This Month For The Creature Club I Drew Amazon River Animals. Fish, Snakes, Otters, Turtles, Weird Birds,

@happinessisntfun and I have been discussing who should find Robby mid breakdown in Pedes (assuming anyone finds him) and I....

Best- Dana, Collins, maybe Kiara? Mel would do her best but I don't think he'd want to be seen by her like that.

Worst- Langdon, Santos, any hallucination of a dead person, the reporter guy who faked being injured.

Unhinged???- Myrna (have we found her yet?), Random SWAT man that just backs right out of the room.

I am NOT ready for tonight, regardless.

Honestly.

When people like my silly lil collages I'm like, !?!?!?!

If u interact with my posts, just know I respond like this:

Motivated By Death

A collage inspired by Hannibal.

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

5 simple exercises to awaken dormant muscles

{source}

This is so important for USA folks.

We have to do what we can.

Look.

I have made you a chart. A very simple chart.

People say "You have to draw the line somewhere, and Biden has crossed it-" and my response is "Trump has crossed way more lines than Biden".

These categories are based off of actual policy enacted by both of these men while they were in office.

If the ONLY LINE YOU CARE ABOUT is line 12, you have an incredible amount of privilege, AND YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT PALESTINIANS. You obviously have nothing to fear from a Trump presidency, and you do not give a fuck if a ceasefire actually occurs. You are obviously fine if your queer, disabled, and marginalized loved ones are hurt. You clearly don't care about the status of American democracy, which Trump has openly stated he plans to destroy on day 1 he is in office.

Things in the Darkness

Collage inspired by Raymond Reddington from The Blacklist

Inherited Silver

A collage for Quinn from the Webtoon Wolfsbane!

Seconding Deadly Education trilogy. That had be in a CHOKEHOLD

In honor of JKR being a total waste of breath and space yet again:

Other (better) books to read instead of Harry Potter—

1. The Secret of Platform 13 by Eva Ibbotson.

“ Under Platform 13 in one of London’s busiest train stations is an old doorway covered with peeling posters. Behind I is the entrance to a magical kingdom and island where humans live happily with mermaids, ogres and mysterious creatures called mist makers. When a beastly woman named Mrs. Trottle kidnaps the islands young Prince, it’s up to a strange band of rescuers to find him, save him, and return him to the king and queen. But can the rescuers—an ogre, a hag, a wizard and a fey troop around London unnoticed? And what if the prince doesn’t want to go back?”

(This book contains an impoverished ‘orphan’ raised by cruel adults, a bumbling old wizard, magical young adults, and an entrance to a magical world on a train platform in London. Sound familiar? Because it was released in 1994…three years prior to the first Harry Potter book. Just sayin’.)

More below the cut:

2. A College of Magics by Caroline Stevermer.

“Teenager Farris Nallaneen is the heir to the small northern dukedom of Galazon. Too young still to claim her title, her despotic Uncle Brinker has ruled in her place. Now he demands she be sent to Greenlaw College. For her benefit he insists.

To keep me out of the way more like it!

But Greenlaw is not just any school—as Farris and her new best friend Jane discover. At Greenlaw students major in…magic. But it’s not all fun and games when Farris makes an enemy of classmate Menary of Aravill, life could get downright…deadly.”

(A fabulous magical coming-of-age story with an interesting heroine and clearly defined magic system. The sequel is excellent as well.)

3. A Deadly Education by Naomi Novic.

“Everyone loves Orion Lake. Everyone else, that is. Far as I’m concerned he can keep his flashy combat magic to himself. I’m not joining his pack of adoring fans. I don’t need his help surviving the Scholomance, even if they do. Forget the hordes of monsters and cursed artifacts—I’m probably the most dangerous thing in the place. Just give me a chance and I’ll level mountains and kill untold millions, make myself the dark queen of the world.

At least, that’s what the world expects.”

(A dark magical school actively trying to kill its students and a misfit heroine with a mysterious power. A golden retriever of a male hero who is in constant need of being rescued and a group of misfits who come into their own power by forging their own paths…the book ends on a cliffhanger but the series is complete.)

3. Anything Tamora Pierce. She does coming of age in a magical world stories so well. My personal favorites are the Trickster's Choice duology of Trickster's Choice and Trickster's Queen and the Beka Cooper series which begins with Terrier.

There's SO many series out there which do the themes of Harry Potter in more interesting, well-written stories that don't support the physical embodiment of a Dementor. Try some out! I love recommending these books to the students in my life that are looking for good books 'like Harry Potter', but these are just my personal suggestions. I'm always on the lookout for more...

I got to hold a 500,000 year old hand axe at the museum today.

It's right-handed

I am right-handed

There are grooves for the thumb and knuckle to grip that fit my hand perfectly

I have calluses there from holding my stylus and pencils and the gardening tools.

There are sharper and blunter parts of the edge, for different types of cutting, as well as a point for piercing.

I know exactly how to use this to butcher a carcass.

A homo erectus made it

Some ancestor of mine, three species ago, made a tool that fits my hand perfectly, and that I still know how to use.

Who were you

A man? A woman? Did you even use those words?

Did you craft alone or were you with friends? Did you sing while you worked?

Did you find this stone yourself, or did you trade for it? Was it a gift?

Did you make it for yourself, or someone else, or does the distinction of personal property not really apply here?

Who were you?

What would you think today, seeing your descendant hold your tool and sob because it fits her hands as well?

What about your other descendant, the docent and caretaker of your tool, holding her hands under it the way you hold your hands under your baby's head when a stranger holds them.

Is it bizarre to you, that your most utilitarian object is now revered as holy?

Or has it always been divine?

Or is the divine in how I am watching videos on how to knap stone made by your other descendants, learning by example the way you did?

Tomorrow morning I am going to the local riverbed in search of the appropriate stones, and I will follow your example.

The first blood spilled on it will almost certainly be my own, as I learn the textures and rhythm of how it's done.

Did you have cuss words back then? Gods to blaspheme when the rock slips and you almost take your thumbnail off instead? Or did you just scream?

I'm not religious.

But if spilling my own blood to connect with a stranger who shared it isn't partaking in the divine

I don't know what is.