Mad Inktober 2023 #5 Emily the Corpse Bride
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Pistol packin' mama,
lay that thing down before it goes off
and hurts somebody!
—“Pistol Packin’ Mama,” Bing Crosby (1943)
It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’
#24 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding III
Collaborative Issue!
Guest Artist: @yesjejunus
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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own
Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:
Notes:
Oh noooooooooooo :(
These pages might get shrunken a little by Tumblr for some reason so either right-click to view at full-size or just read it on AO3 at the link above. And give a round of applause to my wonderful and wonderfully talented friend @yesjejunus who returns to guest art duty with this new issue, which is just another car crashing into the pile-up that is happening to Agnes in the closing half of Volume 2. Issue #25 will be all of my own art again, and I've been working for a long time on reinventing the look, feel, and production of IKROAH's artstyle so I hope you'll all be as excited as I am. Some really big things are about to happen.
Original Pencils
Here's another reason why mr. jejunus deserves a round of applause: patience. I talk often about how IKROAH is a very long-term project but this issue marks the longest collaboration in the history of the comic: the original pencils for this issue were drawn in August 2021. This was also when yesjejunus and I first discussed him doing guest art for this issue, and it would have been a lot sooner, of course, but you know, things (like months of burnout) can just happen. By the time this issue was finally next in the queue, I had committed to increasing the resolution of IKROAH's pages just to ease my own production, but these pencils were still formatted for the old size. I had to reformat these pencils for the new size and aspect ratio.
The tumblr editor keeps crashing every time I try to include them, so here's links instead: [1] [2] [3].
The thing about working with yesjejunus on comic issues like this is that at this point we're so deep in each other's heads that I barely even need to give him feedback. He understands the assignment completely because we're both sickos pressed against each other's brain-windows going "Yes…ha ha ha…yes!" and drooling. It's the kind of friendship as well as creative partnership that you really just treasure.
Transcript
INT. BENNY'S BEDROOM, THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS.
AGNES SANDS stares down, exhausted, at BENNY, the leader of the Chairmen and the man who shot her in the head.
BENNY does not stare back. He is dead. His eyes have rolled up lifelessly and blood is oozing from the gruesome wound in his skull.
AGNES looks away.
Suddenly—
SFX: KNOCK KNOCK
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Hey, Ben-man! Everything alright in there?
AGNES jerks up in surprise. She searches her surroundings frantically, looking for a way out. The gun that she shot BENNY with—the gun that BENNY shot her with—is still in her hand. She sees a side door, barely ajar, leading out of BENNY'S BEDROOM with a dim light coming from behind it.
AGNES sprints forward, her arm outstretched to shove open the door, and barges in. Then she freezes in her tracks. In front of her is a large and ambulatory machine, with claw-like arms and a computer monitor in its center. The monitor displays an unchanging vector of a happily smiling face. It speaks.
THE MACHINE: Hello! I'm Yes Ma—
AGNES raises the gun with both hands and fires repeatedly, her eyes wide and mouth agape in terror. She empties it of every single other bullet that was left in it.
THE MACHINE (shorting out): I-I'm sorry…!!
THE MACHINE crumples from the repeated shots, which shatter its monitor-face like a glass window and send it falling backwards. Its robotic corpse snaps and cracks with electricity and malfunctioning hardware as AGNES remains stunned in the doorway.
SFX: KNOCK KNOCK
AGNES looks up as BENNY'S men pound harder on the door to the suite.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Benny! We heard shots! We're coming in!
AGNES drops the gun and flees through the hallway's secret private elevator.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Oh, shit, somebody iced 'im! Get security!
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My Favourite Villains Part 1 - 7 Art Dump (Old Art.)
Villains~
Pennywise (1990)
Pennywise (2017)
Slappy (Goosebumps)
Dr Kamikazi (Robotboy)
Chucky (Child's Play)
Fats (Magic)
Billy (Dead Silence)
N-Gin (Crash Bandicoot)
Hypno (Creepypasta)
King Dice (Cuphead)
Baldi (Baldi's Basics in Education and Learning.)
Zander (Dinosaur King)
Gideon (Gravity Falls)
Sideshow Bob (The Simpsons)
Penguin (The Batman: Animated Series)
Dr Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb)
Mad Mod (Teen Titans)
Defoe (Huntik: Seekers and Secrets)
Little Ogre (Soul Eater)
Dr Phineus Phibes (Shaggy and Scooby Doo Get a Clue)
Dr Calico (Bolt)
Purple Guy (Five Nights At Freddy's)
Mandark (Dexter's Laboratory)
Evil Rick (Rick and Morty)
Mad Hatter (Batman: Animated Series)
The Major (Hellsing Ultimate)
Danzo (Naruto Shippuden)
Vector (Despicable Me)
Archibald Snatcher (The Boxtrolls)
Frollo (Hunchback of Notredame)
Cedric (Sofia the First)
King Candy (Wreck it Ralph)
Gallaxhar (Monsters VS Aliens)
Jack Spicer (Xaolin Showdown)
Jeffery Hawk (Dead by Daylight)
Akainu (One Piece)
Dr.Maniac (Goosebumps.)
Unwanted House Guest (Creepypasta/Meme.)
Jareth the Goblin King (Labyrinth.)
Dr Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs.)
Syndrome (The Incredibles.)
Dr Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog.)
Maxie (Pokemon.)
Captain (Armando) Salazzar (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man Tells No Tales.)
The Look-See (Crypt TV's The Look-See.)
Kureo Mado (Tokyo Ghoul.)
Drei (Hiiro No Kakera.)
W.D. Gaster (Undertale.)
Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street.)
Drago Bludvist (How to Train Your Dragon.)
Claude Faustus (Black Butler.)
Stefano Valentini (Evil Within 2.)
John Bacchus (Future Diary.)
Kisame Hoshigaki (Naruto Shippuden.)
Mayuri Kurotsuchi (Bleach.)
Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter.)
Tighten (Megamind.)
2nd Dimension Dr Heinz Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb: The Movie.)
Dr.Octopus (Spiderman 2.)
Squilliam (Spongebob Squarepants.)
Mr.Chuckle Teeth (The X-Files.)
Laughing Jack (Creepypasta.)
Weevil Underwood (YU-GI-OH!)
Dr.Herman Carter (Dead By Daylight.)
Babadook (The Babadook.)
The Child Catcher (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.)
Colonel Muska (Studio Ghibli's Laputa Castle.)
Ghetsis (Pokemon.)
The Crooked Man (The Conjuring 2.)
Crocodile (One Piece.)
Danny Dickens (Angels Of Death.)
Kabuto (Naruto Shippuden.)
Yami Marik (YU-GI-OH!)
Byakuran Katekyo (Hitman Reborn.)
Jason The Toymaker (Creepypasta.)
Slenderman (Slenderman: The Movie.)
Igor Neuhaus (Blue Exorcist.)
Captain Kuro (One Piece.)
Guzma (Pokemon.)
Mr.Wood (Goosebumps.)
Professor Venomous (OK K.O. Let's Be Heroes.)
Lyle Tiberius Rourke (Atlantis.)
Faba (Pokemon.)
Petrel (Pokemon.)
Cyrus (Pokemon.)
Lysandre (Pokemon.)
Arlo (Pokemon.)
Evil Dr Phibes (Shaggy and Scooby Doo Get a Clue.)
Papillon (Buso Renkin.)
The Joker (Batman: Animated Series.)
Mr X (Resident Evil.)
Foolscap (Dinosaur King.)
Giovanni (Pokemon.)
Tamatoa (Moana.)
The Toymaker (Harmony & Horror.)
Jean-Louise Bonaparte (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX.)
Benson (Toy Story 4.)
Ed (Dinosaur King.)
Mr Burns (The Simpsons.)
Victor (Boruto.)
Beppi The Clown (Cuphead.)
Scud (Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie: Pyramid Of Light.)
Sordward (Pokemon SWSH.)
Sheildbert (Pokemon SWSH.)
Sakutaro Morishige (Corpse Party.)
Mr Hook (MAR.)
Malvolio (Twelfth Night Manga.)
Captain Hook (Peter Pan.)
John Ratcliffe (Pocahontas.)
Fagin (BBC's Oliver Twist.)
Jack Randall (Outlander.)
Waluigi (Mario.)
The Toad (Flushed Away.)
Gnauss Wisden (NiNoKuni.)
Orochimaru (Naruto.)
Braz D. Blood (Blood Lad.)
Douman Ashiya (Tokyo Ravens.)
Shidou Dairenji (Tokyo Ravens.)
Dr. Yung (Pokemon: The Mastermind Of The Mirage Pokemon.)
Mr Big (Michael Jackson's Moonwalker.)
Grings Kodai (Pokemon: Zoroark: Master Of Illusions.)
Dick Dastardly (Scooby Doo Movie.)
Greed (Fullmetal Alchemist.)
Hidan (Naruto Shippuden.)
Mandrake (Earwig And The Witch.)
Murder The Clown (Goosebumps.)
Kai Chisaki (My Hero Academia.)
The Grabber (The Black Phone.)
The Gold Watcher (Dark Deception.)
Miroku Yukihiko (Get Backers.)
Sartorius Kumar (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX.)
Schneizel El Britannia (Code Geass.)
Chairman Rose (Pokemon SWSH.)
Koichi Shidou (Highschool Of The Dead.)
The Riddler (Assault On Arkham.)
Sugou Nobuyuki (Sword Art Online.)
The Handsome Young Man (A Tale Dark & Grimm.)
The Pied Piper (Shrek 4.)
Aizen Sosuke (Bleach.)
Demiurge (Overlord.)
I plan on drawing more of my favourite villains at some point.
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Questions New Staffers Often Ask
Starting any new job has questions. Who are you guys, why are you making me do this, when is lunch, and of course... we get paid for this, right? No worries, Auntie Rabbit is here with the important answers. As a witch, anomaly, and senior staffer, I'm not allowed to accept cash. But... payment in candy is always welcome, I also accept wine, nice beads, art supplies, and tea. Senior staffers are generally discouraged in buying/receiving souls in payment, FYI. There's some useful stuff, but there's also some... well... less-than-intelligent questions I've had thrown at me.
Is it possible to ride 682? In theory, yes. In practice, anyone who tried it other than Dr. Kondraki wound up as a tasty between meal snack for our oversized asshole kaiju knockoff. So, in practice... no.
Does 049 know what the Pestilence is? Tough one... yes and no, I'd say. He knows what to look for but not the actual transmission vector.
Which 001 is the real one? Don't know, honestly. It's way above even Dr. Gears' clearance levels. Best not to speculate. I honestly doubt it'll matter to the dead.
No, you cannot arrange for your ex to contract a nasty viral SCP as revenge for dumping you. Using anomalies for such purposes is forbidden, you will be demoted to D-Class, then further demoted to corpse. What is wrong with some of you?
Yes, I had to go through Dr. Clef's seminars, just like you. No, I do not know what he uses. No, I'm not the least bit curious. Yes, I puked up my breakfast like everyone else. Just because Clef likes me, I get off no easier than the lot of you. Pro tip for those who haven't taken the seminar yet... smuggle in some ginger ale and plain saltines. Trust me, it will make recovery easier.
It's perfectly safe to talk to 049 and other Euclid/Safe class anomalies provided protocols are followed. That being said, please stop trying to sell them multilevel marketing stuff. Multilevel marketing is banned throughout all Foundation sites for good reason, and it's not like the anomalies have money.
