Dogs reacting to their name being called
(via elbombo)
Bel.
art blog: bel-luppi.tumblr.com
art blog: bel-luppi.tumblr.com
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this tiktok screenshot ruined my life i need to see the serbian pigeon movie so so badly but it doesn’t exist it’s so foul to make this bad of a point with something so cool and then take it away from me.
Tiktok marvel fans really will be out here like “movie fan SHOCKED because i’d rather watch superhero movie #54 in blue and not a sensual 1987 french horror film about a man discovering his wife may not exist set in what is gradually revealed to be a space station” as if you’re supposed to agree that superhero movie #54 is the clear winner in this comparison
Love the idea of a story about a complex issue that’s told from the perspective of something that cannot comprehend or care about the issue. The way the story would be sliced up and moments that a human would consider pointless would be focused on because the pigeon happened to be there would be hype as fuck
Ok FINE I made the movie poster of it
Mališa, otherwise known as Little One, is a pet pigeon owned by a conservative butler of the Austro-Hungarian aristocracy. She is loved, and she is pampered— until her owner is murdered in cold blood, and she is left to fend for herself in Sarajevo.
In the wilds of the city, she feeds from the poor, working nationalist radicals, and the vieux riches alike.
To Mališa, there are no ethical concerns. No politics. No burgeoning nationalism.
There are only hands that feed her, and hands that do not.
This is compelling. Consider me fucking compelled.
(via likeyua)
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A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one
Nobody in your small coastal village has ever seen the Godmark that you were born with. It’s a dark russet sequence of criss-crossing lines, with a vertical arrowhead on the left and a circle on the right, just over where your brow meets your temple. Some of the traders who come down from the mountain say it looks like one of the scripts used in the hinterlands, but not a language that any of them recognize.
“If she’s got the temperament for it, she should try her luck inland,” they advise. “No point her starting a temple here if she’d find her people elsewhere, with a little searching.”
At first, your parents are reluctant to send you away. Though you’re well-behaved and diligent in your chores, you’re a sickly child with no God to worship. And besides, you’ve always been the dreamy type–inclined to lose track of time watching the path of rain droplets chasing down the window, or the fronds of an anemone as it sways in a rock pool.
Instead, they send you to the temple of the Storm to learn all you’ll need for your own God. You are happy there, for a time: making up beds and serving food to the castaways who pass through, keeping vigil at the lighthouse, burning incense and praying with the loyal widows and orphans of the drowned.
One such widow, an old, old lady, touches the mark on your forehead. “I recognise those letters. We wrote this way in the town where I grew up, way off past the mountains.”
Your heartbeat quickens. “What does it say!?”
She squints, eyes engulfed by wrinkles and hidden behind smudged glass. “A… Ar… Oh, I can’t remember how to speak it. I left before I learnt my letters properly. There was a war, you know. But I remember,” she says, mistily, “the most beautiful pink and white flowers used to grow, on the borders of the wheat fields…”
You try to ask more questions, but remembering the war distresses her, and so you speak of other things. When she’s drifted off to sleep, you get to your feet, go home and tell your parents: you are leaving in search of your God.
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Our son Sam has told us that the D&D art file we use for a screensaver on various devices bothers him.
Because it makes him frustrated that he can’t look at some of them longer. He wants to know what is happening in some of them.
I told him that is one of the reasons we play Dungeons & Dragons, so we can go find out together, in our collective imagination.
Not really D&D related- but I feel compelled to add to this that not only are these GORGEOUS pixel arts- they are also in fact not animated. There are no frames used. There’s no extra pieces of art. Just one layer.
These pieces are so old that they stem from a time where animating cost way too much memory and/or only 256 colors could be used at one time, so the motion is achieved by ‘color cycling’. Half the available colors would be reserved for that very color cycling. It’s mchecking bonkers, please go watch this video if you feel like learning the technical details of how these artworks were made!
They were screensavers that would match the actual time of day that you were in. Somehow. Just by cycling color palettes. Wild shit.(Especially relevant time stamps for color cycling: 5:50, 9:55, 37:26, at 49:54 he gets into the technical side of HOW this even works)
Yup.
I’ve always enjoyed how they depicted some of the landscapes at different times of the day/weather/season.
Like these two areas. Daytime and nighttime at the village by the waterfalls.
And the high mountains hidden by rain in one and visible in the other.
yall r gonna post a man’s entire portfolio of art and not give credit?
anyways these images are by mark ferrari, a color cycling pixel art master, you can check them out in their html color cycling forms, with sound effects and ability to change the time of day of the image, here and here
(via pearthery)
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The Church of Unending Illusions
This is an artwork called Mirage by Kent Karlsson, one of the features in the sculpture route called Konstvägen sju älvar in Sweden.
(via likeyua)
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More fat characters who are complex heroes, serious love interests, funny without mentioning their weight, brooding anti-heroes, compelling antagonists, random bystanders without comments toward their looks
(via smooth-noob)
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“The oldest olive tree in the world located on the island of Crete. It is estimated to be as over 3,000 years old and still produces olives.”
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gotta share @telesilla’s tags -
#that was (give or take) around the time of the bronze age collapse #crete was no longer a major player #and the known world was kinda in turmoil #and yet someone planted an olive tree #i’m not saying there’s a direct parallel #but you know…systemic collapse thanks to many things including climate change #and it sucked for a lot of people #but they still needed olive oil #and idk man…maybe plant a tree #because the world has ended so many times #but the tree is still here #and so are we
the world has ended so many times
but the tree is still here
and so are we -
idk what traumatized or mentally ill person needs to hear this but dreams (especially the really disturbing ones you dont want to talk about to anybody) arent some deep peek into your psyche or a sign of your True Desires or whatever theyre quite literally your brain making fruit salad with whatever it can find on the shelf. just putting all that shit in a blender and hitting obliterate. its fine, youre fine, youre not a weirdo for it
(via rogueninja)
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So, I was thinking about how Vee’s siblings are at the University of Wild Magic now.
Now, of course, basilisks are feared on the Boiling Isles because they drain/eat magic. Which made me wonder if they were staying there for protection, as the University is controlled by people who are not prejudiced to them.
But I just realized!!!
They’re security staff!!!!!
Not just in the “guard the Headmaster” sense, either!
Think about it. Even in a controlled setting, magic has the potential to go hair wire and become dangerous.
In the highly experimental University of Wild Magic, however?
Student: Um, is that supposed to be smoking?
Eda: Yeah, no. *shouts* Code Buffet!!!
*basilisks come slinking down for num nums*
I’d just like to add, while likely unintentional this seems reminiscent of the Trouble Detectors at Hexside:
A pair of demons who can magically smell things… One tries to prevent chaos from happening, the other keeps it controlled! One pair herds and detains kids like animals, the other is animalistic and averse to capture and imprisonment, having been on that end themselves.
One is evidently expensive (note they’re absent the same episode Hexside is struggling with funds, and only return when someone rich like Odalia calls for them) while the other isn’t, as far as we know. One pair is uptight and strict, with masks and uniforms to conform, the others are relaxed and letting their true selves show despite having the ability to shapeshift. One helps feed kids to big a monster while the other just eats their magic gone awry.
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