never be able to win due to him always wanting to get hit with the tortilla first and he would spit the water out making him laugh.

Sabo 

Sabo would use his devil fruit and let his child roast marshmallow for the smores they eat. They both would pretend to be critiques when it comes to ramen they eat and would say what compliments the ramen and if it was missing flavors. He would love to take his child exploring and even help them build their own little fort so they would be able to play in it. 

 Katakuri 

He for sure will have tea parties with his little one and their company would be all the stuff animals they acquired over the years. His child would love to be held to sit on his shoulder due to his height and they would see what he would see. If it gets cold when they are with Katakuri have no fear his scarf would keep them warm and they would be wrapped like a little burrito. 

Crocodile 

Taking his child on vacations very often, he  would make sure it is safe to take his child to the place before booking anything. Taking them to a little boutiques or shops where they have toys, clothing or anything he would make sure they are taken care of. If they pass by a pet store and the child happens to see a puppy that is cute, Crocodile would get that puppy right then and there. They both have a soft spot for animals.

Doflamingo 

They would have a little throne right next to Doffy’s throne. Another daddy that would take his child on vacation often letting them decide on what to do during the trip. If it requires Doffy to buy out the certain place for the day he would. If the child is into a hero like Spiderman he would use his devil fruit and have them look like they are swinging from a web. 

Rayleigh

His child would follow him around like a duckling following its mother with every moment. He would teach his child how to use a sword just like Zoro. It would make the heart very proud to see all the hard work they put into practice. Both he and the child would enjoy singing songs together no matter what kind of songs. Even during bed time Rayleigh and them would sing until the child fell asleep. 

Mihawk 

 Both he and the child would enjoy reading old fairy tale stories or classic poetry. He would help his child perfect their spanish. The child would drink grape juice in a wine cup to match Mihawk's wine class when they eat dinner together. Mihawk would also teach his child how to dance to all sorts of things. They would go onto the balcony, sit on the beach and they would watch the night sky point at different constellations. 

King

He would teach the history of the Lunarian to his child and take much pride in doing so. I see him styling his child's hair almost to replicate his own. He would train his child more rigorously, wanting them to become strong. Even the child wanted to challenge him and he wouldn’t say now he would see the same fiery passion in his child's eyes that has in his own. 

Tagging: @undercoverweeeb @kristaline2dmensimp @fireflykaizoku @starrybrujita @friendly-kaiju

#hawkins one piece #one piece #the witch of one piece #one piece scenario #daddy hc's #op dad hcs #king one piece #shanks #crocodile #sir crocodile #x-drake #x drake #donquixote doflamingo #doffy #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #charlotte katakuri #op katakuri #one piece sabo #one piece rayleigh #silvers rayleigh #basil hawkins

[jsab-crisis]

Just wondering; what else was in store if you don’t mind answering? Just curious.

Considering the comic was SO close to finishing it’s Introduction arc... well, a lot. 

For start, Blixter spent all of his childhood indoors and was homeschooled, being the son of three rich higher ups- he was obviously prone to danger. Since he’s out of the house and able to make his own decisions now while pursuing college, he already had a bounty on his head beforehand due to him sneaking out of the house and introducing himself as some “street punk’ who’s dirt poor. 

He stuck with that identity since he wanted to meet other people and even make friends, tired of just watching other people actually grow up with childhood friends and whatnot while he stays behind doors.

One of his dads, Chronos, had connections with other groups in Paradise. One of them being “Wilt’s”. Wilt is someone who is referenced here and there due to its influence towards both Square’s situation and Blixter’s safety. Meanwhile, Tri mee (Try This) is Blixter’s body guard as well, he protects Blixter in the shadows- taking down threats and keeping an eye on Blixter when’s he’s out.  

(There was supposed to be a scene where someone tries to stab from behind while he was out late at night but the armed man was taken to a nearby alleyway by Tri Mee who then chokes him to death. Basically the first on scene death)

Speaking of, Act 1 was just Blixter familiarizing with his surroundings. Cuda’s his professor! Lycan becomes Blixter’s best friend and even acts like a little brother that he never had (being a single child plus Lycan referencing having family problems. Lycan’s parents are divorced and his brother lives with his dad while Lycan lives with his mom) So Lycan copes through that with Blixter filling that empty role. Meanwhile, Blixter befriends the Player Sibs such as Triangle (Lycan’s boyfriend), Pentagon, and Circle. Circle does act like a little sister to him as well since Circle seemed distant with her family- especially with Square.

Speaking of, this does kickstart Blixter familiarizing himself with Square and eventually the two get to know eachother. There was suppsoed to be a scene where Blixter invites him over to hang out with him after Square refused the first offer since his siblings were present, more comfortable with Blixter only. 

This eventually leads to ACT 2 which switches the POV from Blixter to a new character, New Games; He’s nicknamed “Newt” for simplicity sake. Hah, like a lizard.

He’s a depressed old man who works at a dead end job and lives in a constant loop. His best friend, Captain, tries to cheer him up whenever the two meet up but knows that New Games is still miserable. back then, he lost his wife and missed the birth of his kid, he was detained at the time for a crime he didn’t commit. His past consisted of him being involved with gang members because a close childhood friend, Wilt, dragged him into their situation. Because of his ‘connection’ with a literal mobster, he was pinned as a suspect.

Captain got him out once he caught wind of this but when New Games found out his wife had died while giving birth, he was devastated. Even after all those years, he still can’t let the past go. It didn’t take long when he received an anonymous letter saying that his kid is still alive. Desperate to cling onto what remains of his loved one, he was filled with determination to find his kid.

With the help of Captain and Helinia-- a friend of Captain as well-- he got a ticket to a one-way trip to Paradise. It’s later revealed the one who sent him the letter was none other than Wilt. They wanted to see him again after all those years and to apologize for the time when New Games was detained for a crime THEY committed, not him.

ACT 3 is... well, to say, just chaos. Here’s some jokes that were funny from the script;

I wish I could squeeze in more to this answer but, well, ask box is always open for the Crisis AU cast and even me (if you’re being specific)

#Ask #ZCArt #jsab crisis #just shapes and beats #CrisisSpeaks

[sege-h]

Thoughts on the State of Play reveal

Under a readmore just in case

1- I know I said I'd keep the Son*dow tag blocked for a bit after Prime ended but I think I'll keep it blocked till the end of the year now lmao

2- I know the rumor has been going around since yesterday but I took it with a grain of salt since it's. Yknow. A rumor. But even when I let myself think 'what if its real tho' this is SO FAR FROM WHAT I EXPECTED. A!!! I thought at most we'd get is a remaster that'd also make Shadow playable! As soon as I saw the new level I was like WAIT WHAT. WAIT WHAT!!?!? and it just kept going from there!!!

I'm so happy we'll be getting a HD biolizard fight! He'll no longer be contained to the 3DS! Also from what little we saw Shadow will get to have some dynamic posing in the boss fights, like Super Sonic did in Frontiers. Good! I loved those!

3- Ian Flynn has #KnowingSmile'd the announcement and I'm hoping this means he got to write for whatever new content there is.

And speaking of Frontiers! I'm hoping that this ends up being Shadow's 'Frontiers' moment. In that his writing and character get what Amy's, Tails', and Knuckles' did in Frontiers.

4-I had the stream off to the side in another tab since I wasn't interested in most of what was shown. And then I heard the first few notes of the Generations music and i immediately switched tabs and I just!!! Feel like I did in 2011 except my computer/internet is way better, and you tube is shittier!

