DUDE COME ON YOURE SUCH A GOOD ARTIST

DUDE COME ON YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD ARTIST

More orcs and elves and fantasy stuff today.

Up front is a dark elf named Idrilli of Torkel with her journal (bonus points if you can figure out what the journal has to do with my laziness) in a dress inspired by that crazy gold spider silk cape that made rounds on the internet a few years ago.

In the backdrop a mysterious and ominous figure, thanks entirely to @monsterbrush for offering to let me use a sketch from their upcoming character sheet for their Orc character, Konkor, for this intimidating silhouette of an orc hunter.

I still adore this short okay? Old Man Ki’lte is a national treasure.

For the short story request: I would very much love to see Old Man Ki’lte and his favourite mate either as youths or in their old age. Or both?

Midway through the first phase of hunting season, Ki'lte's pack had not yet left the clan world. This was completely normal, for this pack was one which specialized in teaching the next generation. Teaching any skill takes time, waiting for gangly would-be hunters to finish cutting their adult teeth takes even longer. De'val-tu, current leader of the pack and one of Ki'lte's own former apprentices, may chose to delay departure up to the second half of the hunting season if their batch of students failed to pass their trials until such a point. After that halfway mark, any failures would be left behind so that the passing candidates could test their mettle against the kiande amedha.

This year's crop looked good, so far, and Ki'lte anticipated a sprightly bug hunt from the youngsters. Not yet, no, they were far from ready today, but soon.

While the leader, combat advisor, and the young ones slept under the shade of the great training arena, Ki'lte basked himself in the morning rays of heat and thought of his favorite companion.

Ah, Chiruli! The most lovely of Paya's blessed creations.

His admiring thoughts were crudely interrupted by the sound of water pit-pattering against sand.

Ki'lte glanced over his shoulder to witness an early riser who possessed the sense to step away from the resting area to relieve himself, but not enough to avoid pissing into the wind and misting his own shins in the reeking shower.

It may take longer than he thought to imbue the students with any semblance of common sense. Suppressing a snarl of frustration, Ki'lte decided then that he would visit his oldest and most trusted friend, Chiruli, today. This could be the last visit of the long cycle before the students were ready to taste the wrath of the hard-meat swarms. Maybe. Gods knew he needed his dose of conversation with someone of his own age.

So, the old one stood, began to gather his things, and called the one youngling who happened to be awake with an impatient growl.

Once decent, the student jogged over, keeping a respectable physical distance and dipping his head in submission.

"Shaman?" he addressed Ki'lte in question, waiting to be told the reason he was summoned.

"You will wait for our leader and Warku to wake, you will inform them that I have gone into the city and will return before two nights pass, but before anything else you will go wash yourself. You smell like piss."

-

A wizened crone sat outside on a great stone patio upon a mat as she scanned through her daily itinerary with her wrist computer display, checking off all that had been done and choosing what to relegate to another day. The list is never short, and there is never enough time to attend to every matter of daily life when you occupy the position of a family's eldest matriarch and a district council member, but today was a good day, no matter how busy or how short this period of rest would be.

Chiruli had spent the morning watching over her eldest daughter as she filled out her petition form to request a seat on the district council. Her eldest was a thinker, which came as little surprise. The male who sired that child also spent much of his time pondering morality and justice, perhaps too much for a hunter.

No matter, Chiruli did not concern herself much with the business males get up to during the hunting season. That was their business, politics was hers and her daughter's. It was their duty in society to write and define the law. Chiruli had hopes that one of her brood would take a position in the profession of arbitration, one who reigns in those who stray from the code. This would complete the four sides of her legacy as if it were a pyramid. Hunters, Matriarchs, Law makers, and Law Keepers. Skemtri showed promise in that area, though it is troublesome to mothers when their older children think so highly of themselves that they believe it is their right to punish their siblings themselves for perceived wrongdoings.

As if on cue, the sound of a child screeching in the secondary courtyard pierced the air. It sounded like one of the youngest grandchildren, so Chiruli chose to ignore the sound for now. Just a little longer and she could finish her itinerary and truly begin her day.

The squealing and screams of excitement only rose in pitch, the first cry joined by at least half the crèche within the span of only a few breaths. Why were none of her daughters handling the disturbance?! A matriarch must do what is necessary to maintain an orderly family, so, Chiruli stood, foregoing her list making to check on the children and quiet their squalling.

