JUNE PREORDER LAUNCH !!

JUNE PREORDER LAUNCH !!

i've got so much new stuff, be sure to check it out in our shop. :o)

fandoms: baldur's gate 3, dungeon meshi, yakuza, stardew valley, silent hill, pathologic.

i also got the sticker bundles of the same fandoms!

reblogs are appreciated. <3

🔗 https://dabshop.bigcartel.com/products

Look: I get I’m looking too far into this and probably need to go to bed because it’s wayyy past my sleepy time. But. The framing. Is so good. And the color. It just - all comes together to make Daniil look so alone, so small, so cold. He’s completely isolated here, both physically, through the framing and through the lack of physical contact due to plague precautions, culturally, and socially due to him being an outsider to the Town, and I ~adore~ how that’s all exaggerated further in this. So good.

I love it. Very nice

image description: a color study from pathologic 2. framed by the doorway, daniil dankovsky works by lamplight in his room at the stillwater

okay but remember how easy it was for creature to accidentally kill someone just with a joyous embrace, because he didn't quite know how strong he was compared to how fragile humans are? rem- remember that? imagine-

imagine how trembly his hands would be because he'd be terrified of hurting such tiny little thing. imagine the anxiety, the tenderness, the curiosity, the fear ... and the pure awe that he would experience for the first time, because this small thing wasn't afraid of such a big, horrible 'wretch'. it has teensy yet sharp weapons, but chooses not to use them on him? and it makes such delightful, vibrating noises??

yeah i hc that most animals are afraid of creature.

most,

but not cats

I love this.

I’m not quite sure what the hooks are (perhaps the hooks of duty tying them to heal others, perhaps the hooks of fate tying them to the Town, or simply in reference to how some people in the Town say there’s fish hooks in the Gorkhon? Just some theories) but I find them ~very interesting~ and absolutely gorgeous.

The detailing - especially in the fur of Artemy-bear and the scales of Daniil-snake - looks ~incredible~, and bull skull dripping blood? Just feels so ominous? I love it

Sorry for the ramble, I just like this a lot :)

Bared fangs - Обнаженные клыки

THIS IS GORGEOUS OH MY GOD

I just finished reading everything posted so far - and? This? So GOOD?

Not only is the art ~beautiful~, but the lines, the story! It’s all done so well.

I love how earthy each panel feels - the colors have this- this distinct murk to them, in the best way possible. Really nails the Pathologic feel.

Hats off to you, OP!

Altered Lines

Chapter 1, Part 1

Chapter 1

part 1 part 2 part 3

Chapter 2 part 1 part 2 part 3

Inspired by @anonymousalchemist's amazing Fic, a crack in the heart where the fear shines out. If you love the concept of Jon stumbling into Nightvale, definitely give it a read!

Comic Transcript Beneath the Cut:

[ID: Eight Page comic between Cecil, a radio host, and Jon, an archivist. Cecil is a white man with undercut, white hair, a slight build, wearing purple and white clothes. Jon is a brown man with shoulderlength, greying black hair, slight build,wearing green and black clothes. They hold their conversation in the recording studio of the Night Vale radio station.

CECIL: You look like you have questions. Listeners, my guest is standing over me right now. He mostly looks confused, and tired, and like has spent a long time with too little sleep and too much worry. And he looks angry. But not a hot anger, more like an anger like banked coals, or the anger of simmering water, formless and directed only by the vessel it is in.

JON: It’s—no. I don’t have a question. Well, I have a lot of questions, but, nevermind. Go on.

CECIL: No, go ahead! Ask.

JON: Alright, fine! I just don’t understand how you, well, how you have a boyfriend!

[Silence, but this time with a different energy]

CECIL: Well, there comes a time in every man’s life, when he sees a handsome scientist—

JON: Not like that! I mean like… I don’t understand how you are what you are and still...still have love? Still be capable of love? You’re the same as whatever I am, you’re more powerful than what I am, I’m pretty sure you’re also of the Eye, and you seem happy with it, which, great! Great for you! Great that you're having a great time! But how on earth does that square with having a boyfriend?

[Silence, with a third, entirely distinct energy]

CECIL: In the immortal words of one of the quintessential dance tunes from the 1990s performed by Haddaway, “What is love? Baby don’t hurt me.”

CECIL: What is love, listeners? What is it about the nature of love that makes the threat of harm so integral to its existence? If we were to pry open the human heart from its delicate cage and carefully carve into it with a scalpel, we would find no evidence of love. If I were to open my skull and scoop out the throbbing electric fat-and-protein jello that we call a brain, there would be no evidence of the feeling I have when Carlos smiles at me.

CECIL: And it was because of that love that when Carlos lay in Lane Five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex,  when Carlos dove into the featureless black cubes that made up the condos, when Carlos was stranded in the desert otherworld, only reachable by call, text, or tumblr message, that I was afraid. That Carlos, perfectly imperfect Carlos, would be gone, only to exist in my memory, and that no amount of watching could save him. Love is not the antithesis of fear, listeners. It is the preamble to it.

CECIL: I broadcast these words to you at their pre-appointed times because I love Night Vale, just as many of you, sweet citizens, love Night Vale. And I broadcast because I fear for Night Vale. I fear, in the non-immortal words of my past self, for anyone caught between what they know and what they don’t yet know that they don’t know.

CECIL: The tragedy of our lives is that we are alive, and that our lives are so fleeting , the soap bubble of existence on top of a cruel and uncaring dimension full of untold horrors that invade our dreams and waking nightmares. But like a soap bubble, our lives are iridescent , and it is because of that fragility that they are.

CECIL: Do you have someone to hold at night? Pull them close, and fear for when they are gone. Be thankful you have someone to fear for.