kiwikarshal
183 posts
Latest Posts by kiwikarshal
happy (late) anniversary to funger! you weird, wonderful game I can never recommend to a majority of people.
The way this piece had a chokehold on me. but it's DONE and it'll be a print :))
close up under cut:
Junkies and dark priests
Why isnt there more crossovers between funger 1 and 2? And why arent they modern too?
The Chosen Four
Earthbound has had a quite big impact on my art journey. When I was a young teen, I would visit Starmen.net regularly to check amazing fan art EB fans would make and learn from them. It was nostalgic to draw some EB fan art again.
My housemate reminded me of a flashbulb memory I have that I really wish I had a photograph of because it would be a magnificent image to inflict on the internet at large with Zero Context, but I'll try to describe it here, and then draw it after dinner.
Image Description:
As seen from about three feet off the ground: Interior, the den of an american suburban house built at the height of the atomic age and still decorated like it years later. There's dark wood paneling about halfway up the walls that offsets the almost neon pink-orange light of late sunset visible through the large window. Every object in the room is highlighted by the last of the sunlight. The only other light in the room is a TV set that was manufactured the same year Howdy Doody debuted on air, now broadcasting PBS Newshour in black and white.
Closest to the viewer, there is a small end table with a Nearly Full Martini glass, and a Half-empty glass Martini Pitcher, indicating that two of the five martinis it holds have been poured out.
Just behind it, an old man sits in a chair that was bright green and yellow when it was new but is now more Grellow. The man is in his mid-sixites, somewhat heavyset, with a full head of snow-white hair and thick glasses. He's wearing a dark brown tweed suit with leather elbow patches, and a white cotton button-up. He's watching the news with a calm and dispassionate demeanor. Tired, but still engrossed with the world's events. He's wearing dark brown penny loafers and garish argyle socks.
Behind him is a couch that is a matched set with the armchair, with the same Grellow chevron pattern, but there is a very large crochet afghan that has been spread out over the back to be decorative and maybe protect the couch from it's current occupant: a 120lb Wolf Hybrid.
She's seated lengthwise on the couch, like she had also been watching PBS Newshour, posed like a sphynx. She's close in wieght to the man, and definitely taller than him if she stands up, with a dark gray agouti coat and a bit of white countershading from the trace of domestic dog in her. She's turned her head to the viewer, bright yellow eyes focused on them, and the fur of her head and neck haloed with the sunset. She is pleased to see the veiwer, which means most of the teeth in her lower jaw are visible in her canine grin. The effect is very menacing if you don't know her.
Clutched rather neatly between her front paws is a second, identical martini glass, only not nearly quite so full as the old man's.
Title: "Oh, I didn't think you'd be back for another hour/GODDAMIT EDWIN"
OMG THANK YOU FOR AMOST 200 FOLLOWERS?? Not sure what yall found in my schizoposting, but im really flattered!! :3
Again, sketches from boring ahh uni classes and one normal
Character, book, and author names under the cut
Andrew Minyard- All for the Game by Nora Sakavic
Neil Josten- All for the Game by Nora Sakavic
it's hilarious how if you do any amount of research into life or death melee combat the prevailing themes that emerge are that
you're gonna get tired very quickly
tired leads to injured, injured leads to tired, tired leads to—
you're not gonna be as composed as you expect
humans are more fragile than you think and also more durable than you think. both are true and neither stop them from dying of an infection later (DO NOT GET BITTEN)
DO NOT GET STABBED (generally good life advice)
DO GET A SPEAR
knights are faster than you think
Fucked up how humanity discovered electricity and radiation and made machines and learned to make airplanes and cured diseases and our takeaway isnt that "Some Magic Is Real And Here's Why", but that magic is fake this is big boy science and it's totally not magical
Fear and Hunger: The Major Arcana Collab Revelation!
Greetings, there have been some problems and delays to post it on the 2nd of March, we apologize for that. But thank you to everyone who have shown interest in this collaboration! Here are the results and credits to.
@calatarii - The Fool
@heartokei - The Magician
marshallpapu777 (twitter) - The High Priestess
@tactical-shovel - The Empress
@.9sy - The Emperor
Bunny_babbits (twitter) - The Hierophant
@giantenemykrab - The Chariot
gummrt (twitter) - Justice
KingJoshuaArt (twitter) - The Hermit
@fresasconcremaart - Strenght
Centipede_Zeri (twitter) - The Hanged Man
Kaijoo__ (twitter) - Death
@santa-lilio-sangre - The Devil
@ambiguousnothing - The Tower
@prcyyyy - The Star
@volcamluz - The Moon
@ash-underdash - Judgement
@peachfruitcake - The World
Better quality of the pieces here.
you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.
bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.
this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?
so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."
you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.
you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.
but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.
quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.
you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.
you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?
I sent a letter today - something I haven’t done for years
It’s full of plastic bread clips
