handful of Prisma art from the last several sessions. our party has been through A Lot. we all had some character building trauma, got magical tattoos and Prisma respecced into a Divine Soul Sorcerer. gg
(Prisma is my Aasimar Sorcerer from a 5ed D&D session. they are non-binary and use they/them pronouns.)
Welp. Now I have random disorganized backstory stuff for Masquerade Macaw.
She actually went to high school with the superhero Cavalry, but moved to another state before graduation, so neither of them ever met until they were in their thirties
She has a retail job that she jokes is going to drive her to supervillainy one day.
Her roommate works with an animal rescue team and there tend to be weird “guests” recuperating in the guest room on a regular basis. The mongoose really hated her for some reason.
Avid videogamer
Absolutely did not mean to start the anonymous “heroes writing fanfic” group. Has no idea that the infamous Aquila is the one sending in the Star Trek ones that keep wrecking everybody’s feels.
Hey, everybody needs a hobby.
Someday – oh, that infamous “someday” – I should just knuckle down and write this. I think I can pull it off, I just might need to limit how many characters have large roles for the sake of my sanity.
Me reading dystopian fiction growing up and internalizing the message in the narrative: there’s no place for me in this world, I’d be dead the moment the regime took hold. I’m not strong enough. I couldn’t stand the suffering. Maybe the narrative is right. Maybe only the strong survive.
Me now as an adult getting ready to rip the pin from the grenade with my teeth and brandishing a molotov cocktail in the other hand: IF I GO DOWN I’M TAKING YOU MOTHER FUCKERS WITH ME, BRING IT ON IF YOU THINK YOUR HARD ENOUGH. YOU THINK YOU’RE SCARY? MY IMMUNE SYSTEM IS EATING ITSELF AND I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE. COME GET SOME
We used to talk about how we would survive a zombie apocalypse, in high school, and I had one friend that would go, “Well you won’t last that long anyways, so why should we plan for you?” and I would agree, because I didn’t realize how deep I had internalized the idea that my disability made me not worthy of survival.
Flash forward to college, when my new friends and I are having a very similar conversation and I go, “I won’t last, so I guess I would just feed myself to the zombies” and my friends had a very strong response of, “NO, we are going to rob pharmacies. We will all learn how to get insulin from pigs or bacteria. You are not going down easy, you are too much of a fighter for that.”
I still remember the first time on tumblr, on a post discussing the zombie apocalypse, where I said “hey just leave me behind with the shotgun, I’ll only slow you down” and I think it might have been @undead-tealeaves who said “fuck that, we’ll pick you up and run while you aim” and honestly it might have just been meant as a throw away comment but it made me want to cry. And it meant a lot to me, it really did, like this was a comment from over two years ago and it still pops into my head and makes me feel emotional.
Like it really is the little things like your friends being like, come the dystopian government or the ends of the earth as we know it, whichever comes first, we have you. Because we have each other. And the survivalist community that is willing to ride and die for each other, will be the one that thrives and outlives the bastards trying to put us down. Hopefully long enough to see the new dawn, but hey, you don’t always get to see the garden you sow.
I’m going to annoy all the paleo blogs, but I really need them to have silkie bantam feathers.
On one hand, stegosaurus wouldn’t have had feathers, on the other, silkie bantams have texturally very similar feathers to the very earliest feathers things like T Rex might have had.
So the above illustration, bit with claws and teeth.
