#nem forced me to do this 2023
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Everybody's So Creative: Nem's Cursed Art Contest 2023
MAKE WAY... THE RESULTS ARE HERE ‼️
Congratulations to @robo-milky for taking the cake with their wonderfully blursed entry, The Horse Was So Hungry He Could Swallow A Jester. Do contact me wherever and whenever you like when you wish to claim your prize ^^
[ Please be careful when clicking on that link /j ]
I cannot bring myself to put the entry up on this post, but do believe me when I say that I wept upon seeing our beloved Diasomnia freshmen's form splayed on that white background. No word in the English Lexicon can describe the rollercoaster of emotion I felt when my Minecraft Obsidian block orbs gazed upon this wretched masterpiece. Dare I say, I wished not to witness anything else after that. Truly phenomenal.
"Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it." Nem weeps inside her Honda Civic, parked at an empty Denny's parking lot in the middle of Texas. This was truly Twisted Wonderland.
In all seriousness, thank you to all those who participated! All of you killed it in all honesty 😭 Some entries live in my head rent free, haunting my headspace for eternity ✨
[ SIDENOTE ]: I'm still debating if the second award should be given. If I still have time before uni starts, then I may bestow another winner slot 👀 Additionally, an Honorable Mention slot may be added as well... Those additional winners will be tentative for now!!
#nem forced me to do this 2023#winners post 💥#words cannot explain how everytime i look at sebek... i see your entry chris#this poor guy 😭😭
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In which Rev, in under an hour, decides to participate in @nem0-nee 's cursed challenge by drawing Nemo in the middle of a liminal space (which is actually a flooded train station but shhhhh)
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Entry for @nem0-nee ‘s Cursed Art Contest <3
Title: The Horse Was So Hungry He Could Swallow a Jester
Medium: Procreate, hard brush, MLP TTF
“This is an edgy piece created by our lovely cat maid artist, who spent countless days and nights contemplating their submission. What is the meaning of cursed? How far can it be pushed? Whenever robo-milky thinks of cursed, the first thing that comes to her mind is… old Deviantart. How daring! How bold! To take inspiration from something that nearly everyone agrees to be a cesspool of questionable fetish art.”
[PNG if you want 💚]
#you can send me to hell for this now#[🃏] nemo#nem forced me to do this 2023#twisted wonderland#twst#twst oc#twst ocs#twst nemo#twst sebek#sebek zigvolt#twst cursed images#twst meme#twst shitpost
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Also a quick entry for @nem0-nee 's cursed art contest, this came to me in a vision i am geniuenly sorry for drawing this 💀
I didn't draw the wonder bread i got lazy so png for that:
#nem forced me to do this 2023#“do you guys still love me after this”#other characters#Twisted wonderland oc#Twst oc#Nemo#My art
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it is time... jesters, fools, and victims of the clownery, i present to you.. my entry for @nem0-nee's cursed art challenge:
beautiful, isn't it.
i call this one the Ursulazul, brought to me in a thought as i paced around my room thinking of what the most cursed thing could possibly be 😌 it brings to mind an incident azul could have had if it was his first time using makeup 😌😌😌
below is my friend's WONDERFUL addition to the accursedness, and the visualization i put together in about a minute
(P.S. the first drawing is NOT traced!! i put my entire backbone into that thing 🥺)
#my stuff#calira arts#octavinelle#azul ashengrotto#nem forced me to do this 2023#DO YOU LIKE IT? >:DDDDDDD#*honks clown nose and runs away*
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Welcome!
Please witness this heart wrenching story for yourself.
Enjoy~
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Name: RIP Diasomnia, Crowley's gonna have a breakdown lol
Description: The artist believes this is the artwork is descriptive enough on its own.
Inspired by: People loosing their minds over hyper realistic cakes.
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Name: A day later
Description: Sebek has had enough.
Memes used for the poses:
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Final thoughts from the artist:
This has been very fun~
I hope this is to your tastes and that it gives you a good laugh @nem0-nee >:D
#nem forced me to do this 2023#twst oc#twst sebek#twst malleus#twst lilia#twst silver#twst meme#twst shitpost#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland
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A new job has opened up at “Nemo Nembear’s Pizzaria!”
Founded in 1973 by inventor and business man William “Dire” Crowley and his business partner, it’s our absolute pleasure to entertain the children of the world with our groundbreaking animatronics, delicious pizza, and much more! Our mascot, Nemo Nembear is our most popular animatronic along with being the face of the company
We are currently in the market for looking for a new security guard! The hours you will be working are from 12 am to 6 am and will be payed handsomely for it. The test run for the job is nine nights you have to survive!.....I mean, work! We can’t wait to see you there!
Oh! I almost forgot to say
The animatronics do get a bit quirky at night.......have fun!
this was made for @nem0-nee ‘s meme event! Hope you enjoy Nemmy Poo!