No, SCP Speed Dating never happened. No, there are no records. No, you're not supposed to even think of the anomalies like that. 076-2 may be "fine AF" and "hotter than the deserts", he's also incredibly likely to kill you before you even say hello to him. It never happened, it never WILL happen, anyone trying to make it happen will have their own date... with 173.
While I'm sure 049 would love a hug now and then, it's not safe. Sorry, but he IS Euclid for a reason, no matter how sweet and nice he is.
Putting 999 in a blender is a bit like going on a high speed tilt-a-whirl for him. That being said, it feels so wrong even thinking of it. So, no 999 blender rides. Feel free to give him hugs though.
If Dr. Clef asks you to do something, think long and hard before agreeing. If Dr. Bright asks, the answer is automatically 'No.'
The Bright List is supposed to be a horrible warning, not a how-to guide.
Dr. Gears is, indeed, human. He just had his sense of humor shot off. Probably by Bright or Clef.
No, you cannot have a Ketchup Puppy as a pet. They're simply impossible to house train.
This one is for Dr. Clef: yes, mushrooms decay around Cain. He killed the growth on my maitake log on my desk. I'm not mad, though. Turns out, being both plantlike and animalistic to a degree just meant my poor maitake lasted five minutes versus the normal instant decay. They never grew back. I'm not big on mushrooms anyway. He also kills lichen.
We tried 682 burgers. Worst. Burgers. Ever! Not even dousing the things in ghost pepper sauce could save them. It was like biting the zombie back, honestly. Don't ask how I came to that conclusion.
Speaking of biting back the zombies... 682 DID contract 008 that way once. He was sick for all of an hour, but got better. He really is nigh unkillable.
I do not recognize the bodies in the water. You do not recognize the bodies in the water. No one recognizes the bodies in the water.
How many SCPs are there? We're not entirely sure. Some would say we're a bit overladen with Keters, though. I do know the database lies.
The staff restroom is located to the left of the south wing, three doors after the supply closet. Now you know.
Everyone says Dr. Clef is two-faced. That's simply false. He's got more faces than a mask shop. They just look a lot alike.
Advice for the ladies out there: if a thin, weasel-faced MTF agent with greasy brown hair and more bumps on his face than 20 km of bad road asks if you want to see a 'naked Mole Rat', say no. Agent O'Hare really needs to get new lines.
No, sadly... the cake is real. Really, really, REALLY bad. The breads are also terrible. In fact... try to avoid the cafeteria food if possible.
No, Iris does not like the flower she's named for. She says the scent is choking. So, if you're going to give Agent Thompson flowers, daisies or roses are the safe bets.
No one knows who exactly is on O5. And it's not worth the risk of becoming bunkies with the D-Class to find out.
How to tell if a Type Green is mucking about in reality's egg salad? Doors and windows vanishing is a big clue. Inanimate objects trying to bite you, floors falling away, suddenly feeling like the entire universe hates you specifically, and colors shifting. Just close your eyes for a second, if you're confident in your safety, breathe in, hold for 7 seconds, breathe out. Remind yourself of where you were before it all went weird. Then, shoot the Bixby before he rescrambles your egg. (I need to step away from the Bioshock, next thing you know I'll be referring to Clef as Big Daddy, he'd be way too into that!)
Food fights are (technically) forbidden. However, in case of Containment Beach/outside invasion, you can, in fact, use Mabel's baked goods as impromptu weapons. That poor MC&D thug never saw that baguette coming. Yes, it would count as a Geneva Covention violation on the outside, but as the Geneva Accords do not apply to us... the Parker House rolls work great as projectiles. Dr. Iceberg didn't even need to freeze them. They can instacrit harder than the RE4 rotten eggs!
Running crappy dollar store novels through 914 is a waste of time. Nothing can improve those saccharine pieces of mass published literary junk food.
Yes, Dr. Bright nearly started a war with Amazon. Yes, while breaches were down that week, it wasn't worth facing Bezos. Nothing is.
Playing tag with the Keters is forbidden. Why? Why do you want to die so badly?
Playing ANYTHING with Dr. Bright is a bad call. He's a sore loser. No card games with Dr. Cimmerian either, he's been banned from every casino, back room poker game, Pokémon tournament, and even the site 25 weekly cribbage games. He never cheats, he's just really good at card games. Anomalously good.
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Research | Insects and Beauty in Terror
"And so it goes. In Africa, a mosquito bites a man and kills him. In India, an evil person beats a child and is reincarnated as an insect. In Siberia, one dies and the soul may leave the body as a wasp. Alexander the Great is preserved in golden honey and his body is shown to luminaries for centuries. Conversely, in Medieval Europe the body of St. Clare is devoured by insects while being admired by the faithful as an incorruptible or miraculous preservation. In Russia, the mortician in charge of preserving Lenin’s body in Red Square has a recurring nightmare of a fly buzzing inside Lenin’s sarcophagus. Clearly, insects abound in both the physical reality and the mythology of death in cultures around the world." (1)
In the same vein as the previous topic, I will be using the Six Thinking Hats model of thinking postulated by Dr. de Bono when approaching this topic. The inspiration for this topic stems from a song I discovered a couple of months ago; The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, which deals with the fear of insects as a metaphor for psychosis. Personally, as I mentioned before, I am deathly afraid of insects, however I find them incredibly fascinating. When I think of insects, I think of Terror in Beauty. But why? Why have humans collectively associated insects, an incredibly broad group as creepy crawlies? To understand this, I dove into the symbolism of insects in art.
Arguably the most well known piece of art or literature to make mention of an insect is Little Miss Muffet. Why is it that a nursery rhyme makes mention of a spider and immediately ties it to the idea of fear? The spider, in this instance has done nothing. Its mere existence is what scares Miss Muffet. Why is that? Is it to do with the inherently alien stature of insects? Throughout pop culture, the common basis for extraterrestrial or otherworldly designs has always been an arthropod. Or does it go deeper than this? To find out, we must look at insects from an evolutionary perspective, and the impact of insects on the human psyche.
The fear of insects is known as Entomophobia, and appears to have persisted since the dawn of mankind. It is one of the most common fears in the world. One common belief of why this is so, sans their unsightly appearance their intrinsic link to death. "Insects cause death. Especially as disease vectors, insects have killed humans from time immemorial and have even influenced the fate of nations. Insects eat the dead. The role of various insects as decomposers of animal corpses, including man, is well known. The biology of these insects is used in crime fighting as forensic entomology to determine such factors as the time of death or the location of a murder (Erzinclioglu 2000). The preceding are physical realities of insects in relation to death in the real world." (1) This passage from a study conducted by Ron Cherry posits that this is a reason for entomophobia.
This could explain the relationship between arthropods and death in mythology. In many cultures and religions around the world, misfortune, sickness and death have been linked back to insects. The Bible states that of the Seven Plagues sent by God to the Egyptians during the time of Jewish slavery, one was a plague of locusts to ravish their crops and livelihood. Similarly, the locust is also regarded as the bringer of death in the mythology of the Wiyot of California. In South Africa, the praying mantis is known as the God of the Hottentots and is blamed for humanity's loss of immortality in their mythos.
These mythological references even persist in modern times. A genus of booklice was aptly given the family name Atropidae, named after one of the Three Fates in Greek mythology, Atropos. Allegedly, Atropos was the Fate that determined the course of human destiny, and her role was to cut the Thread of Life. The genus Atropidae was given this name because it was thought that members of this genus made a tapping noise on wood at the moment of death of humans.
Cherry also makes note of how insects are also a symbol of life after death, or rebirth. "Guralnik (1970) defines a symbol as something that stands for or represents another thing, especially an object used to represent something abstract. The use of an insect image to suggest or denote something other than itself—an abstract idea or quality—is to be recognized as true symbolism and distinguished from purely linguistic, artistic, or pragmatic representation or
venerations of the insect (Hogue 1975)." (1) Notable symbols of rebirth consist of butterflies for their ability to metamorphosise, cicadas as a symbol of immortality due to their desiccated appearances and place in Chinese funeral rites, and infamously the scarab beetle regarded as a sacred symbol by the Ancient Egyptian civilisation.
Further driving the notion of insects as symbols of death and rebirth, the Warao of Venezuela have a rich insect mythology that includes powerful insect spirits. They are Black Bee, Blue Bee, Termite, and Wasp. It is said that these insects gather around a board on which the insects play a game that determines the fate of life on earth. Also, one Warao god is Warowaro, the Butterfly god (Calligo sp.). If a shaman had served the Butterfly god, he would go to the god upon his death to live a blissful afterlife (Cherry 2007).
An observation that becomes immediately apparent is the role of death and the fear of insects is not simply reserved for the ugliest of the brood, but even those as beautiful as bejeweled scarab and the delicate butterfly. This belief may tie into why children are taught to respect even the smallest of life forms at a young age, out of not just respect for all life but the fear that had been instilled into humanity since the dawn of civilisation. However, with fear also comes an oddly perverse fascination. This is especially noted in children. A study conducted by Haefner in 2006 noted that presenting children with insects elicit a wide range of reactions from fear to excitement, to be expected. Despite this, the insect handler receives a steady stream of questions from children on all parts of that fear-excitement spectrum and a great sense of curiosity. (2)
It does not stop at study, as previously mentioned insects have remained prevalent throughout art and literature for centuries as seen by the works of creatives like Ulisse Aldrovandi, Joris Hoefnagel, Johannes Goedart, and Franz Kafka, and this persists even in the modern day seen through popular tales such as Alice in Wonderland, and even permeating Japanese media such as Tokyo Ghoul. This could be attributed to humanity's daily exposure to some form of insect or another. What is it that gives humanity this urge of morbid curiosity?
According to a study conducted by C.W Scrivner of the University of Chicago, they posit that morbid curiosity derives from an evolved cognitive architecture for predator management, is powered by curiosity, and, in humans, is amplified by the capacity for imagination. Their basis for these claims rely on the study of predator detection and avoidance and predator inspection, as well as William James and Daniel Berlyne's models of curiosity. Their definition of curiosity is divided into two parts; perceptual curiosity and epistemic curiosity, the latter of which is largely exclusive to humans. (3) They go on to say that if curiosity refers to internal motivation for information gathering, and organisms are sometimes internally motivated to learn about threats, then it follows that organisms are sometimes curious about threats. This would go on to explain why morbid curiosity occurs. In the modern day, humanity does not see insects as threats, however due to our shared history with insects and what we know about them through mythology and knowledge passed down from our predecessors, I hypothesize that subconsciously, humans still view insects as threats, albeit on more of a psychological level (an extreme case of this is seen in individuals with psychosis). However, as I mentioned in the beginning of the analysis of this topic, there is beauty in terror. A butterfly, the symbol of death and rebirth, is simultaneously beautiful and terrifying to those who revere it.
Already a few positives on this topic present themselves; due to the saturation of insects being used as a means to communicate the otherworldly, eldritch or horror type themes, we begin to learn and understand more about them through media. Further, this idea of insects being tied to death allows for storytellers to tap into the core of human nature and bring out interesting and meaningful narratives. This also could strive to inform on some real world dangers of insects, such as the spread of disease and rot.