5- I'm excited for this for such Me reasons. For those new here- I live in a country that had no Sonic stuff for...well, never, really. Not until about 2022. The second movie did what I'd hoped the first movie would do (but then the pandemic happened) and brought over Sonic stuff here. For the first time in my life I went to a toy store here and it had Sonic stuff. I got to buy physical Sonic comics for the first time. For the first time in my life I can go to a video game store and actually see Sonic games there. It's been wild

That being said, 2011 had Nothing. Sonic Generations came out. And I didn't want to pirate it because a friend of mine had worked on it. I was determined to find it. And I only saw it irl one time- for the Playstation. A console I've never had. It was pretty upsetting! I remember posting about it here even....I've been on tumblr too long SHDGSHDHS

Later I'd find that there was a 3DS version. I have that! So I looked for that version of it alongside the PC one

So, for almost a decade, I looked, to no avail. And for this whole time I refused to look at any playthroughs! Any knowledge I had on whats in the game came from the trailers we saw

And then in 2019 my best friend helped me buy the 3DS version. I had 9 dollars on my 3DS and whenever the game went on sale it'd be on for 10 dollars. So he gave me a dollar and helped me get it SHDGSHDH

So I finally experienced Generations! It was surprise after surprise in that one, because I knew it was different but I didn't know how. I didn't expect a Rush level in it, or for the Biolizard to be in there!

And then in late 2020 when I got my new computer and could finally get steam, another close friend got me Generations for the PC! I'd somehow managed to dodge spoilers on it all those years so all I knew about it was: Theres Green Hill, Chemical Plant, City Escape, and a Silver boss fight.

I got to play modern City Escape for myself- which is the level that inspired the current iteration of my main OC, Storm. It was a joy

All this rambling to say...it's wild to think that once this remaster comes out, I'll be able to get it day 1, at least I hope I will. Still-it won't take me almost a decade to get to it

And if there's a physical release? I'll be able to go to a store here- HERE, not in one of our neighboring countries, not from somewhere else, but in a store here. Right across the street. And I'll finally have a physical copy of Generations. That was my final goal with the game-- I love it, I have two versions of it! And the plan was always that even though I'd gotten to play them now, if I ever ran into a physical copy of the game, I'd buy it. And now I'll really get to do it

6- Bonus thought of me being silly: Wowow my OC was shown at the State of Play--

#Personal #Sonic spoilers #Generations #Sege rambles

[moljh]

Unbelievable / Steve Harrington x Reader

Part 1

Summary - Y/N Hargrove, the twin sister of Billy Hargrove. People liked to make their assumptions, whisper and point as you went past, but they didn’t know what happened behind closed doors. The slamming doors, raised voices and poorly hidden bruises. Hawkins was meant to be different, somehow a new start from your old life left behind in California. That’s when the headaches started, the nightmares that felt so real, the unexplainable events and blackouts.

*trigger warning - mentions of abuse*

fluff, slowburn, flashbacks, etc.

Edited: currently unedited

Friday, June 28 1985

It was a usual sweltering night in Hawkins and unfortunately for you, Keith has passed off the worst weekend shift to you. The night shift wasn't usually terrible, but there were about a million other things you would rather be doing on a Friday night in summer. Cradling the stack of VHS tapes you made your way around the store, restocking shelves. It used to be that the Family Video was always busy at the end of the week and on weekends, but now because of Starcourt Mall the likelihood of people has become less and less.

Glancing out into the parking lot out front, the lack of vehicles aside from your own was comical. The arcade next door had already shut for the night and although you were meant to stay for another few hours, you decided you may as well close and head home. Catching a look at yourself in the reflection of the glass you sighed and brought your fingers up to your cheek. The air conditioning was working hard in this summer heat but clearly not hard enough as the concealer you had applied to you face had come off revealing the blueish-yellow bruise beneath. You made a mental note to apply more powder tomorrow to try and ensure your makeup wouldn't come off with sweat.

Suddenly the lights within the shop began to flicker and without warning you were plunged into darkness. For a moment everything was silent. Not even the street lights were on and you tried to find your way back to the front desk. Then as if nothing had happened the shop with flooded with light and you could see again.

Finishing up your final job for the night, you declared the store close with a switch of the sign and locked the door up. Your car wasn't anything fancy, you had worked over the past few summers during high school to afford it and had gotten it just before you had moved to Hawkins.

Pulling up out the front of your house, you parked behind your brothers Camaro, making sure to leave plenty of room to avoid a repeat of this morning where you were berated for getting your shit excuse of a car too close to his. Getting out you walked up the front path and were relieved to note the lack of your fathers car in the drive way, likely meaning he and Susan were out. Unlocking the front door you were hit with the abrasive odour of your brothers cologne, which he practically bathed in. Making your way to your bedroom you stamped out the lit cigarette still sitting in the ash tray on the coffee table.

The door adjacent to yours slammed open and your brother emerged clearly about to go out for the night. You both had the same blue eyes and dirty blond hair, it was obvious you were related but people were often surprised to find out you were twins.

"You're home early" Billy said with his usual lack of interest "Yeah, I closed up early..." you replied walking past him and heading into your bedroom "Which bored housewife are you meeting up with tonight? Used the different swimming strokes line on them yet?"

He let out a small chuckle at your question, knowing full well you knew all about his conquests. The two of you had a strange relationship. You were one of the few people he ever showed any minor bit of affection towards but he would never admit he cared about you. Before your mother left you had been inseparable, but over the years the two of you had become distant. He cared for you in a strange controlling way, not the normal brotherly love, one more hostile and resentful.

"You're one to talk" he scoffed, "still meeting up with that trailer trash drug dealer? What about Tommy H or what's his name from the stupid high school basketball team?"

Flipping him off you continued into your room and flopped down on your bed. You were grateful that Billy had clearly given up on the bickering between you two and had proceeded to make his way out. You could hear the rev of his car engine from the street as he pulled away and slowly faded out into nothing.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep, but suddenly you found yourself jerking awake at the sound of the front door slamming. Sitting up you realised you were still in your clothes from work and ugly green vest. The voices of your step mother and father echoed within the house and you flinched at the footsteps edging closer and closer to your room. Quickly shuffling over to your door, you tried to shut it but a foot stuck between it preventing you.

Taking a step back, your father slowly moved in front of you. You could smell the bourdon wafting off of him and already knew what awaited you.

"Where's your brother?" he questioned you glancing around your room "Out" was all you replied, trying your best to keep your answer simple as to try and not set him off

You hadn't even been given a chance to prepare yourself when suddenly you felt the sting of the back of your fathers hand strike you across the face. Your eyes watered from the impact and you winced from the impact hitting your already tender cheek.

"Don't speak like that to me" was all he said before slamming you against the wall behind you.

You felt your head hitting the solid plaster and your ears rang out. You could feel his hot breath against your left ear as he came close and whispered something that you didn't quite make out. This clearly angered him even more and raised his hand once more, taking grip of a clump of your hair and slamming your head back into the wall.

"Pathetic" he spat at you "just like your mother"

Letting go of you, he pushed you down onto the cold, bare floorboards and walked away. Slumped over on the floor, you felt a warmth on your scalp trickle down and touch your neck. Bringing up your hand you hissed as you touched it and pulled away to see the deep crimson liquid adorning your fingertips. Pulling yourself up, you made your way to the bathroom that you shared with your brother.

Slipping off your clothes, you looked in the mirror above the sink. Markings and bruises littered your body and you could already see the fresh bruise beginning to form on your jaw from your fathers hit.

His rage never had any logic or reasoning behind it. You guessed a part of it stemmed from your likeness to your mother who he made sure to voice his resentment towards. From little memories you had of her, you could make out the similarities between yourself and her.

