COMMISSION (OC X CANON) Ayato Kamisato

~The Marionette ~

I can't believe I'm so close to finishing this silly little series...

Boop battle

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Hello Pen Jr.

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

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If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

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As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

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It's suddenly getting chilly and the leaves are turning red! I'm so ready to snuggle up with my huskies and drink hot tea

rb to give your mutuals a silly little paper valentine card and a red heart shaped lollipop 💖

What is genshin lore even about 😭

(CW: unhelpful tongue in cheek. My best attempt at "accurate" but it depends which in game lore you trust.)

Firstly, Teyvat has its own "laws", so write that down.

Among the greatest of these laws is Fate, which the god of wisdom calls "the ultimate knowledge" because we... we don't know the future? Fate cannot be changed; also, Fate can be changed, and subverted, and superceded, if you try hard enough. Fate is inscribed wrITTEN in the sTaRS of the (false?) sky, which seems to be where the Shades live.

Fate is also the Ley Lines, which are memory, which is artifacts; memory is also Ararakalari, which is good for defeating Big Iron Chunks. If you don't have Ley Lines, use a dying angel and a cursed immortal soldier to make your own. If you don't have these, an Alberich will do, too.

Another law of Teyvat is stop trying to make gestalt consciousnesses. It didn't work for King Remus, it didn't work for Rene de Petrichor and his Narzissekreuz Ordo, it didn't work for King Deshret— or did it? Historians disagree on the exact manner of his demise—so no, you may not hire postdocs for your rebranded sentience slurry. For all we know Gosoythoth is a gestalt consciousness. Gosoythoth is of the Abyss. Haborym tells us the Abyss has no innate intelligence, though perhaps it's more accurate to call it a non-sentient animalistic intelligence. There's also the Abyss Order, which doesn't appear to be affiliated with the Five Sinners, but is affiliated with the former royalty of Khaenri'ah, a nation which I am not going to mention again due to commitment to the bit.

Teyvat, everyone agrees, is a continent of seven nations. (Well, seven nations plus an autonomous Snezhnayan protectorate(?) that's really well known for using moon magic or something. But that's a retconned protectorate so despite it probably being the grave of one or more moon sisters, good luck finding any mention of Nod-Krai outside of limited-time events. As Haborym once said: "Oh, them?, yeah, they seem cool. I guess go check them out in version six? There's plot stuff there, and yeah it's a detour that the pre-1.0 roadmap never mentioned but the journey is what matters.") The seven nations are were administered by seven Archons, who each sit on one of the Seven Thrones and each have their own Gnosis an average of one Gnosis. The Gnoses are the bones of the Third Descender. Who was that, you ask? Anyway, the Thrones and Gnoses correspond to the Seven Elements. The fact that there are seven Elements appears to be a historical contingency, based on the political division of the powers of Light back in Nibelung's reign, when he and his seven Dragon Sovereigns once ruled the world.

This was long before the days when the divine envoys walked among humanity.

If the phrase "divine envoys" made you jump in your seat, you have issues. You know who else had issues, eventually? The unified civilisation that once spanned Teyvat: a seeming federation of city states that predated the Seven Archons, containing a mix of humans and divine envoys (angels?). They were created by the Primordial One, who #descended upon Nibelung's dragon civilisation declaring terra nullius and won the ensuing war. TL;DR, they got colonised. (...though "colony" implies an imperial core, whereas the Primordial One was seemingly acting alone. Sometimes eldritch entities just show up in Teyvat from the implied void between worlds, like a cosmic whale seeking magic water. Actual example btw.)

The Primordial One may have been Phanes. (Who? Great question.) Phanes(?) had four shades, including Ronova, who controls death (not to be confused with the Big Dipper star "Beidou"), and Istaroth, who was the moment, who was every moment. (Tellingly, she was Kairos — details on subtleties here.) Phanes(?) and its shades also created the so-called Human Realm, with the subjugated Dragon Vishaps mostly confined to their native Light Realm. There was also the Void Realm, likely the aforementioned void between worlds, some of which is likely the so-called Abyss. Anyway Phanes(?) had a plan for the humanity it had created. It loved them dearly. Luckily the path to temptation had already been sealed, whatever that means.