In terms of negatives, the point of insects constantly being represented this way in media is a double edged sword, causing irrational fear among the public. Furthermore, this could also discourage interaction with these fascinating creatures as well, and due to superstitions and cultural beliefs could even lead to an active hatred towards insects, due to generalization of bugs as a group. There is also the very real problem of rampant misinformation being spread this way.
A solution to the problem of entomophobia has already been provided in this study; education. As mentioned before, morbid curiosity could stem from a desire to understand "threats". Already, some schools in Canada have begun to use a new model of education which exposes children to outdoor, hands on learning. This allows them to explore curiosity and learn more effectively about the natural world around them. I intend to take this further, by using this concept of exposure in my final animation through multisensory art, the film itself being my design solution and part of a campaign to represent the ethereal beauty and positive representation of insects through the research of preexisting mythology. As mentioned in a previous post, this topic offers limitless potential for experimentation and this in particular is an avenue I feel I can use as an opportunity to tap into the human psyche.
(1) Cherry, R., 2011. Insects and death. American Entomologist, 57(2), pp.82-85.
(2) Ernst, C., Vinke, K., Giberson, D. and Buddle, C.M., 2013. Insects in Education: Creating tolerance for some of the world’s smallest citizens. The management of insects in recreation and tourism, pp.289-305.
(3) Scrivner, C.W., 2022. The psychology of morbid curiosity (Doctoral dissertation, The University of Chicago), pp.9-24.
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4,5,8.11, 16 and 25 for the artist ask thing!
4. Favourite things to draw?
I love drawing faces! Especially hair and eyes. It shows a lot, I think.
5. Anything you haven't drawn yet but want to?
It doesn't quite count as "haven't drawn yet," but landscape backgrounds. There's some attempts scattered in my art, but I've never drawn a landscape that I'm happy with.
8. What do you like most about your own work?
A lot of friends will point out that my art is best when I'm doing elaborate shading, and I tend to agree. If my drawing doesn't have 3-4 layers of just lighting, it's not truly my best.
Otherwise? The cleanliness of my linework. People get mad at me over how clean my sketches are lol
11. Favorite comment you've ever recieved on your work?
I CAN'T FIND THE SPECIFIC ONE ANYMORE but my favorite was definitely some comment about printing my art on their skin. Or any "I'm going to eat your art" comment. The weirder they are the more I love them.
16. What's the most daunting part of your process? Ex, planning, sketching, lineart, rendering etc
VECTOR LINEART MY BELOATHED. It's only on specific big pieces that I do that but it takes like 10x longer than my usual process but gives the nicest, cleanest lineart you've ever seen.
25. Based on your recent reference searches, what would the FBI assume about you?
My current WIP literally has an obscured corpse in it, I don't wanna know.
[ Art Asks ]
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corpse husband vector
/2 hours/
I love corpse husband :)
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More Than Meets the Eye #1- Meeting All Our New Friends
Okay, let’s see what happens when you give one man way too much power over a franchise, and he doesn’t use it for evil.
Before we get into the story, let’s take a look at the cover art! MTMTE, as well as its sister series, Robots in Disguise, started off IDW Phase Two, a brand new run of main comics to replace the by-then completed The Transformers (2009). To celebrate this momentous occasion, each comic’s first issue got FOUR separate covers, which could be combined to create a large, overarching image. MTMTE’s looked like this when all the covers were put together.
The cover art here is by Alex Milne, who is on as the main artist for the series, but he’s not on issue #1- no, for our foray into this comic run, we see the return of Nick Roche.
The last time Roche and Roberts worked together was on Last Stand of the Wreckers, and other than MTMTE #6 and the Revolution one-shot, they won’t be teaming up again within the IDW run.
On a potentially-related-but-more-of-just-a-humorous note, it seems that Roberts is a huge stickler with his scripts, going into what sounds like an honestly horrific amount of detail for each individual panel. The average comic script is either between 20-23 or 28-30 pages long, not counting title and credit pages. Roberts has been cited as sending in comic scripts that approached 50 pages.
Which, if you know anything about the scriptwriting process, is a little… yeah. It’s a very good thing Roberts seems to be able to take criticism.
ANYWAY.
IT’S TIME.
The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye- Liars, A to D Part 1: How to Say Goodbye and Mean It- holy fucking shit that’s a long title- starts off with the Story So Far, a comic book classic to catch readers up on what’s happened prior to the issue. The very nature of a Story So Far will become plot-relevant much later down the line, but as is, it’s just reminding us what happened during Phase One, in as basic a point as it can.
And then the credits are right underneath.
I can’t even imagine how friggin’ good seeing this printed must have felt.
So, what’s going on in the premiere of the sad, gay, space comic?
Not my phrasing, by the way, but the Wiki’s.
So, the war’s over. What does that mean? Well, a lot of things, honestly, but the first thing we’re given in terms of what changes to expect with everyone’s favorite space robots is in relation to their wardrobes. Yeah, without a war to fight, what’s the point in having relatively identical blocky armor that protects all your insides? It’s time to get skimpy.
Rodimus has switched out his toned calves and discernible ankles for the Uggs that are now positively iconic to his character. Drift’s mass has almost completely gravitated to his thighs, making him the curviest thing this side of the Milky Way. Ultra Magnus didn’t get the memo about not needing to be in uniform anymore, I guess, but somehow I doubt he owns anything casual.
Rodimus, Drift, and Magnus are holding a rally to invite Autobots to come on their party-barge to find the Knights of Cybertron, in an effort to heal the planet, because Rodimus took one look at post-war Cybertron and said “no thanks.” Honestly, I think most would, if these properly colored characters are any indication.
Just the Autobots, by the way. We aren’t ready to be friends with the ‘Cons just yet. Swindle did some major damage on that front.
Prowl and Wheeljack are off to the side discussing this turn of events, and while Wheeljack seems to think that a lot of folks will be boarding the ship and getting the hell out of dodge, Prowl’s expecting nothing to come of it.
So, that was yesterday. What’s going on today?
Inside Kimia, there’s a dead guy. He wasn’t dead when he was brought in, but he is now. Who is he, anyway?
Oh, he’s one of the NAIL protesters, and he died because he was protesting by way of transforming on the steps of Autobot HQ, until his transformation cog burn out. Yep, that can kill you. Ratchet’s the one who performed the autopsy, as per Metalhawk’s request- he only wanted the best of the best on this.
Too bad the best of the best is starting to slump. After a brief scare with Rigor Morphis- the stiffening of the corpse into the body’s preferred mode- Ratchet explains to Bumblebee that his hands have started seizing up, and that’s why he’ll be leaving on the Lost Light with Rodimus. He just can’t do the work anymore.
This news is not well received by Bumblebee, who’s just about had it with everyone up and leaving him all by himself with the mess that is Cybertron.
Phase Two will not be kind to Bumblebee.
Bumblebee accuses Ratchet of having been insnared in Rodimus’ siren song of reclaiming the Golden Age, but c’mon, this is Ratchet! He’s too cynical to fall for that. He’s more interested in finding the Autobots who’ve been lost over the millennia to the war. Ratchet’s already well aware of the true purposes of this little galactic road trip, almost like he’s read the plot outline.
It’s about helping people, and adventure, and being unapologetically gay and sad in equal measures.
Up in the sky, Cyclonus is displeased. He spent six million years in the Dead Universe, under the control of a madman, waiting for the moment he could return to his beloved homeworld, and what does he get? A ball of half-baked primordial cookie-dough, and it’s not even chocolate-chip like he was expecting; it’s fucking oatmeal raisin.
Mmm, that is some tasty panel-breaking right there.
Of course, the I/D chip might not have worked anyway, seeing as Cyclonus got a little bit of a boost when Vector Sigma ejected everyone during the Matrix incident. It’s doing some weird stuff to his body, on top of whatever nonsense existing inside the Dead Universe does to a person.
Cyclonus is about to head over to the Lost Light- apparently he and Rodimus made a little deal off-panel- when he detects a familiar life sign and decides to see what that’s all about.
Over in Prowl’s office, things are tense. He and Chromedome can’t even look at each other, as Chromedome reveals that both he and Rewind are jumping on the Lost Light. Prowl doesn’t like this, not one bit. He needs Chromedome, needs his skills, his expertise. He tries to appeal to Rewind, knowing who wears the pants in this relationship.
Or, well, he tries.
Prowl, they’ve been married for over 250,000 years.
In all seriousness, this is slightly before the first tentative steps Roberts took towards making the franchise as gay as he possibly could, at least when going by the story’s chronology. The thing about professional comic script writing is that plotting/planning goes for a ways beyond the current script one’s working on, so that everyone knows where everyone else is. Considering the somewhat congruent nature between MTMTE and RiD, planning ahead was especially important.
Chromedome and Rewind were originally (like, first draft originally) meant to be best friends. This was to fill a void in the department of close relationships Roberts felt within the Transformers franchise. Then Roberts saw how handsy he’d been writing them during plotting and realized he’d made something a little different happen. Which still sort of went with what he was going for, just in a slightly different fashion. Chromedome and Rewind are a rare case of a writer NOT leaning into the “they’re just bros, bro” mentality and just letting the characters be together as romantic partners.
Also keep in mind that it would be another three fucking years before the United States would legalize same-sex marriage, which is where the IDW offices are located. You gotta ease that sort of change in, that way nobody realizes what you’re doing until it’s already been done, then you can go hog-wild. We won’t be hitting critical mass on the homonormative civilization that is IDW1 Cybertron for a solid year or so.
So this bit of dialogue is just the start of the setup, and the “best friend” line is either a leftover from earlier versions of the script, or Prowl really just is that big of an asshole.
Rewind is, of course, recording everything taking place on his handy-dandy little head-mounted camera, because history is his business, and he’s not going to stop recording for the likes of Prowl.
Rewind doesn’t like Prowl very much.
It would seem that the feeling is mutual.
Chromedome suddenly remembers that trying to reason with Prowl is like talking to a brick wall, and the two of them leave. Prowl responds to this slight by yelling in the hallway and then flipping a table.
I sure hope y’all like running gags.
Of course, Prowl wouldn’t be Prowl without having a few contingency plans in place for when things don’t go his way, and he makes a call to his inside guys to “load the cargo.”
That’s not ominous in the slightest.
Six million years prior to all this nonsense, a tiny little dude fell in a hole and broke his legs trying to get to work.
This is Tailgate, and he’s seen better days. Not many, mind you, but at least a couple. He was making his way to the launch of the original Ark, when he decided to take a shortcut that would change the course of his life forever. Hence the whole “stuck in a hole” thing. Still, he’s got to get out of here, because without him, the entire expedition is doomed!
For being an idiot, Tailgate’s pretty smart- he figures that if he sets off his energon rations, it’ll blast up through the roof of the cavern he’s in and someone will be able to find him. Good thing energon’s so incredibly volatile.
Speaking of volatile, let’s jump back to the present and check on our buddy Whirl.
It looks like Whirl also got a makeover between series, because he’s now sporting a much sleeker, angular frame, complete with long, tapered head.
Whirl’s currently busy thanking his new friends for spending so much time with him. It really meant a lot to him, their patience. Not many folks have been patient with him before.
Of course, it probably helps that all these guys are dead as hell.
It’s time for another Roberts’ staple- the suicide attempt. We won’t be using the robot-equivalent to Multiple Sclerosis though. This go around, we’ll be using a classic: self immolation!
Title drop! Bet you weren’t expecting it to have such a dark connotation, huh?
