This Is It This Is My Magnum Opus Audio Design Is My Passion

This is it this is my magnum opus audio design is my passion

Get DRINKED (don't tell the Philadelphians)

Allow me to make use of tumblr’s new longpost shortening feature for a moment to say HEY… the comic we’ve been working on for the past year is live with *11 episodes* you can read RIGHT NOW.

Are you into Tech-Fantasy? Trans protagonists? Dragons? Comedy? …Romance? An oddball team of not-quite-knights chasing after a God’s last wish?

Check out HERE THERE BE DRAGONS on Webtoon!

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I was bored today, so I drew Lana Beniko from swtor since I met her in a quest two days ago.

Paper Lanterns is a community based IF game here on Tumblr. I need something to fuel the creative fires while I chip away at The Night Market demo, and I want to give you all a little something in the meantime. Here’s how it will work.

I will post a snipped under the cut every few days. At the end of the post will be three options. Comment below or send me an ask if you would rather be anonymous, over which route you would like to see. I will tally them up and write the majority option and post it in the following days. From there, we repeat the process until we, as a community, have crafted our story.

Please reblog and share this with others. The more people we have participating, the more fun I think this can be for us.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 beneath the cut

Winner of last post: Find Malcolm and see if he stole it from you.

The two of you stare at each other in one moment of blinding clarity. When you push away from where you sat, knocking the teacup to the ground, Hazel bites her thumb, staring after you.

“Please don’t kill him,” she shouts out, rocking nervously on her feet.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Bastard. When did the asshole do it? It had to be when you two were having kafe. Or maybe it had happened before? Back in the gem district? Had he switched it that early?

“He’s my brother. I’d rather not lose my last surviving family member,” Hazel sang out in reminder.. It might be the only thing that was going to save Malcolm Albright at this point.

Malcolm lived beneath a stone bridge near the spice district. It was accessible from a hidden door on the underside of the overpass where a crumbling brick path sat only an inch above the water that sliced beneath it. There had been a small tunnel leading from the docks that was a far more pleasant walk, but you thought that might have caved in years ago.

The front room was empty, save for a trapdoor that wound downwards to get away from the clambering of feet overhead. You were familiar with this area and ripped the door open to this room without knocking. Not that he would have heard you if he was home. A giant was fishing over the top of the bridge, stomping his feet at his lack of success. Dirt and sediment fell from the ceiling like snow.

Ripping open the trap door, you make your way down the spiral staircase, watching as the steps begin to light with the flickering bulbs before the banister turned gilded beneath your touch and the room bright with sun. To this day, you don’t know where Malcolm had gotten the enchantment. And as you step off the last step and into a circular room with potted ferns and blooming bougainvillea, you almost forgot what the warmth of the sun felt like.

“Was I expecting you?” Malcolm stood near a small silk screen that you knew housed a tub. He had a pair of low slung pants on while his scarred chest remained bare. You eyes linger over the half moon scars for a moment. Not many had seen them. It was with a small bit of pride that he didn’t immediately cover up.

Toweling his hair, he eyes you, suspicion clear across his face.

“Give it back.” You say without preamble

“Give what back?” He raised a brow, running the towel one last time over his head before draping it over the screen. “Oh! You must mean the gem that you stole from me.” He smiled. “No.”

Fury sparked low in your gut as you knew it would. You began walking around the room, flipping open boxes and upturning small empty vases, as if you would find the thing. You knew it would be here. Malcolm wasn’t stupid enough for that.

“I would prefer you not to mess up my things,” he called. “Especially over your own misfortunes. Really, button, this is getting a little ridiculous, even for you.”

The sound of the old nickname sent something low and curling in your belly and you round on him. “You’re going to kill me,” you say.

“Dramatic.” He rolls his eyes. “Just say you didn’t complete the job. Try again.”

“When you know I’m coming?”

Walking towards you, he stops, inches away. The heat from his skin reached out to you, mingling with the shaft of sun falling through the window. “Guess you’ll have to get better, huh?”

Hit him

Kiss him

Leave

Bargain with him for the gem

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I was bored today, so I drew Lana Beniko from swtor since I met her in a quest two days ago.