Climbing into the shower, you let the hot water cascade down your body. Slowly the water at your feet took on a light pink tone and then faded back to clear once your head had stopped bleeding. This was your usual nightly routine. You often tried your best to avoid being home much at all, let alone at night and by yourself but every now and then it couldn't be avoided. On the few nights you did spend in your own bed, it was often preceded by your fathers rage and a hot shower to clean yourself up from his actions.

The following day hadn't been anything special. You had spent most of the day idly perusing the store of Starcourt with a couple of other girls you at attended Hawkins High with. Most of them occupied conversation with news about the colleges they were attending and trying to pry about Billy. The crowds in the mall had died down as it began to get later in the evening but you decided to stay behind without the gaggle of girls and see whatever movie was playing. Paying for your ticket you made your way inside the cinema and took your seat. You honestly hadn't taken note of what movie was playing, just trying to buy yourself some more time before having to head back home.

Your mind wandered as the movie played and your realised it was the Day of the Dead movie that Max had said she was seeing the day prior. Within the darkness of the theatre you found yourself finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open and soon enough you fell asleep.

Slowly coming to, you jolted awake as your eyes registered your surroundings. You couldn't make out where you were but your could hear a deep growl echoing around you. Suddenly something flew out from the darkness towards you and attached to your face. Desperately scrambling and tearing at the foreign thing, you tried to scream out but you could feel whatever it was blocking you throat. You felt your eyes rolling into the back of you head at you tried to take in air but it was preventing you from breathing. Trying to rip at it, you had no grip against the slime ridden surface.

You felt overcome with a sense of dread and helplessness. A bright light flashed in front of your eyes, a mixture of searing red and shadows clouded your vision. You could hear something screeching out, as if calling to you and the deep sombre tones of another being flooded towards you. You could almost make out a figure amongst it all, above you a dark cloud edging closer, reaching out to touch you. Lifting your hand you tried to get closer, the darkness inched towards you enticing you, calling you in. You were so close, could almost reach it.

Then it was gone.

You were back in the theatre, brightness from the screen before you assaulted you eyes and you frantically looked around to see what had happened. Everything was still in its place, people gave you strange looks as you scrambled from your seat and rushed towards the door. Gasping for air you flung open the door and made your way out into the corridor.

It had all felt so real. Grasping your throat, you could still feel the slimy grip it held as it touched your face. But there was nothing. You must have imagined it all... But you couldn't stop thinking how it all felt so real.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #fanfiction #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #steve harrington x y/n #y/n #max mayfield #eddie munson x reader #stranger things series

[davidmariottecomics]

A Matter of Time

Surf's up, gang! 

Aloha from the beach! Okay, not really. I'm at home at time of writing, but I've made 2 whole trips out to the ocean this week, so I'm feeling beachy! Which, if you live near the water, is a pretty good way to feel in the summertime! 

In enjoying the season, I started thinking about the complex production timelines of comics, the ways in which some comics feel timely when they were created well ahead of the events they seem related to, and a book I read recently that had one time element that really didn't work for me. So let's take some time to talk about time! 

Story of Seasons 

Where I live in the U.S., summer means a certain thing. At this time of year, we're largely through the June Gloom and into hot, sunny days. The sun rises before I'm usually up, and I wake up early, and sets around 8 p.m. Most nights, in at least some parts of town, there are fireworks. Folks are having barbecues at home and along the beach--which people are flocking too. The college-aged kids only roll up after they've got up, and since they don't have school, you can usually not expect to see them before noon. And while the coastline's popping, closer to us, things are quieter exactly because school's out and the college campus has largely cleared out. And, specific to where we live, it means the trolleys and buses and some buildings and street signs, have assumed their summer wrap, promoting Peacock and Futurama's return and whatever else companies spent boodles of money on to promote ahead of and during San Diego Comic-Con. 

That's what the exterior of my life is like right now. Sweet, hot, summertime fun outdoors--though I spend most of my time in with the cats. And there's still a little bit of that in my work. I'm planning meeting up with folks at San Diego Comic-Con and, while I'm not particularly involved, I'm watching Riley Farmer get the Sonic the Hedgehog: Endless Summer one-shot buttoned up for next month. But most of what I'm working on is already well ahead, working actively on releases across the fall, and switching from planning to the first steps of production on our winter releases with spring 2024 already cresting the horizon. 

It's a funky dichotomy. If you go into a comic shop in the next two months, summer programs will be in full swing, from DC's big summer crossover event, Knight Terrors to IDW's Endless Summer, to Ultimate Invasion and the Hellfire Gala stuff Marvel's got going on, as well as Skybound's kicking off their Energon Universe, and whatever stores have left of the projects kicked off for Pride. 

But because you're seeing those things in stores, it means they're done and as I've talked about a bit before, generally comics have to be done a ways before their release. In an ideal situation, a comic is done between 7 and 10 weeks before the on-sale date. In a less ideal situation, a comic needs to be done at least 3 weeks before the on-sale date for most printers/distributors/final-order-cutoff reasons. But, in the former case, it means this next week, I'd be looking at what needs to go out right around mid-September--the first week of fall. And those are the things that'd be finishing. Let's say you'd need at least 10 weeks before that for finalizing the script; drawing, coloring, lettering, and doing any production on the issue; and getting it approved by all the relevant stakeholders. So the things entering that phase in the next week wouldn't actually see stores until the last week of November. 

In the books world, there are three spans, rather than the four seasons. Those are Spring (Feb-May), Summer (Jun-Aug), and Fall (Sept-Jan). And when you're working purely with single-issue comics, when you're in one span, you're generally working on titles for the next. When it comes to collections and OGNs, you can be working on stuff years ahead of time. (As an aside to all this, it's also super interesting that this is how things are sorted because it really speaks to publishing in the northern hemisphere... sorry to anyone in the southern hemisphere who is looking at IDW's Endless Summer and thinking "but it's winter!") 

I bring all this up as a reminder that comics take a long time to make and when there are comics have a particularly timely element, like a summer event, they're the result of months of work and planning to hit that specific date that falls in that seasonal span. And while tons of planning can go into something like a 5th week event (in months with 5 Wednesdays, some publishers will add extra titles on the 5th week so they have releases for that Wednesday without disrupting the regular monthly schedule of their titles), it also means sometimes something happens that seems very intentional, but is purely coincidental! 

Unintended Timeliness

Wendy Xu has a new book coming out next month, The Infinity Particle. Like all of her books, it looks very good. Straight from the copy, it "explores big questions through the eyes of an aspiring inventor and the lifelike AI she finds herself falling for." And in the build-up to release, advance reader copies have gone out to booksellers, librarians, and reviewers--the folks who should see the book early because it will help the book get more traction in stores, libraries, and more visibility with readers. But because of developments over the past year, it also is now very closely tied to a hot button issue: AI. Through the circumstances of the world around The Infinity Particle's release, early reviews and examination of it are inherently looping it into the larger conversation. Wendy's gone on the record about, as she said, "'AI' (derogatory)" and "AI-in-fiction (complimentary)."  But one of the things she's also been very clear about is that she's been working on this book since 2018 when we weren't talking about AI in the same way. 

I bring this all up because, when taken with my previous point about how long it often takes comics to be made, a lot of the timeliness that you may seen in a work can be coincidental. As another example, I've been asked a few times about whether the Metal Virus arc in IDW's Sonic the Hedgehog was in any way inspired by the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic. That arc is, in many ways, about a global pandemic. That arc, also, was pitched over a dinner at WonderCon 2018, where only the very first issue was on sale a week early and the series had not yet launched widely. The majority of it was written and in production before March 2020 when the U.S. really shut down in the early days of their response. So, no, the timelines don't really work out, it was just happenstance. 