Cyclonus interrupts Whirl’s monologue and suicide attempt. He thought he’d seen his best buddy, Scourge, on his tracker, and his immediate response is to lurk in the shadows looking like a night demon wearing a party hat.
Fun fact: a group of Sweeps is called a Spring Cleaning.
Scourge isn’t here, and he won’t ever be. Scourge most likely died off-panel, never to be seen again, assumedly because nobody wanted to write for him. I think it’s the nails, puts people off.
Whirl doesn’t take kindly to the intrusion, and responds the only way he knows how.
It’s always embarrassing when your self-immolation gets interrupted, but maybe try taking a first deep breaths before committing to more war crimes, Whirlybird.
While these two morons fill the post-Bay movie explosion quota, Red Alert’s hard at work screening the passengers on the Lost Light. Currently, he’s checking Brainstorm, who’s making it as difficult as possible, both legally and emotionally. Red Alert waves him on with a grumble, without even getting a peek at what’s inside his mysterious briefcase.
Up next is Swerve.
His legs are so jacked, it makes me a little uncomfortable. Glad to see Swerve’s body reformat went swimmingly- seems he went for the classic “tires in the shoulders and ankles” model.
Oh hey, it’s Rung! Hi Rung!
This series will not be kind to Rung.
While Cyclonus and Whirl terrorize the folks just trying to get on board the dang ship, Rodimus is feeling rather pleased with himself with the turnout. Drift strokes his ego a bit, because they support each other, but things are still weird because Drift doesn’t know who he is as a person anymore, and Rodimus has a guilty conscience mixed with being the Matrix’s golden child, which really fucks with a guy’s head.
Ultra Magnus goes through the list of the folks joining their quest, and starts running through all their demerits and crimes like it’s his job, because it is. We get a little peek into Magnus’ world view and then it’s back to the Whirl and Cyclonus show.
Also, Drift doens’t have a nose right now. He’ll get it back in time for the next issue, don’t worry.
Over with the flyboys, Cyclonus has decided to land and attempt to reason with Whirl. Not that he couldn’t totally kill Whirl if he wanted to.
He just doesn’t want to.
No, Cyclonus is far more concerned with his meeting with Rodimus, the one that he’s already friggin’ late for thanks to the detour he took checking that life signature. Whirl doesn’t care, far more worried about the fact that Cyclonus saw him talking to desecrated corpses and, far more importantly, vulnerable.
Look at this jackass’ ensemble- demon helmet, a crop top, a skirt and bellbottom pants. What an icon. He and Eugenesis Wheeljack should trade fashion tips.
Whirl still isn’t done with him, even after scraping him across the side of a mountain. Feeling especially artsy, he scoops Cyclonus up and jumps into the air, since he apparently has a hundred-foot vertical leap.
Back in the past, things aren’t going so well for Tailgate.
More cool panel stuff going on here- every time the panels have had rounded corners, it’s been when the scene takes place in the past. Now that the last panel has proper right angles to it, Tailgate’s in the present with everyone else. That middle panel probably covers a couple million years, at least. Poor guy.
Up on the surface, Ratchet’s met up with Chromedome and Rewind, and they’re all walking over to the launch site, Chromedome bitching all the while about how they’ve got to use their legs since Rewind’s alt-mode isn’t a vehicle, but a USB.
Chromedome seems to have forgotten that his tiny husband is small enough to probably just ride on top of his alt-mode, if not directly inside, most likely due to his larger-than-life personality.
Whirl and Cyclonus fall out of the sky before Chromedome can say something that’ll get his ass divorced. Cyclonus gets knocked out cold, having taken the brunt of the impact. Unfortunate, seeing as Whirl’s taking the time to make up lies about him.
You thought I was kidding when I said the armor was skimpy, but here we are, with a shot of Whirl’s battle thong.
Ratchet, who knows Whirl, because he knows everybody, tries to talk him out of straight up murdering Cyclonus. Whirl doesn’t like it when people try to talk him down, and is about to turn on the good doctor, when Tailgate enters the scene, by way of explosion.
Whirl doesn’t handle explosions terribly well. Probably why he was going to use one to kill himself.
With Whirl knocked out, Ratchet and the power couple pull Tailgate out of his hole, where he manages to ask about the launch before freaking the fuck out and fainting at the sight of a rather dead-looking Whirl. To be fair, I can’t think of a whole lot of folks who’d survive getting their tits blown off with enough force to clear a tunnel in solid rock.
You said it, Rewind.
Ratchet grabs Tailgate and Whirl and brings them onboard the ship, seeing as Tailgate seems to want to be there, and Whirl’s too dangerous to be out of sight. They just kinda leave Cyclonus on the ground. I doubt the two guys who were on Kimia last month really want to deal with him.
Rewind breaks off from the group to see his dealer. This dealer isn’t selling the good kush though. He’s got something far more incriminating to offer.
But we don’t get to find out what the fuck Rewind just bought from Swindle for a few more issues. Rest assured, it’s nothing good.
On the bridge, Rodimus is in his captain’s chair, ready to captain it up. The Lost Light raises into the air, as Bumblebee and Prowl watch on, about to exit the atmosphere and begin a adventure filled with hijinks and mild peril.
And that’s a series wrap on everyone! I hope you enjoyed this wonderful one-shot written by James Roberts.
What do you mean there’s 56 more issues?
Alright, let’s see where this goes.
Back on the bridge, there’s alarms and sirens out the wazoo, as things have pretty much immediately gone to shit. The quantum engine the Lost Light’s outfitted with apparently went off prematurely, rocketing them into a completely random quadrant of space.
Also, there’s a hole in the ship, and vacuum physics are doing their thing.
This series will not be kind to Rodimus.
The Lost Light touches down on the planet they popped back into existence over to start looking for all the guys who got sucked out of the ship. They don’t have to look long, seeing as they’re all burning up in the atmosphere.
Welcome to the Lost Light. It’s a friggin’ mess.
Back on Cybertron, the aftermath of the explosion is seen, as Bumblebee and Prowl listen to a message that seems to imply a lot more heartache in the future.
Prowl, you could at least pretend to give a shit.
That’s the end of the story, but not the end of the issue. In the back of the book, we get a welcome letter from James Roberts himself, thanking the reader for taking the time to read the beginning of MTMTE, and holy shit does he really try to sell it to you. This is a guy who wants you to be excited about the story that’s coming your way, because he’s excited about it. He’s a big dork who loves Transformers, and he gets to write about them for the next six years! That’s awesome.
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SUNLIT RIDDLE
I first learned about cosplay back in 2001 when I saw a beautiful Cloud crossplay. My brain lit up, I pointed excitedly, and shouted, “That! I want that!” Back then both the internet and cosplay as we know it today were in their infancy. The common construction methods we take for granted now were prohibitively expensive. Molding and casting were within the realm of trade professionals only. I learned how to sew the old fashioned way: my grandmother taught me quilting and my mother taught me clothing. But I had to teach myself a lot more once I had exhausted my mother and grandmother’s realm of practical sewing knowledge. I’d developed roots in the practical and grew into the fantastic. None of my costumes are built like something found in a theater. They’re all clothing.
I feel like the early 2000’s were a huge changing point in cosplay. What started as papier-mâché turned to fiberglass resin and to EVA foam as materials became more available. I was on the cutting edge of cosplay construction before life forced me into a half-decade hiatus. When I returned, things that were once outside of our financial reach were now commonplace. I can’t tell you how much I wanted a 3D printer back in 2008. Within just a decade, there are now affordable desktop models. Laser Cutters? Sublimation? All right here. It’s made that unattainable level of craftmastery available. For those who can’t afford the machines, there are commissioners who can do that for you. The way cosplay has developed as a hobby and business is astounding.
The skills I learned in cosplay, garment construction through building skit props, helped me get my current job. I am now a custom lettering artist – I put mascots on cheerleading uniforms and athletic wear. I learned how to vector while working on a background for a Soul Eater skit. Cosplay in general helped me refine my ability to read patterns and understand how sewing works. And, in turn, my job has further reinforced the skills I already have. I have a better understanding of pattern construction and fabric types. I’ve always had to modify patterns – something my mom taught me to do – but I’ve progressed to drafting up my own patterns from measurements based on historic garments.
My long time friends asked me to join their Adventure Zone group as Taako. It was a challenge, considering there are no official character designs. I had to go off the descriptions within the podcast, which were basically just the existence of items. Fact: Taako has a hat, a wand, a couple of spell books, etc. Beyond that, there was little detail.
The challenge was to create a silhouette that’s readable with or without key items. Taako’s signature item is an umbrella known as the Umbra Staff. The only description we receive within the entirety of the podcast is that it’s utterly normal looking. Considering that it is found next to a skeleton in a red robe, I felt the color needed to be red. However, since this item was found on a corpse in a cave, it was not bound to Taako’s personal style. In fact, I wanted it to be as separate from him as possible.
I put on my researching hat. I looked up fanart of Taako, elves, wizards, fantasy garb, Final Fantasy garb, historic garb; I listened to the source material; I listened to other McElroy podcasts; I discussed options with my team and other friends. I came across the “official” Cut and Sew Taako pattern, but I wanted a Final Fantasy vibe to this since it’s heavily referenced in the podcast.
In the final design, I kept the blouse and pauldron concept from Cut and Sew, but I changed the pauldron base to a slightly modified Evil Ted’s Vampire Hunter (because Yoshitaka Amano did the art for both Vampire Hunter D and Final Fantasy). I used Reconstructing History’s 1770’s-1790s Fall-Front Breeches pattern because I wanted something that would come to my knee and show off the Black Mage striped stockings. Keeping with the Amano Final Fantasy look, I made a sash to match the stockings, then layered with what we affectionately call my “fantasy fanny pack”.
The hat was my crowning achievement. I knew that there were ways of making big, dramatic hats – Kentucky Derby, the Royal Family, Old Hollywood glamour – but I found little in the way of tutorials. It reminded me a lot of the old days when cosplay research was accessible only for professionals in the industry. I deconstructed a witch’s hat from Party City to see how it was made, then reverse engineered it from there. The flowers in the hat were fun to collect. I wanted to keep with Taako’s culinary backstory, so all the flowers are edible – roses, chamomile, lavender, chives, and borage. I started trying to stitch them into place, but I soon started to just pin them into the brim. I’m pretty sure that’s how flower arrangements are supposed to be done, anyway. I’m still trying to figure out how to attach my artichoke.
I designed the pauldron to be a fabric with stripes and trim that had little triangles in it to continue with the Amano Final Fantasy feel. I attempted a “corset” technique where yarn is used instead of steel for boning. That worked perfectly and left a subtle stripe on the pauldron. There was no trim out there that fit what I wanted, so I built a loom and did some simple inkle weaving. I’m not skilled enough at weaving to make little triangles as originally planned, but I could do small stripes. I had enough materials to trim the top of the pauldron only, so I purchased black tassels for the bottom edge – inspired by Final Fantasy XIV’s newly announced Blue Mage’s pauldrons.
I feel that this costume is somewhat more like Ren Faire garb than it is an anime convention cosplay. It’s the sort of costume that grows over time, that will change and evolve and level up every time I wear it. I’m already back at it, researching new skills and methods to add embellishments or structure or just that Certain Something that will enhance Taako, or at least how I see him.
