so I’ve been meaning to put this on tumblr and keep forgetting but, in the campaign I’m running my sister is playing an orc fighter, and one of the options you can pick for a fighter’s signature weapon is that it “glows in the presence of [fill in the blank].”
I was like, “oh, that’s funny because it’s a reference to that sword in The Hobbit that glows in the presence of orcs. Your weapon probably doesn’t glow in the presence of orcs.”
to which she responded, “FUCK YEAH it does.”
So now we have in the party an orc fighter with a club that glows in the presence of orcs. Or, as far as the character is concerned, a club that glows. It’s been in her family for generations since some ancestor won it in a battle, and it’s just always glowed. She has a sack to put it in when she’s trying to be stealthy.
art block is your brain telling you to do studies.
draw a still life. practice some poses. sketch some naked people. do a color study. try out a different technique on a basic shape.
art block doesnt stop you from drawing, it stops you from making your drawings look the way you want them to. and thats because you need to push your skills to the next level so you can preform at that standard
think of it as level grinding for your next work.
As a scientific illustrator- this is 100% true and going to review your basics will fix it every goddamn time. Not only does it keep your skills sharp, when you’re not emotionally invested in the final product of a piece, you relax and your brain makes more/better art juice for you. So, when you get back to that big/important piece? You’ll know what to do and how to do it.
Nothing in nature blooms all year round. Rest, and take care of yourself.
So here’s a question:
What is the writing equivalent of life studies?
Journaling? Drabble prompts? Stream of consciousness stories? I’m thinking maybe anything that doesn’t require actually structure or planning, just write the words that come to you?
All of those are good, basically anything you’re not “Serious” about. I write fanfic when I’m stuck on a “Serious” piece. Go write some crackfic, describe an overnight doing something sick with no context, plot out a mystery. Go have fun and put your writing on the back burner.
Haruka loses a bet to Minako and has to go on “The Worst Date Ever” and Haruka just laughs because Oh Mina, and even when she has to put on the prom dress, she totally expected it, yeah I’ll be girly tonight it’ll be hilarious, oh, sparkle butterfly clips aha, and then Mina picks her up in a wood paneled minivan.
And Seiya is in the back seat. In a prom dress. With sparkle butterfly clips.
They stare at each other, and then at Mina, who just says, “when you two lost this bet, I said you have to go on the worst date,” she can’t keep from smiling, “I never said it had to be with ME”
The rest of the night is her forcing them together: They have to slow dance while Mina karaokes “my Heart Will Go On,” she yells at them to hold hands every time they’re walking, they go to dinner at a cheap salad buffet.
Neither Seiya nor Haruka ever make a bet with Mina again, and at least on this they can agree.
Another Patreon release!!This is the commission from Elaina/Rhio! I hope all of you enjoy it, and if you do, tell her! Maybe she’ll commission the continuance of the story, though I think this is plenty readable as one standalone, too. 2.840 words.
She loved the world she lived in. She loved the way the sun and the wind made the wheat into a sea when it grew tall enough, the way it rolled and danced like an ocean made of sunshine. She loved to run the entire length of the island, to the edge where the water splashed up against the rocks and roared. She loved the crisp smell of the forest in winter, when the snow laid upon the branches and the birds were still.
She loved the stories the old folks told, about the things that lived on the island, the different peoples who lived mostly on in each other’s imaginations. The pixies that lived at the far garden fields to the south, and the bright and colorful world there, with parties you could see at night, if you looked, tiny dancing balls of colored light over the deep grass. The serpents of the high rocks, whose claws could crush a centaur without effort, who could breathe ice and fire and who sometimes soared over the island. And the mermaids, the mermaids were her favorite, dwelling in the deep unknown of the sea–she had been to the rocks, and she often went to the garden fields, but centaurs, as a rule, did not go to the sea, and it contained all the tales that thrilled and frightened the colts.
She even loved her little town, and her little job in it, working as an apprentice blacksmith, spending her nights going to the little bar where her friend Mina worked slinging ales and ciders, where her friend Mako would bring leftovers from her little bakery. All was small and all was perfect, and very rarely did Haruka ever feel that something was missing from her life. Even when she did, she could not have conjured what the answer to the riddle might have been, and would have simply taken another ale, and another honeycake, and thought no more on the matter.
But even the sun enters the sea, sometimes, they say, and Haruka did occasionally fall into melancholy as dramatically as a rock falls into the ocean, and just as difficult to reclaim.
It was on an occasion such as this that Mina found herself rapidly losing patience with her gangly golden friend.
A release from the patreon vault, AU of Mystery and Shadow
“Bud, sit down before you fall down.” MIna looked over at Haruka, who was balanced unsteadily, shaking, obviously tired and hurting, but stubbornly trying to remain on her feet, leaning against the wall of the nursery. She tried to give Haruka a graceful out. “You’re gonna fall and fuck up the paint.”
Haruka bit her lip, frustrated, and took a seat on the high stool Mina set next to her, passing an annoyed glance at the clunky wheelchair a few feet from her.
She looked over at Mina. ‘I’m gonna walk again, you know.”
Mina closed her eyes, not ready to have this fight again. “Okay.”
Haruka huffed. “Don’t say okay like you don’t believe me, Mina.”
Mina went back to painting the soft mint green on the wall, thinking for a moment, and then softly murmured. “You don’t need to push yourself so hard. Not on this.”
Rhio's Tunglr Stuff 