Artwork By Nataliya Mashinskaya

His father's last gift

Not Aurora-related, but I really like your answer in the recent OSPod about just clicking w/ the ace label but not having that same certainty about romantic orientations, because I think I'm that but in reverse-- it's only important to me that I'm aromantic.

So, thank you for putting it into words ^^ Have a nice Pride Month!

Ultimately we all gotta remember that labels are tools, not obligations. If a label helps you understand your wants and needs better, fuck yeah! If the label instead feels like a prison denying you growth and possibility, it's not helpful and you can drop it!

I think our growing awareness of the diversity of human sexuality and gender identity has sort of resulted in a feeling of "everyone has a special box they fit in with a flag and a community and a predictable suite of wants and needs". The problem is, almost nobody understands themselves down to the minutest perfect detail with no possibility of error, growth or change. What is an orientation, if not a broad-strokes categorization of "what kind of relationship would make this person most happy"? How bizarre is it to try and lock down a concept THAT complicated on the first try??

There's a joy in recognition of "oh, this is ME, I didn't know it was an option but there I am." In my experience it's a sense of sudden freedom - specifically the freedom to simply exist as one naturally and comfortably exists. But trying on labels that DON'T invoke that feeling can sometimes result in the exact opposite sensation; rather than giving oneself freedom, it feels like it's cutting off possibility. For instance, "am I gay? Then I guess I can never find men attractive, that's a shame…" is an indicator that this label may not be helpful to apply. Accuracy is not really the concern, but the "everyone has a box" mindset makes it SEEM like the concern. It's not about being comfortable or fulfilled, but about being accurately categorized.

Very personal anecdote on that note: I, like many people, spent some time questioning my gender. I have been tomboyish since pretty much day one, and was frequently bullied for unladylike activities as well as broadly battered by garden-variety middle-school misogyny. I was made to feel wrong for pursuing the interests I had while being female - whether that was sports, STEM, gaming, tree-climbing, wearing unfashionable pants, or a million other completely genderless things I happened to enjoy. It made it difficult for me to tell if I felt unhappy because I was being MADE unhappy, or if it was because I was fundamentally wrong about myself and could not be happy as I was. Eventually I concluded that every time I thought "maybe it would be better if I was a boy", it was in the specific context of "so I could do <thing I wanted to do>" or "so people would stop being shitty to me about <innocuous thing>". I realized I enjoyed being perceived as a girl and I enjoyed being capable of "manly" things. I liked being strong, gruff, loud, chivalrous, reliable - and I liked being pretty and having long beautiful hair and nice boobs. Admittedly it took me having an honest to god stress dream about growing a beard to finally shake the intrusive thought of "what if I'm wrong about everything and I really CAN'T be a girl while liking these things???" Internalized misogyny can fuck you up pretty hard, but in hindsight, the gut-wrenching disappointment I felt whenever I contemplated that possibility was a good sign that it didn't personally fit me. The trans friends I discussed this with affirmed my conclusion - "dread" is not the appropriate response to self-discovery in the pursuit of happiness. In my case I had simply been told "you can either be a girl OR you can do all this cool shit you like" and all I ever wanted was both - abandoning either one felt like giving up on something important to me. I did the gender questioning, concluded I was a cis woman, and then stopped thinking about it. And that was fine.

This is why I think the label "queer" is absolutely invaluable. I may not know exactly what my romantic orientation is and I don't know what exact subgender I could be classified as with "girl but in a dude way", but I know I'm sure as hell not what society assumed I should be. I don't know what box I fit in, but I'm dead certain where I DON'T fit. Who cares about the specifics? Nobody can know me better than I know myself, and demanding categorization I can't provide helps nobody and stresses everybody. The core desire of the queer community is to be able to exist in peace and pursue happiness. If a label helps you do that - an acknowledgement that you are known, seen, and not wrong or broken to exist as you do - then that's perfect. But if you don't NEED to categorize yourself in certain ways to be happy, you do not have to. Overlabeling can stress you out, and sometimes "oh no, what if I'm <thing> and I'll NEVER be able to be happy unless I COMMIT to that???" can be a very dangerous and intrusive headspace to spiral into. Things done in pursuit of personal fulfillment can NEVER be treated as obligations. It's okay to not be sure, and it's okay to NEVER be sure.

sketch……

the transition from people needing each other to wanting each other is literally one of my greatest weaknesses that shit makes me want to walk into the sea and sit on the ocean floor for a thousand years

arthuriana and swords<3

(or ellian’s procrastinating so it’s time to talk about my favorite swords!)