Everything changed when the Second Who Came arrived. This Second Descender may have been the [artifact leaks] who intended to [artifact leaks] [artifact leaks] but instead [artifact leaks]. Either way, this Descender brought forbidden knowledge: likely just the kind censored by the Shades, but maaaybe the Abyssal kind that killed two gods millennia later.

War was rekindled. Phanes's(?) faction, the eventual victors, quashed heresy with a rain of Divine Nails: a mix between kinetic bombardment and AoE terraforming!curses. Humanity's world got flip-turned upside down. In the case of one Liyue city, literally upside down...... or was it everyone else who got flipped? #specialrelativity Tsurumi got shrouded in a fog of menace., seemingly unrelated to the time loop some millennia later. Sal Vindagnyr got a permawinter, and the princess could not complete her mural even as the priest made his pilgrimage. Byakuyakoku fell beneath the sea, where they invented Greece and child scapegoats. Sumeru's original forests turned to desert. (Speculative: Fontaine got FRIKEE'd, a technical term for getting displaced several nautical miles into the air and not coming back down.) Mondstadt doesn't appear to have been directly nailed but it's also developmentally centuries behind all its peers, as if someone took an industrial revolution setting and then added the blandest medieval fantasy elements to it because BotW comparisons sell.

The ruins of the unified civilisation litter Teyvat and their architecture can be found everywhere — they loved their Celtic knots. For the low cost of some petrified Moon resin that apparently only Descenders secrete, you can poke at their old Irminsul shrines (their Leylines now infested with monsters) for access to the memories within the Leylines.

According to Wolfy, who is a fictional character and also real, the Envoys were cursed in various ways, largely being turned into Seelies: shadows of themselves forever guiding lost travellers home. (According to Fischl, who is also a fictional character and also also real, the kingdom of eternal darkness that is shrouded from the heavens shall eventually re-emerge and punish the wicked usurpers: this is foretold by Fate.) There are various exceptions: Nabu Malikata; Yohualtechutin. The one mentioned by Wolfy is Nicole Reeyn, who is the second-most Seelie coded character in the game because she likes being a good guide.

Seemingly later there was the Gnoses and the Archon War (at least in Liyue and Inazuma) and then there was nobody left who shared the memories of osmanthus wine so dear to Morax, besides the several dozen illuminated beast vassals, in his employ, and also Marchosias, who got Rukkhadevata'd, a term that is the opposite of getting Arama'd. (Arama was an Aranara but then they had to be a worldtree. Rukkhadevata was

More recently, there was the Siege of Poisson. Parsifal was there [citation needed][disputed]. Possibly because of this, Tenoch and Bosacius died soon after, and a whole lot of Hilichurls got made. Stars fell from the skies, and according to the promotional Xbox wings one of them was once the scion of a glorious kingdom.

Introduction v2

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Want a dragon design? | Tell me your fave thing about the holidays

(I am not qualified to verify the legitimacy of Palestine fundraisers if it’s a GoFundMe link. Please check out vetted lists instead of asking me on anon or in general. I can not verify Palestine GoFundMe links.)

Hi! I’m Key (aka Jess from @shadowfoxsilver) and this is a blog where I attempt to document scam posts and scam blogs while also trying my best to post information about easy and simple ways to spot scam accounts. Any information supplied here has been obtained from public sources though sometimes it is only found in private places. If the information is from a private source, I will have personal data redacted while leaving important information visible. While my focus is pet donation scams, other scams can be found here if I have enough to show it. My featured tags are also another way to access information quickly.

The main purpose of this blog is to have a publicly accessible resource of information that can be found if you have searched around. Most of what I post is generally tagged properly or at least to the best of my ability. I also use this post to compile a quick access point to important links as over time the posts get buried. This way opening my blog pulls up a post where you can quickly find any links you look for.

While I do work daily, I do try my best to keep all my information up to date so a post may have new information on it at a later date. All the stuff I do here is only a hobby, but I do have a ko-fi here if you’d like to check it out. Do not feel pressured to send me anything. It is your choice!

As of recently, an anonymous user may send asks to people who interact with me and tell them I’m a scammer. This anon is just a scammer who has been over here for a while now being annoyed that I bust scams. If you have any questions, my asks and messages are always open.

Now listed below is useful links and other places you may find me where I mainly post art. Feel free to share this post, I don’t mind.

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putting a polaroid of you on my unhinged conspiracy board and linking you with a red string to a post it note that just says "gay"