#I did not most of this!#I mainly took game assets and Nemo’s hair and put it on Freddy!#I did trace freddy’s face and put it on the notepad though#hope you like😈😈😈😈#nem forced me to do this 2023#nem 🎨
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Three Nemos
Three Nemos
See How They’re Cursed
See How They’re Cursed
@nem0-nee
(For The Cursed Art Contest. I used a base because I have art block rn HAHA—)
#Not a reference to Nemo's injury I promise—#Ty for hosting btw it was super fun!!#nem forced me to do this 2023#☾sous exists☾
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So. . .
Waz anyone gonna tell me Aiyuu waz in the Moonlit Bear music video?
"I cry, the bear was (not) crying too, The two fruits were also crying"
≻────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────≺
"Lying down outside the house is the corpse of a lone (caked ass) jester.."
≻────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────≺
Here iz my (cursed asf) entry 4 @nem0-nee 'z contest!! A Moonlit Bear redraw simply because I could. I would have edited Nemo'z dorm uniform but that would take 2 long and be way 2 hard,,,
Aiyuu would probably cry after thiz honestly (it'd scare me to so I guezz it'z fair)
+Bonuz image
"W-What the.. What a weird dream..."
#☆~songstress' ramblingz#☆~songstress' oc friendz#☆~songstress' art#☆~ aiyuu#nem forced me to do this 2023#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twst shitpost#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#(rambling over here >)#i waz determined to make it evillious related in some way#so the obvious solution waz thiz
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Anyway, submitting this edited version of Nemo with emoji hands for @nem0-nee’s Cursed Art Contest because I think it’s hilarious :D
#nem0-nee#nem forced me to do this 2023#drawing#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst oc#diasomnia
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The Starsail
Here's my Inklings Challenge (@inklings-challenge) for 2023! It's not exactly what I hoped it would be, but I don't see myself having much time to work on it over the next couple of days. I expect to be able to give it a more natural ending sometime soon, just not before the 21st, so look out for that.
Lieutenant Pekka met him at the atmospheric lock at the top of the gangway, saluting him sharply with the flat of his shimmering blade. “Welcome aboard, sir.”
“My ship in one piece, Thom?” Captain Vadya clapped him on the shoulder, the clang of his gauntlet star-hard against the links of the lieutenant’s mailshirt. Lieutenant Thom Pekka hurried after him as he moved up the deck toward his office, filtering through the list of data hovering in front of them at a practiced speed.
“Mostly, sir. The sails are fixed and replaced with new synthweave, the hull has been modified with facet-steel, and the kitchen has been restocked with…” He made a face. “…The best ration-packs the Center has to offer. Quite a treat to look forward to, I’m sure. That nebula-rip tore through some roping, but we’ve got men working on it.” When the Starsail had limped into Sula’s main war-port in front of the Center of Administrative Warfare, they had feared the repairs might take weeks. Captain Vadya blew out a sigh of relief and turned a quick grin onto his first lieutenant.
“If some roping is all we lost, Thom, I’m a happy star-knight.” He continued to his office, the data visualization scattering away from the interference of his passage through it, and Pekka, with fond exasperation, swiped it back together again and pocketed the projector.
“Where are we off to now, Captain?”
Nem Vadya paused in front of his door. “That’s a good question, Lieutenant. It’s one I won’t answer until we’re well on our way. Just trust me, huh?”
Pekka was quiet for a moment. He’d been friends with Vadya since they were children. His trust was hardly in doubt. “Another disagreement with the Admiral, sir?” This came out tentatively, with just a hint of distaste.
Vadya’s grin this time was a bit more strained, but no one could have noticed except Pekka. “Believe that if you want. Let’s just say…clear the records of our ship’s departure, and mask our trajectory. This mission is…perhaps not advised.”
Pekka’s knuckles whitened. “Heading for danger, sir?”
Vadya laughed now. “Danger finds me, Thom, I promise you!”
“Yes, of course, sir,” Pekka agreed, knowing when to pick his battles with Captain Nem Vadya and already mentally reviewing their medical inventory.
Nem Vadya shut the door to his office and leaned against it with a sigh. He was back on his ship, the familiar blue waves of his wallpaper greeting him, and the vastness of space stretching out past his window beyond the lights of the war-port. Still, he was full of nervous energy that wouldn't be relieved by the wonder of space.
He reached into the pocket of his synthweave cape and took out his mother’s note.
My dearest Nem, it read,
I and your father are proud of your accomplishments in Sula District 3974, and wish we could have been there to greet your return in Sula proper, but unfortunately we were called away by your grandfather’s most recent crisis of health. I shall send another note concerning his state as soon as I can.
Of more pressing concern is the second letter included in this envelope. It has been four years since Zyn was taken into custody of the King’s Police, and in all that time I have not been able to gain entrance to see or speak to him. In the included letter is what I and your father wish him to know. With your advanced stature in the King’s Armed Forces, I have hopes that you will be able to give this letter to him. I know your opinion of your brother, but have pity on the grief of a parent, and do what you can.
Vadya pursed his lips. Thus had been the purpose of his meeting with Admiral Jent, which had come to naught; visiting with Zyn Vadya, traitor of the Galactic King, was firmly prohibited. “You know the rules, dear boy,” the Admiral had said, softening a bit. “Traitors, especially to the extent of your poor brother, are sentenced to a solitary life. That is their punishment.”
