I’ve found some unfinished ironfam sketch on my computer and decided to make it complete So here it is! I’m posting something eventually, yay
the same place three years apart
you love so fiercely you make me feel stronger you make me feel safe
Self indulgent critical role art moment. Beau and yasha said lesbian rights 💪😔
“I hope that in the future they invent a small golden light that follows you everywhere and when something is about to end, it shines brightly so you know it’s about to end. And if you’re never going to see someone again, it’ll shine brightly and both of you can be polite and say, “It was nice to have you in my life while I did, good luck with everything that happens after now.” And maybe if you’re never going to eat at the same restaurant again, it’ll shine and you can order everything off the menu you’ve never tried. Maybe, if someone’s about to buy your car, the light will shine and you can take it for one last spin. Maybe, if you’re with a group of friends who’ll never be together again, all your lights will shine at the same time and you’ll know, and then you can hold each other and whisper, “This was so good. Oh my God, this was so good.””
For better or worse.
The Adventures of the Darrington Brigade takes place about 10 years before Campaign 2.
So, while all this is happening:
Fjord is a young sailor in Port Damali, and has probably just met Vandren and joined his crew
Beauregard is an angry young teenager chafing under her parents’ rules in Kamordah
Veth is a teenager being teased by her brothers in Felderwin. She might have just met a nice boy called Yeza.
A young Jester is starting to play pranks on the patrons of the Lavish Chateau.
Lucien is a young man/teenager with unknown hopes and dreams.
Caduceus is alone in the Blooming Grove, perhaps starting to get worried about his family.
And Bren Ermundrud is 23, and catatonic in an asylum, where he’s been held for the past 6 years and will continue to be for another 5.
‘ID: excerpt from ‘Mayakovsky” a poem by Frank O’Hara
“Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again,”]
Lola Ridge, from To The Many; The Collected Poems of L. R.; “Reveille,”
at least they’re stuck together.
Come. It’s morning. Let me brush the stars From your hair.
— Noelle Kocot, “Sappho to Erinna,” 4
#ApocalypsePride