The most famous of them all is Excalibur (or Caliburn depending on the text, however some argue that Caliburn is an entirely different sword) and i get it — it’s the sword in the stone, the sword that is proof of Arthur’s heritage and legitimacy over Camelot. What’s interesting is that a lot of other medieval texts (Layamon’s Brut and Wace’s Brut) describe Arthur’s childhood as one in which that he was always royalty, or at least, was aware of it — Malory’s Le Morte and possibly Suite du Merlin from the Vulgate (don’t quote me on this it’s been a year since I last read Suite du Merlin) discuss over how Arthur grew up alongside Kay under the tutelage of Sir Ector. Various different texts have different reactions towards Arthur pulling out Excalibur — some have it that the nobility fell in line right away and others have it in that there was ultimate discourse that erupted forth as there was disbelief that the squire of Sir Kay WAS the person who truly pulled the sword out, and thus, belonging to the throne.

That being said there isn’t much talk of Clarent, which is another sword of Arthur’s. Clarent is not a sword used to fight with — Clarent is the sword that Arthur uses to KNIGHT people with. It’s a purely decorative sword that is symbolic more than anything. And yet, THIS is the sword that Mordred (and sometimes Guinevere) steals in medieval texts and uses against Arthur at Camlann. THIS is the sword that Mordred swears his kingship on and his inheritance to the throne. The implications that it is a CEREMONIAL SWORD (that was thus used in the knighthood of Mordred itself) being used to kill Arthur is thus… it speaks a lot about the mortality of kingship and just how Arthur, at the end of the day, despite being king is also a man, and also one that can be disposed of, and that while Excalibur may have been the one to herald the start, it is Clarent, purely decorative and ornamental and political, is used once again to throw Britain into ruin.

Shoutout also to THE best swords though: Galatine and Secace. Galatine belongs to Gawain and is of equal power to Excalibur — the Lady of the Lake gifted it to Gawain as being the other half of Excalibur. Personally, it cements my own idea in that Gawain, Arthur’s beloved nephew and one of his most trusted advisors, was always meant to be his heir. Secace is Lancelot’s sword and in true Lancelot fashion he only named his sword because everyone else was and he didn’t want to be left out. The Red Hilt Sword (which belongs to Lancelot) is discussed here and here by my beloved friend Lou Gringolet.

OK finished. This is gonna sound real funny but i did all this to put chest hair on Maggy yet i could not find it in my heart to do so. he is smooth on a spiritual level. I put that magic on him though!

画完了！是黑军团，为了卡杨那一格醋包了四盘饺子 ​​​

Recently with Arcane ending and the backlash/critics the second season received I've come to feel like it's even harder to start writing and creating art (as in, "if even people on that level aren't perfect, what chance do I have of making something truly good?"). How do you deal with this feeling, to start creating, knowing all the mistakes you're gonna have to make?

Well that's an interesting question. I think Arcane is actually a really good example for this. Because as far as I can tell, everything Arcane did with its story was, from the creators' perspective, a success.

I didn't see any glaring mistakes in Arcane season 2. I just saw a lot of decisions that served the themes they wanted to explore - love being unbreakable even when the participants have hurt each other unfathomably, sisters and sister cities falling naturally back into care and alliance when faced with an outside threat, the blinding allure of vengeance and rage and how it's a trap that must be actively escaped.

I think it's always important to meet a story where it's at. "I wanted the story to be a different story" is never a useful criticism. A storyteller needs to tell the story they think should be told. I think Arcane is throwing some people because season 1 in isolation looked like it could have been setting up some different threads - I was expecting them to more thoroughly explore the class divide in Piltover and Zaun and how they could navigate mending their relationship after so many atrocities and injustices inflicted on Zaun, but instead they used the sister cities as a mirror for Vi and Powder, and Vi and Powder are two people who love each other and have hurt each other and despite that will never stop being sisters, so that gets reflected back into Piltover and Zaun. I don't think that's a perfect analogy, but I do think it's the analogy they were going for.

A story cannot be every story. They picked the story they wanted to tell and executed it in the time they had, and I think they did good. That's a lesson we can all internalize as artists; my art, once created, cannot contain every possibility it held before it existed. And even if I fulfil my vision as closely as possible, some people are going to wish I'd done something else. And if those people have such a strong vision of the story they wish I'd told instead, it sounds like they should probably tell that story, since it's already taken shape in their mind. "I wish this story had scrapped its plans and themes and explored this OTHER idea" isn't useful as a criticism, but it is a very powerful artistic motivator.

Slowly making my way through the TOTK B roll stream, had a few thoughts on the emptiness of the sky islands. In a way, would it not be more surprising if there were more remains to be seen? Ignoring the whole 'it's a game, decisions were made by the developers' bit, nature can take over surprisingly quickly in the right circumstances. In a way, it's more surprising so much survived in BOTW (like the bomb hut ruins. Fire damaged wood? Should be gone in a decade or two anyway). (contd)

So the thing about the Sky Islands in Tears of the Kingdom is that, not only are the ruins fairly well-preserved - presumably due to having been in the Sacred Realm for the last 10,000+ years - but even with them damaged and tumbledown, it's fairly clear from the layout of the islands and their structures that they were not residences. That's not something that would've been lost to erosion and time, that's something foundational to the architecture of the place.

