Tbh I wasn’t gonna post today, but I was cleaning up my tabs and accidentally started playing, so…
Nekra Psaria (1-4)
Well, with Flash’s demise ahead of us, I guess it’s appropriate to play a Flash game. It’s a pretty straight forward point-and-click game, but to be honest I kind of needed something I could play without thinking about it too much, and this actually worked really well.
For me, the difficulty of the puzzles was really only present in being absolutely confused about the layouts of the levels, but that’s also what makes it a game that you can just start on a whim without accidentally losing an entire day to it.
The art on the other hand, is obviously in a very strange league of its own - If you don’t like creepy things, especially on the body horror-adjacent side of things, I wouldn’t recommend it - but this surreal world definitely has its charm. I like how despite it being rather grotesque in style, it doesn’t really rely on gore or violence, it’s just weird.
Did I Cry While Playing it? No, but some random head I picked up did, so there’s that.
New Razzopolis characters! Silas Hoary, vampire mob boss, and his second in command, the butch lesbian werewolf Klau Honshu; then we have Sylvia Silvermane’s parents, finally; and the body horror show and architect Brigid Béal.
Still slowly picking away at Razzopolis, bit by bit!
[images: illustrations featuring various original characters; the first involves a bearded vampire in a pinstripe suit with vampire cape smiling smugly as he’s protected by a shorter woman, a grey werewolf in a grey pinstripe suit with yellow patterned waistcoat;
the second image is of a woman with very long pointed ears wearing a blue flapper dress and silvery hair hugging a bearded man in a sweater vest;
the last is a woman in a pink dress and feathered headband with eyes and mouths where there should not be eyes and mouths]
“And still he does not wake. Wandering his slim collection of gifted nightmares, passing the grey and lifeless remains of severed dreams he can no longer watch, he waits - but not for long - before they all begin again.”
Catalyst stones are still used by witches and wizards in the modern era, though they are vanishingly rare. The few that remain are closely guarded, often in the hands of ancient, powerful magical families that can trace their lineages back to before the fall of the Old Kingdom.
These valuable artifacts are passed down through bloodlines, like the gift of magic itself. Every magic-user that wields one is certain to have received it from their parent, who received it from their parent before them, and so on.
While embedding a catalyst stone in one’s body can increase its potency, much of the knowledge of how to do so was lost with the Old Kingdom. Mingling such powerful, raw magic with one’s own flesh has dire risks. No modern wizard in his right mind would dare attempt it.
Of course, not all wizards are in their right minds.
If you haven’t read her fanfiction “When you follow the strange trails” HERE , you must be really confused! In this story, Deet has visions of possible futures and in one of them, Rian became that abomination made by SkekTek! In our discord server, we named this spooky boy “Knife Hands Rian”
Poor Rian, he can’t catch a break, even in alternative futures! But at least, he can’t lose his sword…
he’s actually fine, this species secretes a flesh-glue so he can open himself up, scrape parasites out, and close himself back up. however he is not excited about it
Image ID: An illustration of a woman in a tuxedo carrying another. The woman in her arms is ghostly and skeletal, wearing a bridal dress that melts into her rib-cage. The one in the dress has a face that is obscured by a blinding light, mushrooms, cobwebs and butterflies.
Drew a quick something for Amnesia’s 10th anniversary! Y’all know how much this game means to me. As cheesy as it sounds, it really was life changing, and there’s nothing I’d change from these ten years of being in this silly ass fandom <3 Congrats on the ten years, @frictionalgames ! Looking forward to Rebirth <333
some NPC concept art for the Geist chronicle I am working on. These are Sin-Eaters, people who have been brought back to life by an archetypal ghost that follows them around.
SomeartworkI used as inspiration for one of the geists
I always thought Thor’s eye wound wasn’t gnarly enough. Like I know the movie is meant to be suitable for children, but it just looks so flat and in the theatre you could tell that the opacity of that layer wasn’t at 100% so you could see Chris’s eye through it… anyway it still bothers me when I watch Ragnarok so here’s this.
For Inktober Day 4 here’s a concept for if The Thing crashed into the north pole instead of the south.
I imagine an instance where a caribou gets assimilated while sniffing for grasses and a polar bear later approaches what it thinks is an old carcass to scavenge, only to be attacked and assimilated as well.
Idk much about junji ito but his work is super cool and ive had this idea for a batim crossover in my head for a while ^_^
The original drawing is fanart by @/obj_SHEP on twitter!! I got the idea for this entirely from their art - i thought it was official since it’s redrawn and used for merch, tattoos etc so often but i didnt find out until after id almost finished so credit goes fully to the original artist for the redraw inspo!
Afflicted by the Skies and the stars, Mazarine has seen quite some of them.
Writing under the cut!
They’re alone in their bridge - their locomotive is befallen by everything that befalls a locomotive in the skies. Massive frost and glass spikes break open their hull - they don’t seem to care. Or notice. You think you see rags tied to their engine like the death scavengers do, but its hard to tell. A glimmer of brass, underneath.** **> The hull is an amalgamation of parts from other locomotives, welded and molten together. You can’t tell how this thing is still sky worthy at all, but it seems to shunt forwards anyways, aggressively.
There’s a serious infestation of guests on board - you can see them splurging out from what must have been crew cabin windows, but they look starved and limp, only squirming pathetically. They don’t find enough nourishment here.
The horrific locomotive keeps lurching forwards, shrieking and shuddering and roaring, towards you. You hold your breath as it passes your own. You catch a glimpse of the captain, or whoever else the person in the bridge is - at least you think it’s a person.
They are propped up on the controls, staring dead ahead out of the windshield. Shards of glass sprout from their skull, almost like a distorted, jagged crown.
Fire fills their breast, spilling out between the ribs. Most of their skin is charred. An arm, missing, a clump of blackened, molten glass.
What’s a body part to an artificial sun, blinding and loving and filling?
What’s an artificial sun to the real one? To what lies beyond?
Their stare is piercing, something whirling and grinding and working behind their exhausted face, eyes bright and incomprehensible.
Are they alone? Do they have crew?
If you would ask then, they wouldn’t know the answer. They giggle. Does it even matter, whether anyone else on board is alive or whether all that remains are charred spots of ash? They laugh in the face of whatever it was that befell them.
Their engine burns too brightly, too vibrant, you think.
But you don’t ask them. If you’ve ever been sure of anything in your life, it’s that you want nothing to do with this…. you can’t even find the words.
You watch, tense, as the ragged locomotive passes you, seemingly no interest in your own. It disappears into the fogs - the horrific coughing and roaring of the engine clinging to your ears long after.
You tell your stokers to go faster. You steer the opposite direction.