Through the commons, down the corridor, and out into the courtyard. The children flowed past her, each with sticky hands and naxa flesh on their breath if not the cool smooth fruits gripped in their hands. A few of Chiruli's daughters stood about looking amused at the victim the little ones had made a game of harassing.

There stood her favorite mate, cutting the last of his offerings in half for the final two children to share.

With a few raps of her claws against the keys of her wrist device, she cleared her schedule for the day.

"You disturb my peaceful morning, Hunter, and you've failed to save your offerings from the broodlings,"

"It was an ambush," he grumbled as the children, satisfied with their treats, left him on his own under her stern gaze.

"Is that your excuse?"

"Does it displease you that I dote upon our grandchildren?" Ki'lte challenged, boldly meeting her gaze from across the yard.

"You make it too easy for them, and remember that not all of them are of your line, Philosopher," Chiruli teased him, pleased to watch his jowls become hot with ire over the jest.

Ki'lte was too old to fall for such a trap with verbal retaliation, but he could not hide the grudge he still held toward her second favorite warrior.

"There is no ill will between Hap and I, and I would not fault his descendents even if there was," he half lied. Chiruli knew the second half of the statement was true.

"Enough meaningless niceties, come old hunter, you will make yourself useful in private."

That was the last of what was said within reach of curious ears. The male dipped his head respectfully and followed the matriarch to her chambers, and there, their demeanor changed.

"You're tense, Ki'lte," Chiruli rumbled warmly as she sat at the edge of her bed with both arms outstretched for him to join her, "cease all formalities and speak to me, Bright Mind. I've missed your rambling."

Chiruli, like most females, was a head taller than Ki'lte and perhaps twenty percent heavier than he was. She pulled him easily onto her lap where he may as well have melted with the comfort of her embrace.

"I watched one of my students piss all over his own feet today. My hope wanes, beloved one." he rattled with bleak amusement and so did Chiruli.

"Ah, then tell me all about them. Perhaps there's more potential in them than you realize. A comfortable rest in something other than sand might improve your mood as well."

Chiruli dragged her lower tusks against the thick tendrils of his tresses to draw an answer out of him. He trilled softly with clattering mandibles before making a quiet request.

"A rest first?"

"Yes, after you bathe. You're still full of sand, decrepit old man," she teased a final time before encouraging him off her lap with a gentle push.

Of course, he made a show of his protest but made his way out toward the bathhouse in spite of his lack of enthusiasm.

Chiruli only smiled and settled herself on her back in the neatly made bedding, awaiting a freshly washed mate to help her rumple it.

Some fanart for an absolutely wonderful MMFR fanfiction: Midwife Rising by ImRobin, featuring a Wretched midwife clawing her way up through the ranks of the Citadel in the aftermath of the Fury Road and everybody’s favorite trash lizard. 

@burn-your-face-upon-the-chrome it do be us at any moment at all

The point above still stands.

I wanted to talk about these because apparently a lot of people outside of germany and the surrounding countries don't know about these. And with the rise of right wing politics in parts of the western world it is important to talk about the victims of the Holocaust.

These are called Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) because while you go about your day to day life you literally "stumble" across these. These stones are on the ground, where everyone walks, in the middle of hundreds of cities all over Germany and a few neighboring countries.

They are in front of the last residencies of victims of the Holocaust. Every single stone is dedicated to one person. They always say "here lived -name-" then their birthday and what we know about what happened to them.

For example this one says:

"Here lived

Georg Rosenberg

Year 1886 (which is the year he was born in, the exact birthday isn't known)

Arrested 1939

Deported 1943

Murdered in Auschwitz"

These are there so that we will never forget what happened and that even when you're doing mundane chores you might stumble across these and remember the victims. This is especially important now that the last survivors, who can tell their stories first hand, are dying.

Every year people get together to clean the Stolpersteine, so that they stay intact and readable.

Remembering and being reminded of the horrible things that happened and remembering the victims is one of the most important parts in preventing something like this from happening again.

So if you ever come to Germany or if you actually live here and have never noticed these, maybe take some time to look down and read about these people's fates

Required bebe reblog. Stinky faces!

By popular request, my cats. Furiosa (grey & white) and Slade (catzilla)