And as a writer/artist/editor/etc, that's one of the things you have to keep in mind. I came from journalism, where timeliness was often an important part of storytelling. "New" is 3/4ths of "News." But outside of strips and editorial/political cartoons, it is much harder to incorporate true timeliness to your comics work. So, often, the default is to look for timelessness--something that isn't pegged to a specific event or set of circumstances, but that can be appreciated whenever because it speaks to something larger. Timelessness doesn't need to be forward-looking necessarily. It can be reacting to or interpreting long-standing history. But the benefit of trying to tell a story that always feels relevant, even if the cultural context around it may change the reader's interpretation from your intention (and there's a longer conversation to be had about interpretation vs. intention), is it usually doesn't feel immediately aged. 

The flip side of things having an unexpected timeliness is when you try to execute something to be timely, but in the interim of writing to execution or just through the flow of time, it just isn't anymore. Somewhat recently, Becca rediscovered "Boyfriend" by Big Time Rush. Obviously, this song is like 13 years old anyway, but boy howdy does the song feel it's age when they call out 2008 Best Picture winner, Slumdog Millionaire. It's not to say you can't or shouldn't put things in the context of the time they're written in, just that being considerate of it is probably to your benefit because specific cultural and contextual touchpoints should feel additive to the work and the intention, not haphazard as a way of showing modernity. (Two quick asides to this: 1. If you don't like "Boyfriend" by BTR musically, you do need to watch the video because it is wild. However, maybe "Boyfriend" by Dove Cameron will be more to your tastes and is incredibly funny if you listen to it as a response to the BTR song. 2. Cultural references aren't the only things that can feel dated or be misused and make your comic worse--see every time AAVE is misused in comics and the creators are immediately dunked on.)

A Timeless Romance... And Leia Organa

Last bit for today, building off what we were just talking about. I recently read Neon Gods by Katee Roberts. It's a smutty retelling of Hades/Persephone set in modern times. (I'm still figuring out some upcoming blogs, but certainly the aforementioned AI and also why SO MANY WORKS are gravitating to Hades/Persephone are on the shortlist). Overall, I liked it. Like many first books in a series, I hear it picks up in later volumes. There's a lot to say about it, but one thing that really stuck out to me was while I understand that it is set in modern day, anytime it made a specific modern reference, it really threw me off. 

Throughout the book, people make calls on their smart phones and have video conferences and there are guns and cars and skyscrapers and other hallmarks of modernity. And it is totally fine. It sets the scene and makes sense for the story being told. But every once in a while--I remember it happening 3 or 4 times--something specific gets called out and it feels weird. One of those times being a reference to the gold bikini Leia wears in Return of the Jedi. It's the sort of touchstone that should feel innocuous. Most folks know it, even if they don't super know Star Wars. But when it happens as like a singular pop culture reference in a work (the other specific callouts I remember feeling odd were a reference to UC Berkley and a brand-name medicine), it weirdly works against the modernity because it feels too concrete in a world of otherwise abstract modern life. It is so solid, so recognizable, that it almost begs the question of why there aren't more references throughout and it vaguely asks questions of the world and of the characters that aren't actually consequential to the plot--or, perhaps, that are consequential to a larger overarching plot that isn't really investigated in depth in the first book. Either way, it was just a little moment that in my reading created a bump that I'm remembering a week and a half later better than some of the actual plot elements or hot smutty scenes, which probably is not the intent of that otherwise kinda throwaway line. 

FRIENDS! 

Okay, shifting away from all that for a moment, I wanna talk about my many cool friends! Who have a new page on my website! Inspired by the webrings of old, I wanted to do a little something to help folks who find their way over to my site find their way over to the sites of other cool folks who are making comics! Right now, you'll notice a lot of family and people who work on Sonic in addition to a few other friends, but always happy to add folks that I've worked with or know and like who might want a bit more web traffic flowing their way. 

While we're on the topic, I know a number of former IDW folks are still looking for work. You'll find links to their LinkedIns there and if you have any opportunities that might be a good fit, please reach out! Also specific shout-out to Yu & Me Books, who could use some help at the moment. 

Patreon!

I'm now on Patreon sharing, wouldja believe, this very blog! As well as some other cool stuff that I've got planned! If you've been enjoying the blog for a while and want a new way to read or support it with a small tip, the Patreon might be for you. I'm also going to be doing Patreon-exclusive blogs that show off stuff like scripts and pitching materials that I can share, WIPs of some of my personal projects, some weird video/audio/streaming content at certain levels, and have a somewhat ambitious group funding goal where subscribers to my top tier mostly help me fund making more short comics by being able to pay cool artists I know! 

Do you not want to read this pitch for my Patreon? Good news: If you subscribe to it, this is cut out from the blog! Ooo aah! 

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Craig of the Creek (Cartoon), Dungeons & Daddies (Podcast), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video game), My Adventures with Superman (Cartoon), the beach, Girly Drinks by Mallory O'Meara (Book), the aforementioned Neon Gods (okay, that was last week, but y'know), Stab that Cake (TV show), the only real social media, Clapback, Cruel Summer (TV show), Crime Scene Kitchen (TV show), "Shy Boy" by Carly Rae Jepsen (my queen), the music video for "Water Slide" by Janelle Monae (really loving the aesthetics of their new stuff), Starship Troopers (Movie), thinking about The Love Witch (due for a rewatch). 

New Releases this week (7/5/2023): Sonic the Hedgehog #62 (Editor) Brynmore #1 (Editor) - Actually came out in my last gap week, but go grab it! 

New Releases next week (7/12/2023): Off week for me! Buy something else groovy!

Final Order Cut-Off next week (7/10/2023 - AKA Preorder Deadline) Brynmore #2 (Editor) Godzilla: War for Humanity #1 (Editor)

Announcements:

I'll be at San Diego Comic-Con! My schedule's gotten pretty full, but if you're going to be there, do reach out and let me know. I'll at least try to say hi! IDW announced our panels for the year and I'll see you at Sonic the Hedgehog: Speeding to the 900th Adventure on Sunday at 10, room 25ABC! 

Side note, because con is coming, I may or may not have an update the week of SDCC itself! And Becca's Twitch streams will be off that week, but they'll be streaming throughout the rest of the month. Just anticipate Tuesday streams, rather than Wednesdays, because of some scheduling conflicts. Just through July. 

Oh! And a reminder I am on Bluesky, but don't expect to see me on Threads! That service seems lousy! 

Pic of the Week:

Becca and I at the beach! Beach stuff including some cool shells and part of a crustacean's shell! 

