I’m satisfied with Taya’s current design but I do plan to change it in-story. I want to keep her general aesthetic but make it more punk or refined. I think she looks cool with short hair.
Coping
When I finally have the chance to breathe
I can’t stop thinking about
The way you see me
Inverting previous admonitions
From condescension to care
I wonder if I too am inverted
If the miles between us
Cloud your words
Making fickle mist with every breath
Evolving Emotions: Moderation
*Trigger Warning*
This poem contains eating disorder subject matter.
In the realm of hypocrisy
Everything in moderation
The chant that leads to an obsession
An obsession that cannot be moderated
Counting the calories
Saying no
Saying yes becomes a rarity
And even then
Wishing you hadn’t
That number on the scale
Satisfying but wanting
Wanting perfection
That moderation of flesh
Of fat
Of life
Wanting the shock
The surprise
The congratulatory remarks
They didn’t know the damage done
Seasons pass
A new obsession
One of eating feelings
Crying frustration
Counting calories
Unable to stop the pain
You stuff it down your throat
Only for it to come back up
A mess of “moderation”
Of obsession beyond balance
Beyond sense
Polar sides
Neither just right
Always looking
Striving
For the approval
For the stability
Of those words
“Everything in moderation”
Industrious Illustrating #9: Fantasy (1/?)
For this week’s Industrious Illustrating, I want to share a painting I did as concept art for a fantasy visual novel idea I had. The painting itself isn’t done yet, but it’s in a finished enough state that I can show it to others . This is the Palace of Spades, which is a magical fusion of a Huaxia palace and an Albion castle. It floats above a deep pit in the middle of the capital city of Longjing/Sigillum — the two names given to the city by different populations of inhabitants.
The regions of Huaxia and Albion are loosely inspired by Ancient China and by medieval England, though the story takes place when the world is on the cusp of technological and societal change. After all, it’s almost been a thousand years since the Kingdom of Spades was founded by four heroes from Huaxia and Albion uniting their people to seal away the Great Leviathan, and the magical seal on the Great Leviathan is about to break. It’s now up to the current generation of Spades Royals to defeat Spades’s greatest threat once again…
To create this painting, I heavily referenced real-life pavilions, castles, and buildings for the architecture of the Palace of Spades. I’m still making more concept art and illustrations for this storyline, so I may end up sharing more of it when they’re finished!
TOLAROIDS: Cities
I took the idea from last week and decided to post photos of cities. Some of them will be obvious choices but some will be ones that are more intriguing or less common. I definitely have more I wanted to post but these ones happened to catch my attention today.
Happy finals!
The Rise of the Band Geeks, Episode 25: They’re Called Rehearsals, Not Camps
“They’re called rehearsals, Hal! Not camps!” A snare drummer, Billy Bob, twirled his drumstick with his ring finger before flinging it in the air and catching it with his pinky.
Hal grinned mischievously and waggled his reversible stuffed octopus. “I know.”
It was an inside joke: the drumline summer rehearsals were not camps because camps were optional, but rehearsals weren’t. Of course, the drumline members screamed this phrase in a jocular manner whenever said rehearsals were mentioned, or when someone either accidentally or deliberately misspoke.
“Where’d you get that?” Franklin F. Franklin jabbed his finger toward Hal’s octopus.
“Bruh, I just came her to have a good time and I honestly feel so attacked right now.” Hal cradled his octopus, surreptitiously flipped it so it showed its amgery face instead of its happi face.
Billy Bob flung his stick into the air again. He caught it with his thumbnail and flicked the digit around so that his stick mimicked a figure 8 motion. “Pretty sure he’s had it since last fall. You know, when everyone got a stuffed octopus…”
“Oh. Alright. Carry on.” Franklin sidled away, blowing air through his mouth in a horrid attempt to whistle.
“Why are we even here?” Hal questioned. He stroked his poor amgery octopus and wondered why he hadn’t named the plushie Franklin. “We don’t even have practice.”
“I don’t…actually know.” Billy Bob frowned. “In fact, I don’t even know how I got here. Or what I’m doing.” As he spoke, he balanced the drumstick on his hangnail. “You?”
“I live in the supply closet.” Hal shrugged.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Now, Billy Bob had the stick perched on the bridge of his nose. Despite what gravity and common sense might have you think, the stick did not fall. “I…can’t say I know when my finals are either. Or what classes I’m taking this semester. Or next semester.”
Hal knitted his eyebrows together. He, too, had had the same experience; he felt like his high school career was a blip in his mind, and everything before that was darkness. “Say, do you ever go anywhere other than your dorm and the band hall?”
“Not…really?” Somehow, his drumstick was now vertical as it pressed a divot into Billy Bob’s nose. “I don’t know what the world beyond this band hall is. I think…” He trailed off, and the drumstick fell at long last to the ground.
“Hal, I think we’re fictional characters.”
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN!!!!!