(Top : 2018 / Bottom 2009)
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Chiaroscuro, Chapter 3: Reconnaissance
It’s been a while but we’re still at it! Here’s the third chapter of my RP with @grumpyoldsnake / @justashadetalkative ! For this chapter art, @grumpyoldsnake did the sketch/composition and character lines/flats, while I did the background, shading, and effects. I also did the two other pieces in here.
The streamlined, edited version is on AO3 here.
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Elk, Wiki, Linast, and Phosa finally see what they’re up against.
Words: 5385
Characters: Elk and Wiki (mine), Linast and Phosa ( @justashadetalkative )
Indented is me, regular is @justashadetalkative
Dashes are POV shifts.
As per usual, Elk guided them expertly through the caverns and back into Greenpath. Hardly a husk noticed them as they went by, even with Phosa's dim glow.
Phosa. An interesting entity, as well - very different in mannerism from her sibling. Perhaps not surprising, given the polarity of their compositions.
And what interesting compositions indeed! Light and darkness. Yet not quite the pale light of soul, or the brilliance of the Old Light. And Linast's darkness was not the same void as they.
Ah, their mind has wandered once more. Already, they approach the area of the rifts.
"We're almost there," Elk called quietly.
“All right,” Phosa replied quietly, staying close behind them. She dimmed still further as the sounds of activity began to reach the group from the cavern ahead, her expression going grim.
Soon they’d drawn close enough to see a stark yellow light shining through the foliage ahead. Carefully, Phosa pushed forward to join the pair and slowly shifted a frond of greenery just far enough to give them a view of the rift area.
The rifts were larger now. One had expanded down to the ground, forming a doorway large enough to fit several people side by side; the others remained as slightly smaller tears in space. They opened into some hazy place that was too brightly lit to focus on; what little could be seen was surreal, seeming to pull and twist without actually moving.
The rift beings seemed to be hunting. Slain husks and Greenpath creatures had been piled haphazardly nearby, orange fluid leaking out across the floor. As the group watched, a group of three rift beings much like the one that had pursued Elk and Linast at the beginning of all this dragged in yet another bug to add to the pile, then departed again. A singular rift being in intricate robes circled slowly around the pile, tracing out glowing sigils in an ever widening arc. Other rift beings roamed the cavern, some apparently on guard, others setting up a sort of camp and talking cheerfully amongst themselves as they carried supplies through the central rift.
Phosa’s expression was tight as she let the greenery fall back into place. “...that is... a pretty big mess,” she whispered. “Shit.”
Wiki's stability within Elk quivered as they observed the the scene, motes and tendrils flicking out. Elk was suddenly anxious as well, taking a few steps back.
Wiki flicked out a tendril, laying it on Phosa's shoulder and giving a questioning prod for entry into her mind. They sensed her surprise, but quick assent. Forgive my intrusion. I don't wish to be overheard.
They could feel both their own and Elk's uneasiness bleeding into the bridge, but they supposed it couldn't be helped. It looks like they're killing and gathering the husks. Yet... I can't help but feel uneasy. I somehow doubt they'll stop at the ones already half-dead. Not to mention, those sigils... What are they for...?
Elk's mental presence echoed their sentiment. It was a much softer presence than theirs - very accommodating towards other entities in their mind. I don't think that they're any good news for Hallownest. Or- this dimension, maybe, if their intent is... larger scale......
I think you’re right, Phosa agreed. On all fronts. I don’t know what the sigils are but... considering corpses seem to be a primary component, I doubt it’s anything good.
Her thoughts flickered rapidly as she compared these beings to similar prior experiences. She seemed to be doing her best to call Wiki’s attention to the relevant ones.
This wasn’t the first time otherworldly beings had interrupted teleportation to and from the Spire, though it wasn’t common, either. ‘Vector wyrms’ seemed to be the most common culprit; they were simple creatures that fed off of the energy of teleportation spells, destabilizing the spell in the process. Hostile individuals had managed it a time or two, but they had usually been specifically searching for the Spire.
And there had once been a realm breach vaguely similar to these rifts in space, though it had been on a much larger scale. The edges of the Spire’s dimension had spilled into some vast, hungering darkness, lit by occasional sparks of lightning. Only Dalgiroth’s intervention and a lot of panicked work on the part of the spellcasters in the Spire had managed to pull them back from that particular incident. At least these rifts seem... stable...? Phosa didn’t seem reassured.
Wiki's thoughts churned as they observed Phosa's. They weren't reassured either.
There are way too many of them for us to confront... I doubt trying to fight them directly would turn out well. Elk gave a mental shudder.
If we could... seal the rifts, somehow. We could cut them off from their base of operations, before they establish themselves here… Rapid thoughts flickered across their mind - old magic, runes, seals, dreams, weavers-
Ah. There is another kingdom by the depths of Hallownest. Deepnest, the land of the Weavers. They are, or were, perhaps, rumored to weave intricate spells. Perhaps we could attempt to learn their magic to seal the rifts.
It's worth a shot. Phosa went distant and unfocused for a moment, her body wavering as she felt through the cavern. It wasn't quite sight, but she seemed to be able to get a general idea of the creature's locations and movements.
...If it worked, we could be sure they wouldn't get reinforcements, and we'd have enough time to be careful about it. If we could pick them off like that, I do think Linast and I could take the ones that are already here, she decided, refocusing. Especially once we're at full strength again.
Phosa looked at them with a serious expression. How long of a journey is it?
Their mind flashed with scenery, flying through various areas - a mental map coalescing in their mind. What would be the best way?
In moments, they traced a path in their mental map. Yes, the best option is most likely... They guided their mental image in a rapid journey, passing through Fog Canyon, the Queen's Station, the Fungal Wastes, before bringing them to a chasm of darkness. Deepnest.
It shall be a bit of a journey. Fog Canyon is dangerous, but not in the usual sense. We can guide you through safely - we are very familiar with it. It's where we met. Elk gave a nod at that.
Deepnest... it is a realm of darkness, we suppose. And not for the faint of heart. Images of parasitized husks and bugs tunneling dirtcarvers flickered across their mind. The Weavers' Den is said to be deep within the kingdom. We'll have to do a bit of exploring.
Phosa leaned forward as if to listen closer, not that it would make much difference. That does seem like quite a ways, she agreed. And those are... certainly some interesting creatures, there in Deepnest. But it seems you know the way pretty well.
She sat back again, smiling weakly. If nothing else, it will be interesting to see where you two met. And Linast is always up for some exploration. I’m sure we’ll manage to find something.
That is indeed the hope. Wiki retreated from the mental bridge, and Elk quietly stepped away from the scene of the rifts, looking around a bit before spotting the path to Fog Canyon. They waved a hand at Phosa, indicating that she follow.
Phosa obediently rose to follow them, picking her way carefully through the foliage. She seemed on higher alert than she had been before observing the rifts, her attention focused as much on their surroundings and on checking for pursuit from behind them as it was focused on following Wiki and Elk.
Soon, the air around them seemed to shift - thicker, almost fluid, and charged with an electrical energy. The bubbles particular to the Canyon began to populate their surroundings, soon giving way to the more hazardous ones, as well.
They paused a moment, warning Phosa: "Don't touch any of the bubbles with nuclei. They'll explode. Same for the larger jellyfish, though you have a chance to avoid them." They peered down the path. "Follow us closely - no harm will come to you here if you know how to avoid everything."
Wiki and Elk were both focused on plotting their pathway through the canyon, so neither were the first to notice, when a group of the creatures emerged from the undergrowth.
Phosa eyed the bubbles warily. “Noted. No touching,” she echoed, picking her way past the ones they’d pointed out to her. She looked up again once she was past them, though, returning to keeping a careful watch on their surroundings, and when the creatures stepped out she froze immediately.
Her warning hand on Elk’s shoulder might have served as warning or might have largely been a distraction, but their situation became clear enough as the quadrupedal creatures at the head of the hunting party spotted them and let out excited cries.
“Shit. Run, I’ll be right behind you—“ Phosa hissed, taking a half step in front of the pair. A blinding wave of light flew forward along the path and collided with the quadrupedal creatures as they started to rush forward. It threw them back to collapse in a heap atop the bipedal creatures behind them, clearing the way to the canyon—for a few moments, at least.
"Ah, Void-" they extended a number of tendrils from Elk and they rapidly scaled the walls of the canyon. Wiki frequently cast their awareness back to make sure Phosa followed - they chose a path relatively easy to navigate, but that meant the creatures were quick gaining on them.
Elk- we need-
A faster path, I know-
One of the creatures came close enough to leap at Phosa - they wrapped a tendril around her and pulled her out of the way, just in time to escape the explosion caused by the creature impacting a nucleated bubble. It let out a pained cry as Elk pulled them away from the blast zone. But the rest of the creatures were undeterred, perhaps more careful now that they were aware of the hazards.
They set Phosa down, but kept the tendril in contact as they continued their escape. Phosa, we're going to change our destination a bit. There's a passage we know by heart, and we might be able to shake them by taking it. It's a slight detour, but-
Phosa had kept up fairly well, right on their heels and nearly mirroring their exact steps at times, though every once in a while they'd leap for a ledge she clearly hadn't expected them to and she'd fall behind for a few moments as she readjusted.
She stumbled a step as they set her down and then caught her rhythm again. She reached up to grip their tendril with one hand, making sure that the contact didn't get interrupted.
Getting there at all sounds good to me, however many detours it takes, she replied. I tried to burn those things when they first showed up but it hardly did anything, shaking them's probably our best shot.
Elk cursed in their joined minds - so they were resilient and relentless.
Despite the situation, Wiki felt a bit of amusement Elk's choice of words - giving a mental nudge equivalent to saying language- but the moment washed away quickly as they noticed the creatures gaining on them once more.
We'll do our best. Actually, we might be able to… Letting Elk take care of the navigation, Wiki considered their options. They sent Phosa an image of a cluster of Ooma - a large group typically lingered near where they were going. The Ooma are normally passive, but if their outer body is damaged, the volatile core will immediately fly towards the attacker. They will unleash a powerful explosion on impact.
Elk continued the thought: We might be able to do a little... misdirection. With enough of them, I doubt even these things will be unfazed? Though obviously it'll be pretty dangerous, we're handling explosives after all-
Phosa can do it. It seemed that Linast had woken again. Though with the current pace they were keeping and the explosion earlier, it wasn't surprising. It's a good idea. I can take our core, or you two can carry us, and she can drop back to where the rift people are and attack the Ooma from their direction.
Phosa assented, her mind quickly flicking through the necessary maneuver. She didn't seem concerned about the possibility of getting caught in the blast herself. They yelped at the explosion earlier. The light and heat might not do much but I'm betting the concussive force will. Solid folk tend to squish.
Wiki gave a mental equivalent of a snort. You have a point.
Linast, good to see that you're awake. Your plan sounds very efficient. Though…
Will you two be alright? So long as your core is fine? Wiki could feel the concern emanating from Elk. Mirrored in their own self, though perhaps not as intensely.
Yes, and will you need a moment to form and split off? We'd probably be fine distracting them a moment if so.
We’ll be safe from the Ooma, yes.
The light from the explosions might be painful for me, if I’m in line of sight of them, Linast added. But that’s all. It doesn’t actually do me any harm, it’s just—tiring. The concept of ‘tired’ had a heavier mental weight to it than the word itself might suggest.
Guess we’ll find out for the rest. We don’t know what the creatures can do at close range. But they’d have to have some pretty specific abilities to be able to hurt me, and I don’t plan to linger.