#comics #sonic idw #neon gods #summertime #comics scheduling #infinity particle #metal virus saga #comics behind the scenes #patreon

[thestraystarproject]

status report production wise...

so, about the latest update. you may have noticed i've been able to put out two updates in a single week, which is insane considering the short amount of time i've got to work on these, but a big help has been my recent decision to switch to a much quicker and more consistent method of updates.

you see, the stray star went through a few revisions on what type of media its updates would mainly consist of. first it was going to be mostly fully animated video game cutscene-esque videos with original music and sound effects. then, it was scaled down to special occasions for videos, but fully colored and self contained comic issues for each update.

finally, we have reached the current compromise, which is a few exceptions made to make fully animated videos when it might seem cool to do so, as well as some other types of media once in a while, but mostly sprite comics.

there are a few reasons for this, the first being as you can see being that it gets the job done much quicker. i can simply draw up a static background, get a few character sprites done for each fitting pose and expression, and set that bad boy rolling with the dialogue necessary.

the stray star is a big, BIG story, and i know it may not look it at the moment, but if i'm going to tell this whole story before i, oh, i don't know, end up doing this for like four years, i need to cut down on how much time it costs me to get these going. i want to at LEAST have arc 1 finished by the start of next year, and that's already a big ask.

but with this format of updates, things get significantly easier. therefore, you may see comics popping up significantly less. as for animated videos, there are some in store, but again, they will only show up when fitting.

that being said, one of such situations is the next video! i have the music ready for it and i'd hate to see that funky little baby go to waste. it's quite different from the demo i put up here a few weeks ago, so i wonder if people will get pleasantly surprised from hearing the newer version :3 i sure hope so!

so that's going to take a little longer. drawing all the sprites, looping animations, effects, arranging the video, all of that requires a lot of time to get going, so i'll do my best to work on that and get it to you as early as possible! we will see how long this takes...

there is one more thing before i wrap up this update. i think if you frequent the site enough you may or may not have noticed tumblr is kind of. uh. going through a rough patch. i'm currently hatching a plan to, if possible, move the stray star to its own neocities domain, however i have never made such a website before, and i'm famously bad at coding (believe me, if i could make tss a video game, i would, but i really and truly suck shit at this, plus it would require a lot more asset building than i already am doing). i have heard there are some ways to set up domains easily via using handy assets to set up a premade code n then customize, so i'll try that this weekend... and we shall see.

all this to say, as i work on the next update which will take longer because of its complexity, expect me to also try and set up a website for tss. i probably won't shut down this blog and will keep updating on it and will keep it up as an archive even if i decide to stop using tumblr, but if i can help it, i'll try to move most of tss there and spruce it up as a definitive gateway for the project.

well, that's it, see you all next update! (or status report... we will see)

#tss post

[kaikama]

Today is a confusing day for my gender. I want to (genuinely) thank some people on Tumblr for that, but I don't know how. I know many people consider their blogs as being a sort of public diary, but I've never used mine like that before. I reblog art and memes, and sometimes ramble in the tags, but almost never make posts of my own, and certainly don't talk about anything important when I do.

However sometimes the best way to get ahold of something slippery that's swimming around in your head is to first get it out of your head. I may not even post this, though contrary to how I present myself on this blog, I do very much love talking about myself (especially when I can indulge my inner 12yo-fanfic-author and be a bit dramatic and poetic about it) so we'll see.

However, to the anxiety of making a long, eventually emotional post I will cede the small victory of a readmore:

I guess the place to begin is with the lovely @dduane. In particular with the recent post she reblogged talking about @redgoldsparks's book Gender Queer. I was reading through the comic therein when I remembered that I actually had the book e was talking about sitting on my "to-read" shelf... okay, one of my "to-read" shelves. No avid reader with disposable income should be surprised I have so many such books, nor that any book could get lost in such a pile, no matter how... personally relevant it is.

I picked it up one day, not at my usual book store, but actually at a local comic book/board game store. It caught my eye of course by presenting the words "GENDER QUEER" in big, bold letters, and and further enticed me when I flipped through it briefly and saw it didn't censor itself unnecessarily. In a graphic novel that's largely about gender, it was relieving, for example, to see bodies being addressed without fear that showing them was too obscene.

So I bought it but, as I mentioned, it sat on my shelf for at least months, probably a year or more, if the time dilation typical of the pandemic period can be assumed.

Then today, after seeing that post, I decided to finally take it out. It only took a short while to read, maybe an hour or so. Unless you include the time it will spend lingering in my mind, in which case I may never finish reading it.

I related to it in many ways. In ways that were the same, but upsidedown – since I was amab, but could still feel a connection to the ideas within. Technically a different wavelength, but... a harmonic of the original. But one point in particular is the whole reason for this post. Page 189.

If you don't have the book, well firstly I highly recommend you go get it now and simply read through it to see the page in question. But in case you can't, I'll describe it here:

In panel 1, the author laments about wanting to switch pronouns, but that "they/them" doesn't feel quite right. In panel 2, e asks eir conversational partner what e uses. In panel 3, as you have probably guessed, e tells the author that e uses "e/em/eir" and, important to my story, uses them in a sentence: "Ask em what e wants in eir tea." In panel 4, e reacts with a huge smile and starry eyes.

Here is where I'll pause and mention that reading that passage gave me a shiver down my spine. I love seeing people explore their identities – or in this case, eir identity – and that especially goes for things I could never wrap my head around, such as neopronouns. As much as I respect them, I never could understand. To me, gender has usually been a nuisance. Something that I have to perform. If I don't, people will assume some performance anyways, one which is usually wrong. I wish I could just work backstage. Or maybe it's more like I wish everyone had a program guide, so instead of having to constantly tell people I'm not a man, they can just see the description in the guide for themselves. I'm just so tired of it. So tired.

But! That's why I get shivers like this, since it warms my heart to see people like me, also pushing through. E shouldn't have to struggle to be known. E does. But that strength inspires my own, which I hope inspires others, in a cycle of propping eachother up!

Then in panel 5 e says "I love those pronouns! I just got the biggest tingle down my spine."

And I recall my spine tingle.

And I'm really confused.

Do I want those pronouns? I've been using "they/them" for a while now, and I've known about (and had friends who use) "e/em/eir" for some time now. Surely I would've realized they fit me sooner than this, right?

Then again, I think, I have been kinda growing dissatisfied with "they/them" for a bit now. But I always just felt tired of gender as a whole. I don't want pronouns that even fewer people will understand, I said. At least with "they/them" I can point at the neutral usage everyone uses them for. Anything more obscure would just be all the more effort. All the more tiring.

...but does that make it untrue? Or simply unfair? Everything to do with being queer is unfair, sorta' by definition. If I wanted it to be easy, I could stick to "he/him", but that would only really be "easy" for other people, I realized. Neither "he/him" nor "they/them" are easy for me. Neither "male" nor "female" nor "non-binary" are easy for me. Neither the old gender binary nor the new gender trinary are easy for me. I'm just so tired.

I wish I had an answer to finish with. Not for your sake, but for mine. I have a sort of modus operandi I like to use: "prepare for the worst, but hope for the best, and expect something in-between." It's a bit of a compromise between the phrase"high hopes, low expectations" and my optimism. Well, I forgot to do that here. I had hoped that I would've found my answer by the end of this post, but I forgot to "prepare for the worst," and as such had no middle ground to set my expectations.

Maybe the answer is to stop caring so much? But that seems like it would be a disservice to myself and my wants and needs. Also it seems impossible. Or at least like clinical depression, which shouldn't be anyone's goal.

Maybe I should try using different pronouns? None of my friend would care. But they would make mistakes. It's extremely rare for one of my friends to slip up now, but it does still happen. And using something new would give me those small rock-in-the-shoe, scratchy-shirt-tag irritations that @redgoldsparks mentioned in eir book all over again.

...or maybe "they/them" is dorta' doing that now, and I've just gotten used to it? I remember when I switched I hadn't realized that "he/him" wasn't great until then. Not because I felt bad hearing it, but because I suddenly felt good hearing "they/them." I still think I don't feel especially disphoric over "he/him," but now that I know the euphoria I could have, it feels worse in comparison. Maybe the same would happen if I switched again?

My how many thoughts I have about this. I want an answer. There is no simple answer. Life is work. I love life. I hate work. I'm so tired. But it's worth it.

I think that's most of my metaphorical brain-fish on the topic disgorged for now. If you listened, thanks for listening. If you're confused, imagine how I feel. And if you think you felt like you resonate at some harmonic of this, please go read @redgoldsparks's book Gender Queer. It probably won't have clear answers, and the feelings it evokes probably won't be exclusively positive ones, but if you've read this far into my ramblings, then I can promise you it will be a valuable read.