When the game designers want to show a place people live on the surface of Hyrule, they hit a few key points: distinct-looking homes with beds, places that make food, and an inn for travelers. The buildings are different sizes, decorated or personalized by the residents. They're laid out relative to one another in a way that allows for easy, convenient traversal. It's intentional design that makes the villages feel lived-in, cozy, and worth protecting.

Inside the buildings, little details show the presence of living people, even if the building is empty at the time. Table settings, notebooks, pictures on the walls. They feel like they've been shaped by the influence of people, living and working and customizing their environment.

These are all, to be fair, things that we wouldn't expect to last very long if the town fell to ruin. When we explore the sky islands, we aren't expecting to find well-preserved paper maps or notebooks or anything. But if they were lived-in - if they were Zonai population centers rather than temples, ritual centers and factories - that would still be reflected in the basic layout of the structure itself. A residence is designed to accommodate for every basic need, meaning we'd expect the buildings to have places for them to sleep, to eat, and to relax. On the Sky Islands, we find none of these things.

The most common buildings on the sky islands are these isolated stone one-room ruins. They look and feel like storehouses - a few pots, some crumbled masonry. No doors or interior rooms for privacy, no comforts, no sign of a place to sleep, no adjoining buildings. These things were never homes.

The Great Sky Island is the only really plausible candidate for a place the Zonai might've actually lived, being about town-sized with several buildings, but it's not laid out like one. The buildings are either small one-room storage sheds or the massive Temple of Time, and there's no sign of other specialized buildings that could have been used for things like food, rest or other necessities. The Great Sky Island feels like a large, beautiful public park built grafted onto the Temple of Time.

The larger dungeons are more internally complicated, but not in the way that residences are complicated. The water dungeon looks like some kind of huge open park - wide avenues, plazas, devices built for mobility. It feels like a place meant to be traversed and admired, not stayed in.

The wind dungeon is more clearly built as a weapon platform, nowhere we expect people to live. It makes sense that it feels sterile and lifeless.

The larger, more complicated sky islands are also designed for clear utility. The spheres are some sort of celestial observatories, featuring a control system, a treasure chest, and nothing else.

Wildcards like Lightcast Island were clearly built to serve a single purpose - in this case, a lighthouse and attached microdungeon - but contain no signs of life. Zonai came here for a reason, but they didn't stay.

The glide challenge islands are visually impressive, but ultimately the rings are empty - they don't even have structures on them. They exist for the dive challenge and nothing else.

Same deal with the labyrinths, which exist explicitly as puzzles and challenges.

The mines in the depths are also clearly structured for utility - storerooms, construct part repositories and a lot of conveyer belts for moving zoanite. The purpose of the building is very clear just from the layout, and these are not places where anyone was supposed to be staying outside of work hours.

This, along with the layout of towns on the surface, shows that the designers are very good at constructing architecture that reflects the in-story utility of a place, which means the lack of signs of life in the sky islands is not a limitation of the console or the imagination of the artists - it's an intentional design choice.

The end result of all of this? The Sky Islands feel like somewhere that the Zonai built and visited, but not where they lived. They feel cold and unwelcoming and liminal. There's no sense of loss or tragedy, just a feeling of emptiness - people used to come here, but they don't anymore. There's none of the poignancy of an empty dining table's unused place settings or an abandoned child's toy. None of the Sky Islands that descended during the Upheaval were places where the Zonai lived. At the peak of their power they were mistaken for gods, a massively thriving technologically advanced civilization - I'd expect their homes to be cities, towers of jade and marble bustling with the activity of a post-scarcity utopia. None of the Sky Islands show us anything like that, and given how well the designers can portray a lived-in place even without any people in it, this is assuredly intentional. The Zonai built and visited and used the Sky Islands we can explore, but as a whole they lived somewhere else.

But throughout it all, there's this pervading unease - the fact that there's no obvious tragedy makes the sky islands feel more unnerving. We know just enough of the story to infer that something happened to the Zonai - something bad, if we read into Rauru and Mineru's reaction - but whatever it was left no scars. The Zonai constructs don't even realize anything's amiss. The buildings have been damaged only by time and gravity; the forges and mines and observatories and temples are silent and abandoned, like the Zonai all went home one night for dinner and just never came back.

The Sky Islands don't feel dead, they feel lifeless. A place people passed through but didn't leave their mark on. When Link traverses the islands, he isn't just alone - he doesn't even have the comfort of signs of life. The only evidence he has that anyone ever came to these islands are the fact that somebody built them in the first place. They left no marks, no art, no notes, no diaries, no toys, no graffiti. They're just gone.