Are you sure you could distract them safely? Linast seemed distinctly concerned at the risk, trying to think through alternative options. We won’t need long, I can teleport our core now that we’re healed, but it’ll take me a second to get my feet under me.
Wiki sent them a mental map of the area - there was an open area a little further, where the Ooma swarmed - and just beyond that stood the immense facility of the Archives.
We'll be alright. Good luck. They retracted their tendril. "We'll lead them off!"
“Meet you on the other side!” Phosa returned. Their core unspooled in ribbons of red and then into nothing at all, and moments later Phosa disappeared as well, flickering out of view like she’d never been there to begin with.
-
As Linast reclaimed their core, Phosa released her concentration on her form and turned her awareness outwards. The creatures were closer behind than she liked, but hopefully she was about to fix that.
Phosa located the Ooma that Wiki had described, glowing cores of orange at their centers making them stand out readily in her awareness. She should be able to target quite a few of them at once, especially since the creatures were even easier for her to feel than the Ooma nuclei.
Phosa lined up the shots, tracing a mental trajectory between each creature and a few Ooma each, then hesitated. She’d lost track of Elk and Wiki in the shuffle, antithetical as their bodies were to her magic. Were they out of the bloom yet? She refocused, looking for the small splotch of void that would mark Elk in her awareness.
It took a moment to pinpoint them - they weren't nearly as far as she'd expect, their emptiness still in the midst of the swarm of lights.
Their splotch expanded and contracted as they extended tendrils to vault themselves over and around the terrain, until it suddenly faltered and stopped.
That was most definitely not out of the bloom. Phosa didn't want to lose track of her sense of the creatures and Ooma, and she didn't want to distract Elk and Wiki at a bad time. But she focused in to take a look at what was going on, hoping to see what had gone wrong.
One of the creatures had managed to nick Elk's leg, causing them to trip. But they were still only for a moment, as tendrils suddenly burst from their body - a blur of motion followed by a yelp from the offending creature.
Elk was hunched over, the tendrils having pulled them back a bit. One tendril hung in the air, wielding some kind of weapon, stained with a liquid light.
The creature that was struck got up, a shallow gash on its face leaking the same fluid. It joined the rest of its pack, crouched a distance away from them - coiled energy about to strike.
Elk suddenly snapped their gaze to Phosa. The tendrils jerkily gestured to the Ooma, as if telling her, Do it now, now-
Phosa hesitated for an instant, the small sphere of light she’d formed to take a look at the situation flickering with stress. They had at least a bit of distance between themselves and the creatures, but it really wasn’t as much distance as she’d hoped. And they were still in the Ooma field. Would it set off a chain reaction, would they have time to get out—?
But Phosa was used to following instructions in combat situations, and Elk and Wiki were far more familiar with the Ooma than she was. An instant was all it took for her to shove her hesitance aside and refocus her attention, turning back to the creatures.
One, two—three. And more than enough Ooma for each. She lashed out from each creature’s position simultaneously, sending out narrow lances of heat and light that were about as close to laser focus as she could manage at such short notice.
As soon as the lances made contact, the soft outer layer of the Ooma burst. The cores were suspended in the air for just a moment, a moment of calm - before they descended upon the creatures.
Elk and Wiki just managed to leap out of the initial blast, ducking behind an outcropping. But as the creatures were caught in the blast, the explosion of heat and light reverberating through the air, they lashed out. The pops of Oomas' outer layers seemed loud in the gap between the first explosion - and the ones thereafter. It seemed as if a chain of at least ten of them were set off, brightness overshadowing the light of anything in the midst of the explosions.
When they finally stopped, the creatures were scattered on the canyon floor, weakly trying to get up. Elk and Wiki were out of Phosa's direct line of sight, but-
A trail of darkness was forming from a ways off from the scene, dripping from an amorphous spot of emptiness as it slowly moved further down the path.
Phosa had tried to keep track of Elk and Wiki through all of the explosions, in the hopes of intercepting the worst of the blasts if she could. But the light of the explosions was so much stronger in her awareness, and the pair blended into their surroundings—indistinguishable from flying debris and the dark interior of the cavern’s floor.
She cursed heartily as she spied the creatures still alive, forming in an amorphous shape and giving them a hard, merciless shove back to the ground. She honestly wasn’t paying much attention as she did so, though, casting about the cavern in search of her allies. She couldn’t burn the creatures, and she’d never been as good as Linast at physical force or cutting edges, and—there.
That was probably Elk, or Wiki, or both; it certainly wasn’t Linast. Stars they seemed in bad shape, though.
Phosa hurriedly formed near them, glancing over their wounds with a wince. At least they were upright. Sort of. “Hey,” she muttered, hovering uncertainly, her hands raised to offer support but not sure if it’d be welcome. “Hey, shit. I’m sorry, that got way more hectic than I expected, lost track of you for a few. Can I touch you? We need to get out of here—they’re not quite dead...”
They twitched, gooey tendrils flicking out. "Phosa...?" came out in a distorted warble. They shifted their head to look at her. "We'll... be alright once Elk wakes up and is able to focus. They're unconscious, they took the worst of it."
They curled their tendrils. "We were close, but- nnh. We got a direct hit from one at the very end. And Elk's shell has never- been very strong."
They glanced back to where the creatures were. "Sorry, we- panicked for a moment back there. Sorry. We thought we could make it." They looked back up to her. "We can't move that well right now... If you could give us a hand, that would... be appreciated. You can touch us, but it may be better for you to avoid our unstable Void. The cloak... should be fine."
“Yeah, that’s—I probably shouldn’t try touching that stuff right now,” Phosa agreed, looking them over. They seemed to be bleeding Void, and floating motes rose from their body as well. But if the cloak worked as a barrier, she could probably manage this; it was close enough to full length.
Phosa sent a wary glance back towards the creatures, which were still struggling to stand, then crouched down. She carefully tugged their cloak forward, wrapping it more securely about them. “I’m just going to pick you up, okay?”
They nodded as she wrapped the cloak around them, the texture under the cloak almost fluid, before it met enough resistance for it to seem solid.
They twitched suddenly, lifting their head a bit. "W... wait. Would it... be possible to capture one of the creatures? We might be able to find out something... now's... a good chance. They're weakened-"
“So are we,” Phosa returned, a bit more sharply than she’d meant to. She finished with the cloak, gently scooped them up, and held them close to her chest as she turned to check on the creatures’ progress.
She watched as a quadrupedal creature nudged at the bipedal one—which hadn’t yet managed to regain its feet—and let out a slow, conflicted hiss.
The problem was that Wiki was right. If the things were this resilient, this may well be their best chance at capturing one safely. Especially if they were going to keep running into them like this, unprepared and far from full strength.
“...I’m not taking you back in there,” Phosa said, slowly. Then, her conviction growing, she added, “And I’m not leaving you here undefended while I try to subdue three of them at once to make it safe enough to approach. We’ll meet back up with Linast. Then I’ll come back on my own and see if I can capture one.”
"...Nnh." They seemed wrought with tension, before they slumped as it drained from them. "I'm in no position to argue."
"We'll be safe in the Archives. We can rest there.... we know all the places to hide...." They slightly turned their head in the direction of her face. "Just... be careful..."
Phosa relaxed a bit as the tension drained from them, and readjusted her grip to keep them from slipping. “I always am,” she said. “Which is why we’re not staying here when Elk’s unconscious and you hardly seem much better off.”
Phosa set off at as smooth a run as she could manage, keeping a sharp eye out for any remnant Ooma or nucleated bubbles. She didn’t want to aggravate their injuries, but she was also intent on getting them out of the way as quickly as possible. She would need to get back before the creatures recovered much further.
It wasn't long until they emerged from a passageway into a large cavern. Ooma floated aimlessly around the expansive space, hovering around a sprawling complex of bronze metal and glass windows that glowed with the same green as the acid lake it was built upon.
Wiki was silent and motionless until they had arrived; as soon as they came into sight of the building, they shifted their gaze to it. "We can go in through the main entrance. No one really alive... stays here." They shifted again, looking around. "Is Linast here already...?"
Phosa frowned a bit, finding their specification of 'really alive' a bit ominous. She set her reservations aside and nodded as they asked after Linast, though, and glanced around for him herself. "Yeah, I can feel us--there he is."
Linast finished his teleportation in from whatever recessed corner of the passageway he’d found, and fell in beside her as she started towards the Archive's entrance. He stared at Elk and Wiki, looking a bit horrified. "Phosa, what--?"
"We fucked up," Phosa interrupted. She caught a cold blankness settling into his expression, and when he began to turn back the way they'd come she reached out with a formless limb to tug him back towards her by the core. His form flickered unsteadily against her light even as he pushed her away with a petulant hiss. "We fucked up, Linast. Don't even think about it. We can't afford more mistakes right now and you have been active way too long."
Linast subsided reluctantly, his attention drifting back towards Wiki. He started to reach towards them, then seemed to have second thoughts and tucked his hand back in against his chest. "Are you two okay..?" he asked, hesitant. "I mean--stable, or... is there anything we can do to help?"
They'd curled into themselves at Phosa's words, as if contrite. "We'll be... fine. Once Elk wakes up. They- they have an ability to heal themself using soul - we still have a lot we absorbed in the spring. I'm just... holding us together until then. Just need to rest for a bit..."
They turned Elk's head to Linast. "Active too long...? Are you alright-hnm." They flinched as more void dripped from the crack in their shell. "Let's- we should get inside- then we can all rest. I can show you where to go."
"Best to get out of sight," Phosa agreed quietly, shifting her hand away from the fresh drip of void before it could make contact. As she approached the entrance to the Archive, she exchanged a brief glance with Linast. He looked painfully worried, and she couldn't quite disagree with him.
Wiki said they'd be fine, and she'd gathered that they weren't exactly your typical biological beings. But they were... oozing quite a lot, and she was used to head wounds and unconsciousness being direly serious, in most physical creatures. 'Holding us together' was equally concerning. It was hard to reconcile all of that with 'fine,' or with a certainty that Elk would wake.
Nothing for it right now, though. As during all the rest of this nonsense, she'd just have to trust them. She nodded Linast towards the door, and he slipped through. He returned a moment later to gesture her in, apparently deeming it safe. She entered and took a look at their new surroundings. "Alright. Where are we heading?"
They took a second to respond - "Down the hallway, second left. There's a hidden door in the room there, you can take the steps to reach the second floor atrium. There are windows to the outside, so we'll be able to see if anything's coming..."
They shifted. "Oh, and... don't worry Uoma, the smaller jellies. They just... linger. Even if they hardly remember why they're here..."
“Okay,” Linast said. He set off ahead down the path they had indicated, continuing the practice of walking ahead of her and keeping an eye out for potential threats. It wasn’t their normal procedure, but then Phosa wasn’t normally the one carrying something vulnerable.
He’d already been looking wan and faintly shaky around the edges outside of the Archive. Phosa frowned as that was replaced with an entirely different sort of shakiness, her sibling twitching at every fresh flash from a nearby Uoma. She couldn’t see his expression from behind, but she could see that their core had disappeared beneath shadows much deeper than Linast would normally bother with even when he wasn’t overtired.
“Are the Uoma safe to touch?” she asked Wiki, as she paused outside the first room they’d described while Linast checked it. “Or are they explosive or aggressive, too?”