Thanks for your time! -Kai

#yes I realized I signed off on this like it was a letter or email when tumblr posts are anything but #however when I rant for long enough I feel like it turns into something more formal in my gut which makes me what to do so lol #but ya I had a lot of feelings. and feelings are hard. and tiring. but important #so please do with this what you will #and if by some chance the author or dduane read this – thanks so much to both of you for all you've done for me! #I barely mentioned dduane in this post for lack of immediate relevancy but she's been such a force in my development! #the yw series did wonders for my current fierce optimism and love for life #but the most recent tornado in my brain is reading Gender Queer today so that got the spotlight here #anyways I usually follow my tag rants with tracking tags but I'm not so sure what to put when it isn't fanart #I guess #gender queer #maia kobabe #books #gender #genderqueer #my ramblings #my posts #my feelings #diary entry

[keefwho]

April 18 - 2024 Thursday

11:05pm

5.5/10

Overnight I woke up about 5 times, my pulled shoulder hurt a ton no matter what position I was in. I had some common melancholic dreams. This morning I woke up with the intention of staying in bed. But I knew that wouldn't help and I wasn't feeling THAT bad anymore, I had gotten it out of my system the night before. I skipped cleaning this morning. I took a loooong shower. For breakfast I made a jimmy dean sandwich and rice like yesterday. I didn't want to eat but I knew I had to and it's pretty easy to make.

I started work mostly on time. I warmed with deer sketches. Then I cranked out 2 hours of work on the Venus comic without distraction because mom was gonna take me to the store right after. I talked about wanting to cut down on swearing and was essentially told that was stupid which I stood my ground on because it is OPINION. I'd like to come off less as confrontational.

Mom took me to the store and told me about getting in contact with her long lost sister. At the store I got drinks and a huge bag of uncooked chicken strips and nuggets. The cashier my age asked if I had enough chicken and I told her I eat this every single night. I wasn't sure what more conversation to make, I want to think of something for next time. Something to actually talk about.

When I got back, I spent my lunch playing VRchat in the probability labs game. I joined a furry group instance that was annoying, then joined a much better one. Someone there caught my attention, this 25 year old babysitter who was actually speaking normally so I made conversation with her and her 2 friends, they were all nice. Before leaving I got the go ahead to friend request. For lunch I had made tuna spaghetti and a fruit cup.

I did my afternoon work in VC with TK, her boyfriend, and NJ. Pretty casual time, I got my work done after a little bit. Then I moved onto working on my Mr Bean world. TK was fascinated watching me work in Blender. Also she's only seen the 2nd Mr Bean so I insisted we have a movie night to watch the first. They had to leave about when I was done working.

I asked DS to play horse game tonight. I grinded a little while I waited. When she joined we did some horse catching and got to the next island. She also showed me some really funny clips of horse dressage. In bed we cleared puzzles, read 4 whole chapters of Monster High that were really good, and finished the Little Mermaid world in KH2. I started Agrabah and had a lot of trouble activating a really simple switch puzzle because I had to do it from a certain angle.

#journal #diary

[derrick-riches]

Lightbulb

The 400-watt metal halide arc tube lights were, for unfathomable reasons, stored in a cabinet in the projection room of the art museum’s auditorium. It was a quiet, snowy day in December, just after finals week, and the Miller Gallery was as dim as the sky outside. I walked out the museum doors into the lobby. Bounded down the concrete and brick steps, past a young couple suffering from an inability to keep their hand off each other. Across the auditorium lobby, past the glass display cases of Navajo (Diné) blankets. Then through the northernmost of the ten doors and into the dimly lit theatre. Up the slight incline towards the back of the room, down the oddly shaped eight-foot hall, to the projection room door.

            A single, tiny halogen bulb glowed above the door, providing enough light to see the doorknob but not the keyhole. I fumbled with the lock for a moment, pulled open the door, and groped for the light switch. Despite not being labeled, it only took me a minute to find the correct light bulb from the metal cabinet on the opposite wall. Lock the cabinet. Turn. Thump. Freeze. Think. The auditorium was empty. Right? Slowly, I approached the door. It’s two inches thick. Solid oak. My ear against the door found only a slight ruffling.

            The Museum of Fine Arts Auditorium is occasionally used by the University President’s Club. A group of wealthy donors, emeritus professors, and the politically connected. Put on by a team of volunteers, the projectionist for most of these events was Ms. Carol, the retired stagecraft instructor and a woman with a dramatic flair for fashion. One night, a few years earlier, she had locked up the projection equipment after a poorly attended event to look out the window and find a completely empty room. Something took hold of her. Convinced that someone was waiting on the other side of the door, she became frozen with fear. She was found the next morning dehydrated and confused.

            A solution had to be found, insisted the President’s Club. A phone would have worked. A peephole drilled through the oak door would have worked. However, this was a serious situation. So, instead of the obvious, a small CTV camera was placed on the wall outside the booth, connected to a thirteen-inch monitor hung above the console. I reached over and turned on the monitor.

            It was grainy and dark. I turned on one of the projection console lights and turned off the main fluorescents. Yes. Two figures, silhouetted by the light that hits the wall at the opposite end of the hall.

            “I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, sitting down on the one chair in the room. Then again, I wouldn’t want the disturbance. I waited. Five minutes went by. Five minutes, and the best I could tell, they had managed to drop their heavy winter coats. “Get on with it,” I wanted to yell. Another five minutes passed and little had changed. The fuzzy couple on the monitor, which can only be seen from mid-torso up, are still making out. Then it hits me. Mood.

            I look over the console. Bring up the multi-color stage lights while dimming the main overhead cans. Adjust the stage color to a vibrant violet. Aim the primary spot to stage right and set to a deep red. Through the window, I watch, adjusting the luminosity to maintain a consistent foot candle. The monitor shows a slight color change. I notice the taller figure has its back against the wall. The other figure has disappeared.

            Art history professor Olpin kept cassettes of classical music to give his classes a little class. I thumb through them. Schubert? Too fluffy. Stravinsky? Too avant-garde. Haydn? Too comical. Ravel? Perfect! Boléro? If it’s good enough for Bo Derek, it’s good enough for these two. I punch the cassette into the deck. Forward about ten minutes. Volume to zero. Play. Bring up the volume slowly. One. Two. Three. Problem! I can’t really hear the music in the booth. The dial goes to 100, and I have to think. At what volume will it be subliminal and not obvious? Four. Five.

            The monitor hasn’t changed. I could crank the volume to 100 and scare the shit out of them. A few minutes go by while I consider it. Six. The smaller figure reappears. I turn the volume back to five. The kissing continues, but my hope of resolution is dashed when the smaller figure turns, back against the wall. The larger figure disappears. I mean, fair is fair, but still. I have work to do.

            Perhaps out of boredom, I begin modulating the colors on the main spot. I flip the stage lights to asynchronous rotation. This creates a delightful dancing motion on the stage floor and back wall. Toggle the spot to waver. The light begins a slow pulsing. I check the monitor. The one viewable figure seems to have some alien-like thing crawling about in its shirt. Volume to six. Seven. Eight. I don’t dare turn it any higher. I grab the headphones and put them on. I can hear the music. Its slow movement is building.

            Now, the monitor shows nothing. Did they leave? Was the music too loud? Back to seven. Nothing can be seen through the projection window. Of course, they could have slipped quickly out one of the side doors. I step over and press my ear against the door. Definitely still there.

            Back in the chair, I wait. I toy with the lights. Turn the volume back to eight. Then nine. I keep an eye on the monitor and wait for the culmination so I can grab the light bulb and get back to the task at hand. After a few minutes, a head appears. It’s just the top of a head. Probably the smaller of the two. The head bobbs or nods. Hard to tell which.

            Common on, I think, I have a twelve-foot ladder cluttering up a gallery upstairs. I turn the volume to 10. Then I turn to the lighting. I adjusted the cascading colors of the spot to match the rhythm of the bobbing. Then, the stage lights. They weave through a figure-eight motion that makes a beautiful but chaotic pattern. I switched to a simple circle and altered the rate to match the spot and the nodding.

            Once I have everything perfectly synchronized, I notice that the movements of the head are speeding up. I focus on it and, with one hand on the spot control and the other on the stage lights knob, began racing to keep up. Then, suddenly, the head stops moving and drops out of sight. Finally, I think. I kill the music, drop the spot and the stage lights, and bring up the house cans, returning the room to normal.

            There was a pile of clothes to don and backpacks to pick up. Eventually, the figures passed around the corner and out of sight of the monitor. I watch them walk across the auditorium and exit on the other side of the building. I grab the 400-watt metal halide arc bulb and return to the museum gallery.

#lightbulb #art museum #auditorium #pda #short story #tumblr milestone #stagelighting

[matthewwilliamcharles]

The History of Flat Tailed Rats, Bound to Bolt and Proper Punktuation

I can’t remember exactly when I met Liz and Amanda, but it was back in 2004 ish. I lived in Richmond, Virginia and I played in a band called I Live With Zombies.  I think the first show I officially met them at was at some comic book store in the west end of Richmond (I could be wrong). Their band played, and I’m fairly certain my band played as well, I can’t recall the fine details.  Anyways they had a band called Flat Tailed Rats.  It was Amanda (who went by Amanda Dred back then, I’m sure you can guess why), Liz on bass, Jack on drums and, I think Erica on vocals?  I thought they were awesome, reminiscent of The Dead Milkmen at times, but also very messy punk rock.  They were super awkward and young (I have about 6 years on them), and in their defense they thought I was awkward and unapproachable.  I didn’t talk to them much, but we did start playing shows together.  They threw shows at their house, which I believe was on East Lehigh Street.  I think I played a couple of those, and we would have them on shows that we setup, as it goes in your local punk rock scene.  Eventually Flat Tailed Rats broke up.  Soon after Liz and Amanda started another band called Bound To Bolt.  Instead of an electric guitar Amanda switched to acoustic and took lead vocals.  The songs were much better and the style was much more folk punk.  My good friend Lew, who also played in I Live With Zombies, played drums for them.  They recorded a couple things, most notably was their album, “Record Time” which my buddy Brian put out on his label, “Aunt Mary Records” https://amrndr.bandcamp.com/  They played a bunch of shows, I also believe they did a small tour, and were loved by many Richmond punkers.  I can’t remember when Bound To Bolt stopped being a band, but it was probably when Liz moved to Asheville, NC, maybe 2009?  That was when Liz and I started dating, more or less, and In 2011 Liz and I backpacked across Europe, came back to the states, got married and moved to Philadelphia, PA.  Somehow Amanda ended up there too, moving in with her parents in Lansdale, PA.  Liz and Amanda continued to write music together.  They talked about getting a drummer, which I was interested in, but I can’t really play a full kit, nor did I have one, but was willing to learn.  They tried to get our friend Max to play drums, another ex-Richmonder living in Philly, but it never worked out.  During that time Liz started taking trumpet lessons, and she got good enough to play some songs.  Liz and Amanda signed up for the “First Time's A Charm” event in Philly..  They played that, which was at Phila Moca, and that was the first Proper Punktuation show, Amanda singing and playing guitar and Liz on trumpet.  They had some nice songs worked out, but didn’t play another show after that.  At some point when Liz and I were living in our East Falls apartment I started playing percussion on the songs.  When I would play solo I would play with a one man band setup, kick drum, foot tambourine and shakers.  I started using that setup to add percussion to their songs, then it just made sense for me to pick up my guitar as well.  Liz had switched back to bass.  We played like that for a while, in our basement, but they never booked any shows.  I was scheduled to play folk n’punk, a private DIY festival in Sodus, New York.  My friend Eric and Danielle from Jayne Crash host the event on their property.  I had first met Eric at an event he held (The Guitar B-Q) earlier that year.  I told Liz and Amanda that they should come and that I think they’d have a really good time.  Two days of music, friends and camping!  They agreed to come, and I told them that they should be prepared to play, because the vibe that I got off Eric told me that once they showed up and I explained that I was in a band with them as well, he would offer up a slot.  My notion came to fruition, when I introduced Liz and Amanda and told him about Proper Punktuation he asked, “What do you all need to play?”  That was the first PP show, and the rest is history.  PP is, in my mind, a continuation of Bound To Bolt.  I do have writing influence in the band, and I’m proud of my additions and the collaborations, but in my mind it is and has always been Liz and Amanda’s band, and I play in their band.  I’ve known them for a good chunk of my life, and during that time they have always played music together.  So I do get annoyed when people ask me, “can your folk punk band play this show”.  It’s not my folk punk band!  I get it, I’m the one who is more involved with the scene, so they see me playing with another project and people automatically think it’s my project.  Even though we play none of my songs and the content is very different.  Either way, I’m letting those of you who don’t know, know the essential history of these two creative humans.

#musicblog #musichistory #RVA #richmond #Philly #Folkpunk #punkrock

[kradeelav]

for the longest time i felt really guilty about giving up on IRON CROWN but i think between wrapping this 100k fic, releasing FALKE, finishing a bunch of fandom exchanges early this year and a few zines before, i'm genuinely starting to keep consistent promises re: timelines (or like, finishing creative projects at all).

the biggest secret to that feels like it's keeping everything under 6 months of work.

perks of keeping creative projects to <6mo:

logistics are a lot easier to deal with. you need to redo all the pages in a specific way (like formatting for print or a different site)? cool, there's at least a reasonable chunk (say 50 pages and under) to deal with versus 200+ pages.

people's art styles change all the time. my style changes/improves noticeably at least once a year minimum. keeping projects in a shorter time frame helps you from having to redo old pages and/or being annoyed at inconsistencies.

you can double-fist 2 totally tonally different projects which helps (keeps my brain at least) from getting too bored/too burnt out with being hyperfocused on one, and still expect to finish them within a reasonable time frame.

you get a pretty cool and varied projects page much quicker than 1 biiiiiiig project. 4 years into creating random shit with this in mind and you get to pick out the cream of the crop, even if there's a few failed projects along the way (also totally normal).

if a new shiny idea hits you in the face (see: my 5 month long fic binge with gunter) it's also much easier to switch gears temporarily while the fire's still hot with the new thing without feeling like you've abandoned $old_thing entirely.

the webcomics industry that's popped up in the last 10 years sucks in uniquely horrific ways. literally when i crunched the numbers i was making 10x the amount of money off of (at that point) a shitty contractor designer salary vs my combined patreon+ad income, and i had a pretty "good" patreon income (eg low 3 figures). 40hr/week drawing webcomics on top of a dayjob that's 40/hr week will burn you out. if you HAVE to make comics, make shorter 6-month sprints of comics with months of rest in between that you keep to yourself or throw up later as a zine/comic store. zine stores are orders of magnitude less stress to maintain.

#not art #just words of advice from somebody who's been there with the webcomics grind #learned a lot! still broke my brain in the un-fun way.

[maxwell-grant]

Excuse Me what is pulp and why is it importan?

Good question! And probably one I should have answered sooner. Time to put on the historian hat for this one.