They hummed. "I wouldn't recommend touching them, as they can give an electrical discharge. The young ones," they gestured to the small green jellies wiggling about, "are harmless, however. And luckily, they are not explosive. At the slightest damage, they will perish."
"They, with the Ooma... helped keep the Archives running, back then..." They fell silent.
"Yeah, I can... see that." Nice to know they were easy to dispatch and harmless if unbothered, at least. Phosa might... try to shuffle them to other parts of the Archives, if there were any in the atrium. She doubted Linast would agree to rest with them anywhere nearby, and she didn't particularly relish the prospect, herself.
Phosa frowned as Wiki trailed off, and gently thumbed their shoulder beneath their cloak. "Hey. You still with us?" Normally she wouldn't keep bothering them, but... 'holding us together'. She wasn't sure it was entirely safe for Wiki to drift off, right now.
"Mmm..." That was some response, at least. "Still awake. Just... concentrating on.. mm. Might go under for a bit after Elk wakes up... They're... starting to come around. Won't be long, now..."
"Alright. I'm glad to hear it." Phosa looked up as Linast returned and gestured her into the room.
"I found the door," he said, pointing it out to her with a shaky gesture as she entered. "It was closed sso it's—mostly empty up there, at least. "
Phosa started up the stairs, listening as Linast closed the hidden door behind them and started up after her. "I'm going to head back and see if I can safely capture one of the injured creatures," she told him, as they entered the atrium and she began to look around for a good spot to set Elk and Wiki down. "Hopefully they haven't gotten too far. I want you to stay here with them, Wiki says Elk's starting to come around."
The atrium was a large circular room, an array of windows on either side, purple glow of the canyons filtering in. The room had a number of lamps filled with, presumably, acid - emitting a soft, diffuse glow - in between the windows, hanging from the walls. A long bench followed the wall, in addition to the circular ones surrounding an insignia that looked a lot like Wiki's likeness in the middle of the room. A winding staircase went up the side of the room to another platform, which was connected to other platforms by stairways crossing the room. A few of the smaller Uoma milled about aimlessly.
"... This was used as a research area, in the past... They'd call out to each other across the room. The stairs were mostly for the benefit of the bugs that couldn't float."
"There used to be more ways to access it, but they began sealing entrances when the Infection began. The researchers wanted to focus on their work. Or perhaps it was in fear of those already infected..." Wiki sighed, and waved a tendril in the direction of the central benches. "We can sit here."
“I’m going to need one of you to explain this Infection business to me at some point.” Phosa finished looking around and moved into the room to lay Elk’s unconscious form down on one of the benches Wiki had indicated.
She straightened up again afterwards and took a moment to look and feel around the room one last time, checking the entrances, making sure there weren’t any of the adult Uoma hidden in back corners. She knew Linast had already checked, but...
“It’s fine,” Linast muttered, patting her shoulder as he brushed past her to sit next to Elk and Wiki. “Go—get one of the rift folk before we lose track of them, and make sure none of the others were around to follow us. I’ll get your attention if s-ssomething goes wrong.”
“...Okay. I’ll try to be quick.” Without giving herself any more time to hesitate, Phosa let her body fade and turned her attention to finding the creatures they’d left behind.
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Kyuss Spawnling
Art by Eva Widermann, © Paizo Publishing. Accessed at the Dungeon 126 Map and Handout Supplement here
[Encounter at Blackwall Keep was one of the lesser adventures in the Age of Worms, primarily because of balance issues. Sean K. Reynolds, the author, thought that 5th level PCs are much more fragile than they are in actual 3.x D&D. See the initial encounter, where a battle with thirty lizardfolk is presented as “unwinnable” unless the PCs do something to split them up and fight them in waves. This despite that being the level where fireball becomes available, and them traveling with a wizard NPC who has it prepared. So it’s not a surprise that this adventure has the lowest CR original monster in all of Age of Worms, and it acts more like a plot device in the module than an actual opponent.]
Kyuss Spawnling
This awful little thing resembles a juvenile of a reptilian humanoid, its head overlarge and flecks of eggshell still sticking to its body. Worms writhe in and out of its empty eye sockets and coil through its mouth.
The cult of Kyuss has developed many ways to spread the contagion of undeath and usher in the Age of Worms. The Kyuss spawnling is one such tool. They were designed to circumvent the issue of lizardfolk and other humanoids with too tough of skin for Kyuss worms to burrow into them naturally. Kyuss spawnlings spread death with their poisonous bites, and then infest the corpses they make with worms to create more powerful spawn. Thus, even a single Kyuss spawnling can be the vector for the creation of a new army of monsters.
Kyuss spawnlings are barely sapient, and are rarely found outside of the care of the cult of Kyuss or on their missions of death. Spawn of Kyuss are somewhat fond of the little brutes, and may carry them along. Cults of Kyuss composed of those too weak to create the undead themselves may rely on a clutch of Kyuss spawnlings to do the work for them, but the spawn they create may easily escape the cult’s control and convert the entire enterprise into a shambling undead horde.
A Kyuss spawnling is barely a foot long, half of that length being tail.
Kyuss Spawnling CR 1
XP 400
CE Tiny undead (wormtouched)
Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +4
Defense
AC 17, touch 16, flat-footed 13 (+2 size, +4 Dex, +1 natural)
hp 9 (2d8)
Fort +0, Ref +4, Will +3
DR 2/silver; Defensive Abilities undead traits
Weakness vulnerable to remove disease
Offense
Speed 20 ft., swim 30 ft.
Melee bite +7 (1d3-3 plus poison)
Space 2 ½ ft.; Reach 0 ft.
Special Attacks create spawn
Statistics
Str 4, Dex 18, Con -, Int 4, Wis 11, Cha 11
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 9
Feats Weapon Finesse
Skills Perception +4, Stealth +20, Swim +5
Languages Common (cannot speak)
Ecology
Environment any land or underground
Organization solitary, pair or clutch (3-20)
Treasure none
Special Abilities
Create Spawn (Su) Three times per day, a Kyuss spawnling can touch a humanoid corpse and infest it with worms as a full round action. The corpse then animates as a free-willed spawn of Kyuss in 1d6+4 rounds.
Poison (Ex) Bite—injury; save Fort DC 11; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; effect 1d3 Con; cure 1 save. The save DC is Constitution based.
Vulnerable to Remove Disease (Ex) A Kyuss spawnling targeted by a remove disease spell or similar effect is slain if the caster succeeds at a caster level check (DC = 10+ HD of the Kyuss spawnling).
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I can see Vector studying biology after school and after that opening a taxidermy shop ^^
!!! I think he’d have fun in the art of it, and would probably specialize in arranging funny/dramatic scenes Tho I feel like he wouldn’t like having all those glassy eyes around him after dark— I HC he’s actually afraid of any sort of undead/corpses, animal or not
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Dev Blog Week 6
30/08 - 5/09
This week was the final full week we got to code and add mechanics to the game. We worked mainly on bugfixing, mechanics, UI and marketing materials. Lewis has added the final mechanic to the game before PGF and we are now working on streamlining the gameplay experience with a wave system, bugfixing and finalising the marketing material for PGF.
A short summary of what each team member did this week:
Kris (Producer & Marketing)
For the sixth week of production, my concentration was on making visual UI for the newly introduced game mechanic – special body preparation. This included making vector UI for the mini-game and the pop-up UI for the boat where the body needs to be put on. Prior to this, last week I have given my team several placement and design suggestions to choose from, this week concentrating on finalizing the chosen designs. On the second part of the week, my job was based around marketing. I created the illustration and designs for the post-card, basing them on a medieval painting to create a historical link. This illustration was done in Photoshop and has varying designs for front and back. This design will be going into printing early next week for preparation of PGF.
Nathan (Design Lead)
This week was spent again implementing the UI elements provided to me by Kris. I went about setting up the UI for both the body scrubbing minigame, the boat man requests, as well as the tutorial instructions which appear at the start of the round. I had the challenge of lining up the UI canvasses with the 3D assets on screen which was especially hard for the boatman since it has particular animations it plays. For this week leading up to PGF i am going to polish the existing UI with animations and reformatting some screens to Lewis' request
Evie (Art Lead & Marketing)
This week I made some additional basemap textures for our dead body models to line up with the cleaning the body on the prep table mechanic. I created 'dirty' versions of each model by opening the texture then adding a layer where I painted some dirt onto them. This is so that the bodies can change state when they go from dirty to clean while using the prep table. I also created and textured a bucket prop to go with this mechanic, to give players an idea of what they're supposed to do at the prep table.
Lewis (Tech Lead)
This week I implemented the code for the minigame, so special bodies can be cleaned with a progress bar that fills up when the player mashes the B button. I also coded a spawning system for the coffin boat, so that it intelligently spawns and moves into position when a body is placed on the prep table. Finally, I designed a complex corpse randomization system for the delivery cart, so that there are variations in the combination and number of each body type that gets delivered. Over the next few days, I will be implementing a wave system so that new corpse deliveries are triggered when there are only two bodies remaining, as well as fixing as many bugs as possible before making a final build for PGF on Saturday.
Teresa (Test Lead)
The rigging and animation for the boatman is probably one of the most difficult thing I have worked on so far. I had a lot of issues figuring out the proper way to constrain the oar to the boatman's hands without breaking the model. The boatman model had to be completely reworked with extra polycount to account for the rowing motion. The animation was an interesting challenge due to the fact that it needs to be synced to the boat animation done in unity. I had to set up a reference version of the boat in maya, constrain the boatman onto the boat to "match" the boat's idle and moving animation with his "rowing" motions. Once the animations were done, it was reimported into unity for a rig and animation check. At where it currently stands. I'm happy that the rig function as intended with minimal errors. But a revision on the animations is needed to fix the transition erros. I'll be busy handling playtesting with the team before the PGF on the 11th. Then I will be back to figure out how I can sync the boatman/boat animations at the same time.
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Hey y'all. Don't know if I mentioned but I felt a presence in my new apartment and been talking to someone who helps keep a song in my heart. Felt like it was my ego interfering when I felt like calling the presents Bruce. Cuz that's my dad's name. And then when I heard my neighbors talking about Bruce who died recently before I moved in I thought oh well I'm probably not in Bruce's apartment right. Cuz that would be a lot. And I'm a music person and a joy who's singing downstairs all the time so to hear that Bruce was a musical person who played instruments and sang in the lobby all the time is like whoa someone stepped off this plane to make room for me here. That would be a lot of synchronicity. And synchronicity is all well and good but organizations aware of synchronicity can do quite a bit to manufacture it for someone.
Well today I didn't feel anything or anyone. My dolls look like dead lifeless corpses and I was so brain dead that I just stood in my apartment and couldn't even think of where I would begin to look for the hard drive that this art is on that I'm ready to put on a shirt since Y2K.
And I kind of flipped out on my friends. That happens from time to time because my hexahedral God mind is a lot to manage and I don't know if you've looked around the world but there's a whole lot coming.
So I finally managed to get myself together and I was feeling pretty spun and just left the apartment hoping to feel better by getting out of the house you know. And I go downstairs in the mailman is just shut the big door that my mailbox is in and he sees I'm carrying a box and he compliments my shoes and just thinks I'm cool and offers to carry the box out to the recycling for me and so I let him and I take that cue from the universe to get my mail.
The nice mundane task of getting mail. Right?