"Pulp" is a term used mainly to describe forms of storytelling that sprang out or were dominant in 20th century cheap all-fiction American magazines from the 1900s to the 1950s. The pulp magazine began in 1896, when Frank Munsey's Argosy magazine, in order to cut costs, dropped the non-fiction articles and photographs and switched from glossy paper to the much less expensive wood pulp paper, hence the name. The pulp magazines would mainly take off as a distinct market and format in 1904, when Street & Smith learned that Popular Magazine, despite being marketed towards boys, was being consumed by men of all ages, so they increased page count and started putting popular authors on the issues.

It was specifically the 1905 reprint of H.Rider Haggard's Ayesha that not only put Street & Smith on the map as rivals to Argosy, but also inspired other companies to start publishing in the pulp format. Pulps encompassed literally everything that the authors felt like publishing. Westerns, romance, horror, sci-fi, railroad stories, war stories, war aviation stories. Zeppelins had a short-lived subgenre. Celebrities got their own magazines, it was really any genre or format they could pull off, anything they could get away with.

Nowadays, although they came quite late in it's history, the American pulps are most famous for it's "hero pulps", characters like The Shadow and Doc Savage that are viewed as a formative influence on comic book superheroes. The pulp magazines in America lasted until the 1950s, when cumulative factors such as paper shortages, diminishing audience returns and the closing of it's biggest publishers led to it dying off, although in the decades since there's always been publishers calling their magazines pulp. That's the American pulp history.

But pulps are a phenomenon that spans the entire world and has a much bigger history to it, because pulps have become synonymous with cheap fiction magazines and those have a much bigger history. In America, before the pulps, you had the dime novels, the direct predecessors of the pulps, as well as the novelettes. England had it's penny dreadfuls and story papers, and continued publishing pulp-format magazines past the American 1950s, and that's how we got Elric of Melniboné. France and Russia arguably got to it first with it's 1800s coulporters, chapbooks and particularly the feuilletons which lasted all the way to the 20th century and created characters such as Arsene Lupin, Fantomas and The Phantom of the Opera. The Germans published pulp under the name hefteromane. Japan also published pulp magazines both original as well as imported, and the current "light-novel" phenomenon started off as an equivalent of pulp magazines (it's even on the Wikipedia page). China has wuxia, Brazil has cordel, Italy has gialli. There were Indian, Persian, Ethiopian, Canadian, Australian pulps and much more. Look anywhere in the world and you'll find examples of "pulp" happening again and again, under different circumstances and time periods.

Even if we stick to American fiction, it's impossible to state that all pulp heroes must come from the 1900s-1950s pulp magazines, because that forces us to exclude some of the most popular pulp heroes like Indiana Jones, Green Hornet, Rocketeer and The Phantom. Pulp may have once been a term meant to refer to pulp magazines exclusively, but it's morphed and lost structure and it's become the closest thing we have to a general umbrella term that allows us to try and consolidate these under a shared history. It's a lot, as you can see, and it's why several pulp historians that broaden their scope outside of 1930s American fiction have adopted Roland Barthes's definition of pulp as "A Metaphor With No Brakes In It", which is still the closest thing to a true working definition we have.

Why is it important? You tell me. I don't like to stake claims about stuff being "important", everyone's got their own priorities in life. Surely a lot of people would scoff at the idea of old populist fiction published in what was functionally equivalent to toilet paper having any sort of "importance". On the other hand, some people definitely want to talk big about the pulps as a cultural bedrock of fiction, something that's baked into the lifeblood of all fiction as we currently know it. Which it is, mind you, but I don't like to talk about pulp fiction's value being derived mainly from merely the things it inspired.

There is definitely a historical importance to be had in cataloguing them. According to the US's foremost pulp researcher Jess Nevins, 38% of all American pulps no longer exist, and 14% of all American pulps survive in less than five copies. Many libraries have very scant, if any, records on them, many collectors are hard to locate and are uncooperative when it comes to sharing information and letting outsiders view their collections. A lot of them are bound up in legal complications that prevents them from taking off in the public domain, and a lot of them ARE public domain but are completely inacessible as research material. And that's the American pulps, foreign pulps have fared far worse in posterity, with records inaccessible to people unfamiliar with the language or locations, many existing merely in mentions on decades-old records, and hundreds if not thousands of them being completely gone beyond recovery or recall.

Gone, dead, wasted, destroyed. They can't be found in barbershops or warehouse or bookstores, not even in antique stores. Hundreds, thousands of characters, stories and creators, gone. Time and posterity have crushed them to dust, forgotten and ignored by their successors. Unfettered by pretenses of respectability that repressed their glossier counterparts, in packages meant to be destroyed after reading, proudly announcing itself as trash. Things that should have never even lasted as long as they did have died many times now. It's heroes peripherical shapeshifters, nearly all of whom seem dead, quite dead, as dead as fictional characters can possibly be.

But they do not die forever. Many of them have, maybe most of them have, but many of them linger on.

"The strange red flickering of 1930’s fiction seems distant now.  You hold in your hand the product of a time too remote to recall, and feel a slow stir of wonder.  The smell of pulp pages, an illustration, an advertisement, these fragile things mark the slow hammering of time and display what it has done.  About you are today’s machines, today’s shadows.

Outside the window, leaves hang against the sky, as did leaves during the 1930’s.  The sound of voices are no different then than now.  You hold the magazine and feel something quite delicate slipping past. These solid forms surrounding you are all insubstantial. Time’s hammer will also pass across them, leaving little enough behind." - Spider, by Robert Sampson

Many of the things people call dead are just things that have been sleeping for a while or haven't had the chance to be born. Pulp fiction is dead on the page, inert, unless your imagination breathes live to it, and every now and then, one way or another, these characters dig themselves out of dustbins. Maybe it's a brief revival, maybe it's a successful reboot. Maybe they find publishers, or maybe the public domain allows them to find new life. Maybe new creators do interesting things with them, and maybe, just maybe, they live again because some won't shut up about them online. Some curious impulse led you to me, did it not? 

We all have our Frankensteins to obsess over, and these are some of mine. As someone who's lived a life perpetually restless over pursuit of knowledge, pulp has lured me like a moth to flame, because I literally never run out of things to discover within it, I never run out of possibilities. As the years pass and the public domain starts being more and more open to the public, more and more narrative real state is brought forth for writers and artists and creators to play around.

Pulp is the dark matter of fiction, the uncatalogued depths of the ocean, the darkest recesses of space. It's the box of your grandfather's belongings, the treasure you find in an attic, a body part sticking out from an old playground. It's the things that don't work, don't succeed, the things that don't fit, that are out of place. That shouldn't live and succeed, and did so anyway. The things that slither in the cracks, the shadows behind the curtain.

Aren't you interested in peering on what's behind the curtain?

The exquisite workmanship of the head, of a pre-pyramidal age, and the hieroglyphics, symbols of a language that was forgotten when Rome was young–these, Kane sensed, were additions as modern to the antiquity of the staff itself as would be English words carved on the stone monoliths of Stonehenge.

As for the cat-head–looking at it sometimes Kane had a peculiar feeling of alteration; a faint sensing that once the pommel of the staff was carved with a different design. The dust-ancient Egyptian who had carved the head of Bast had merely altered the original figure, and what that figure had been, Kane had never tried to guess.

A close scrutiny of the staff always aroused a disquieting and almost dizzy suggestion of abysses of eons, unprovocative to further speculation. - The Footfalls Within, by Robert E Howard, quoted by Stuart Hopen’s The Mythic American Culture

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #argosy #h rider haggard #ayesha #robert e howard #solomon kane