NOPE hahaha fn naw bro
My mailbox is full to the brim with mail for Bruce E Levens. So not only folks am I in Bruce's apartment and the presents here is definitely Bruce and it's not me being crazy or fearful about my dad having died without my knowing it or anything like that. I just see dead people and I'm brain damaged so even though that's not new to me I react to it like it's news to me.
But on top of this I just received confirmation with some more mind fuckery sprinkled on top for good measure.
My dad, Bruce Lee's, birthday is November 11th which is 11/11. E Levens is elevens. You can't make this shit up!
and this freaks me out initially and I just fistful pack everything back into that mailbox and I shut it and I go out and I just spin out in the parking lot literally moving in circles in my power wheelchair before I go back in and I have to look at that mail again because I've already convinced myself that I didn't see what I saw and even as I'm reaching into the mailbox to get out the mail that says Bruce 11s I'm thinking I'm going to look at it again and it's going to be something close to what I mistook it for and nothing's going on here. But I pull the mail out and it says Bruce e Blevins and I have the mail with me in my hand the whole rest of my day because I need that to ground me.
The day was not over yet because my Transit service was late late late late late late late. It rerouted and it reassigned and it rerouted and it reassigned and then eventually it lands on 418 for my estimated time pick up.
and sure enough at 4:18 it arrives and it's my favorite driver. An old truck driver who retired and then needed something to wake up in the morning and go do with his life that was helping other people and he has great stories and his father is assault of the earth and he loves seeing me and he is so happy that I've moved here and I can bring joy into the lives of old people.
418 is my birthday April 18th.
Now I don't know how I'm going to feel about this tomorrow but right now I just feel like laughing about it and it's freaky and it's weird and I've known all my life that I am God and now I'm talking about it and I thinking maybe talking about it is making me beat it even more consistently then I used to.
But last night I felt pretty okay about everything in the world and went right to sleep after the Donnie Darko CD finally gave out in my system and I actually took out the CD which I never take out the skipping CD cuz I just don't have my mind about me and I don't know how to do basic things at all I'm absolutely a retard if you were observing me just absolutely retarded yo.
And I realize that I understand and have this opportunity to also set the time on my stereo system which I have not done for a decade and I look at the time and it's 8:32 32 is the number of the CD I'm holding in my hand and it has expired Donnie Darko is the movie that I wanted to see the day I got out of mental institution and my mother would not allow it because my boyfriend's name was Donnie and the day before I went wondering after I got my chore done and found myself speaking to my ex-boyfriend Donny's father for hours.
Now I don't know if it's heavenly Father or if the Illuminati has my back but someone does and it feels like I'm still moving up.
Like everything is coming to a head.
And my challenge which I accepted before incarnating on this planet in this density is to not lose my mind completely and become a non-functioning schizophrenic like the bat majority in my bloodline.
Oh and did you know the once upon a Time it wasn't planets that told you something about yourself that you needed to know concerning the month in which you were born, but demons. That's right the month you were born in is associated with a demonic presence that sabotages you for the entirety of your life.
Mine is belfigor. Belfigor gives humans great ideas and those get rich quick and easy schemes to lure them into the sin of sloth and of course luring into sin is just luring someone off of the path towards heaven and putting them on the path towards hell. And that's a very linear time frame perspective of that so when you remove that linear time frame from it when you do sinful things you are simply in hell and when you do angelic things you are simply in heaven.
So yeah I fully acknowledged in the way that I sort of have access and try to look away from future events a lot of the time because I have an omnipresence and omniscience that comes along with knowing that one is God. So in a way I knew that the friend I had who was helping me to edit my art into vector form for putting on merchandise was going to rape me. But yeah I fully got raped in order to get my art onto a t-shirt for me to wear and for me to gift to all of my friends and for you to buy.
But deeper than that this idea that I can be an artist and make money just being an artist is entirely represented as a potential future for me to look forward to and I have sat 100% ready to kill myself and the only thing stopping me was that I hadn't gotten that image onto a shirt yet.
Now I think you know well and good that I am not lazy and I am not Lord into sin because I go willingly with open eyes when I do and I don't linger long in hell, but I do sing and dance the entire time I'm there. And I hope you know by now that my trying to come up and make something of myself as an artist and my full intent to become a household name that makes everyone forget Lady Gaga is entirely fueled by my mission in life that I have had firmly since I was 6 years old.
The evolution of human consciousness. Evolution of human consciousness brings about world peace and ends suffering for all.
So I'm not even over here struggling and hustling for myself. And that's more true than ever now that I have all of my basic needs met. and I tell you I think that's what's making the difference.
The other thing making the difference is that the devil has tempted me many times with outlets and avenues that are not in alignment with highest good and are not benevolent collaborations and I have walked away from success and I have walked away from Fame and I have walked away from money over and over.
Cuz I tell you being a little girl at age 6 who knows she's God I just wanted to unknow more than anything and I wanted anything to prove me wrong so badly that everything that came before me and claimed to be above me, to be God, I stepped. I said prove I'm not God cuz one of us is mistaken and I'm still standing.
Creation is just making sure that I am who I say I am just like it should.
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Artcrime: What ‘Beware the Slenderman’ Says About Blaming Artists for Violence
There is no artist behind Slender Man, not in the panoptic, memetic form in which Morgan and Anissa encountered him. Slender Man’s “author” is the internet and the army of artists and writers and filmmakers and game designers who inhabit it. Only the accident of history, in which the original posts can be tracked down, enables us to put names to the faceless being at all. A few decades ago Slender Man would just be Bloody Mary or the killer with a hook for a hand who disrupts teenagers necking in their cars. A few centuries ago and he’d be the vampire a town feared enough to dig up graves and behead the corpses inside, or the witch who lures wayward children to their doom. With no artist in play, it becomes clear how fallacious it is to pin the blame on artists for the actions of disturbed individuals who consumed their art at all.
This is not to say art never affects society or inspires terrible things. When Jared Kushner crows about targeting ads for his odious father-in-law Donald Trump’s presidential campaign to viewers of The Walking Dead because of their concerns about immigration, he’s recognizing the fascist ideology that underlies both the show and the current administration. But art with an ideological vector connects the reader or viewer to a cohesive worldview, which, right or wrong, helps explain society and prescribe remedies for its ills. Action and reaction are to be expected.
That’s different from a movie about a pair of abused kids who become mass murderers and media superstars, or music by a glam-influenced Satanist, or creepy internet posts about a demon with no face. These merely provide monsters who embody fears and desires, not a political program. Those monsters will always exist in one form or another, and disturbed kids like Morgan and Anissa will always find them and use them as the mold into which they pour their crumbling sanity or mounting bloodlust. In blaming the art or the artist, we commit the exact same error, looking for a boogeyman to help us explain the inexplicable. We’re finding our own Slender Man to serve.
I wrote about the documentary Beware the Slenderman and when we should and shouldn’t hold artists to account for crimes inspired by their art for the New York Observer.
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A zombie (Haitian French: zombi, Haitian Creole: zonbi) is a mythological undead corporeal revenant created through the reanimation of a corpse. Zombies are most commonly found in horror and fantasy genre works. The term comes from Haitian folklore, in which a zombie is a dead body reanimated through various methods, most commonly magic like voodoo. Modern depictions of the reanimation of the dead do not involve magic but rather science fictional methods such as carriers, radiation, mental diseases, vectors, pathogens, parasites, scientific accidents, etc.[1][2]
The English word "zombie" was first recorded in 1819, in a history of Brazil by the poet Robert Southey, in the form of "zombi".[3] The Oxford English Dictionary gives the word's origin as West African and compares it to the Kongo words nzambi (god) and zumbi or nzumbi (fetish). Some authors also compare it to the Kongo word vumbi (mvumbi) (ghost, revenant, corpse that still retains the soul), (nvumbi) (body without a soul).[4][5] A Kimbundu-to-Portuguese dictionary from 1903 defines the related word nzumbi as soul,[6] while a later Kimbundu–Portuguese dictionary defines it as being a "spirit that is supposed to wander the earth to torment the living".[7] One of the first books to expose Western culture to the concept of the voodoo zombie was W. B. Seabrook's The Magic Island (1929), the sensationalized account of a narrator who encounters voodoo cults in Haiti and their resurrected thralls.
A new version of the zombie, distinct from that described in Haitian folklore, emerged in popular culture during the latter half of the 20th century. This interpretation of the zombie is drawn largely from George A. Romero's film Night of the Living Dead (1968),[1] which was partly inspired by Richard Matheson's novel I Am Legend (1954).[8][9] The word zombie is not used in Night of the Living Dead, but was applied later by fans.[10] After zombie films such as Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Michael Jackson's music video Thriller (1983), the genre waned for some years.
An evolution of the zombie archetype came with the video games Resident Evil and The House of the Dead in the late 1990s, with their more scientific and action-oriented approach and their introduction of fast-running zombies, leading to a resurgence of zombies in popular culture. These games were initially followed by a wave of low-budget Asian zombie films such as the zombie comedy Bio Zombie (1998) and action film Versus (2000), and then a new wave of popular Western zombie films in the early 2000s, including films featuring fast-running zombies such as 28 Days Later (2002), the Resident Evil and House of the Dead films, and the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake, as well as the British zombie comedy Shaun of the Dead (2004). The "zombie apocalypse" concept, in which the civilized world is brought low by a global zombie infestation, has since become a staple of modern popular art.
The late 2000s and 2010s saw the humanization and romanticization of the zombie archetype, with the zombies increasingly portrayed as friends and love interests for humans. Notable examples of the latter include movies Warm Bodies and Zombies, novels American Gods by Neil Gaiman, Generation Dead by Daniel Waters, and Bone Song by John Meaney, animated movie Corpse Bride, TV series Pushing Daisies and iZombie, and manga/novel/anime series Sankarea: Undying Love and Is This a Zombie? In this context, zombies are often seen as stand-ins for discriminated groups struggling for equality, and the human–zombie romantic relationship is interpreted as a metaphor for sexual liberation and taboo breaking (given that zombies are subject to wild desires and free from social conventions).[11][12][13][14]
Etymology
The English word "zombie" is first recorded in 1819, in a history of Brazil by the poet Robert Southey, in the form of "zombi", actually referring to the Afro-Brazilian rebel leader named Zumbi and the etymology of his name in "nzambi".[3] The Oxford English Dictionary gives the origin of the word as Central African and compares it to the Kongo words "nzambi" (god) and "zumbi" (fetish).
In Haitian folklore, a zombie (Haitian French: zombi, Haitian Creole: zonbi) is an animated corpse raised by magical means, such as witchcraft.[15]
The concept has been popularly associated with the religion of voodoo, but it plays no part in that faith's formal practices.
How the creatures in contemporary zombie films came to be called "zombies" is not fully clear. The film Night of the Living Dead made no spoken reference to its undead antagonists as "zombies", describing them instead as "ghouls" (though ghouls, which derive from Arabic folklore, are demons, not undead). Although George Romero used the term "ghoul" in his original scripts, in later interviews he used the term "zombie". The word "zombie" is used exclusively by Romero in his script for his sequel Dawn of the Dead (1978),[16] including once in dialog. According to George Romero, film critics were influential in associating the term "zombie" to his creatures, and especially the French magazine Cahiers du Cinéma. He eventually accepted this linkage, even though he remained convinced at the time that "zombies" corresponded to the undead slaves of Haitian voodoo as depicted in White Zombie with Bela Lugosi.[17]
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