Vadya knew the rules quite well; he had never once wished to break them, much less for the sake of his murderous younger brother. But this letter from his mother, while restrained and pleasant, carried her unique brand of desperation; he could practically see her composure cracking.
His father had added a short post-script:
Nem, all of the above. I love you. I trust you to do what is right.
Which was about as wordy as his father got. It made Vadya’s heart warm; his father likely had written those words with hands aching from pulling sheets of facet-steel from the compressor for ten hours, and he’d probably had his customary glass of takka immediately afterward.
Vadya sighed and brushed his hair behind his shoulders, staring out at the void of space they’d soon be setting off into. 400 lightyears away the prison planet of Wintral slowly burned itself up beside the ever-expanded sun of the same name. And on that planet sat his younger brother, one-time failed assassin and revolutionary. And since there was no way to legally get their parents’ letter to him through the right channels, well…
Vadya would be leading his crew in an attempted prison break.
~~~~~~
By 21:00, the small mess hall was full, even with only the 14 crew members he’d chosen to accompany him out of the usual 35. They had gathered for dinner and celebratory drinks, cheering finished repairs and a fine cast-off. The depths of space were too dangerous to have real alcohol on-board, but the War Center had provided the standard limited amount of ferment-packets, which provided an extremely short-lived buzz that felt nowhere near the same.
Vadya watched as men and women laughed and clanged metal cups together, staring through the atmospheric shields at the stars passing by at a sedate pace. Whether they knew where they were going, or what they were in for, they were pleased to be off-planet after a week of inactivity.
Vadya had spent that week meticulously planning.
The mess hall was small and hot, and his flight uniform was stifling, even with his hair pulled back. He fidgeted. On Wintral, the prison had to be ten times this uncomfortable.
The thought made him still. His appetite, already small to begin with, was gone completely. He picked at the freshest of the ration-packets, and he had been doing so for half an hour without making much of a dent when there was an outcry on the other side of the mess hall. Vadya sighed, already moving to rise as Pekka hurried over to him, his eyes wide and his face contorted in that expression that meant he was apologetic but too duty-bound not to go through with the action.
“Captain, sir, midshipman Temner has captured a stowaway, sir.”
Vadya paused. “A stowaway? How did they get past the sensor beacons on the gangway?”
Pekka shrugged helplessly. “You’ll have to ask her, sir.”
Her. That made a bit more sense; Sula was not a planet known for its kindness to women and girls. After a short hesitation, he unbelted his sword and blaster-holster and set them on his chair. Pekka paled. “Sir…”
“Leave it to me, Lieutenant,” Vadya said gently but firmly, and moved past him to join the huddle of bodies that had formed on the far wall. When they noticed their Captain approaching, his crew swiftly made room. It was enough to let him see the ‘her’ they were all so curious about.
She was a young woman, barely more than a teenager, perhaps 20, if that. She crouched by the wall, hands wrapped defensively around a small roll, one that had already been micro-risen. Her clothing was odd, not at all what someone should be wearing when the radiation of an atmospheric shield was all that separated them from the vacuum of space—a white blouse, plaid skirt, and sensible shoes were all well and good, but not on a starship.
This was all somewhat unimportant against the obscenities she was yelling at them. She directed these first at the largest of the men standing nearby, then more fiercely at Vadya as he approached. He stopped, belatedly realizing just how this might look to her, then after some deliberation he knelt a few feet in front of her. She went pale and her mouth snapped shut, teeth grinding together. Her glare remained as fierce as before.
Now that she was quiet, he took the opportunity to speak. “I’m Captain Nem Vadya. You’re on the starship Starsail. I hear you’re a stowaway?”
Her hands clenched around the roll she gripped. “I’m not supposed to be here,” she bit out. “You won’t believe me, but I’m not supposed to be in this world.” She bit her lip. “I swear, I’m only on this stupid ship so I can get home.”
“The Starsail’s not stupid,” Vadya corrected absently, turning her claim over in his mind. He’d heard stories in the far reaches of the system, tales of portals and wormholes, and after everything he’d experienced, someone coming from another world wasn’t the oddest thing out there. But was she telling the truth?
He observed her for a moment—her curly hair slipping out of its bow, her cheeks flushed with anger and panic, the tear-tracks almost hidden on her face—and abruptly decided it didn’t matter. She was here, after all, and he had his own mission, and they wouldn’t be going toward a portal in the far reaches of space any time soon. If she wanted to get home, she’d have to find another way. For now, she was stuck here.
“Why did you choose this ship?” he asked as gently as he could. No doubt Pekka was already tallying up the amount of rations one extra woman would use.
She gulped. “I don’t know, it was just…the closest one. I would only have one chance.” She glanced at the group behind him. “And there were women, so I thought…” She trailed off, but he saw her point.
“Well, unfortunately, you chose wrong. We aren’t headed toward a portal, or a wormhole, or anything that will allow you to get back home.” He met her dark eyes, noting the fear and anger and utter, utter bewilderment there, and wished he could comfort her. “I cannot tell you anything else. My crew trusts me. Will you?”
Tense silence.
It was broken in only a few seconds as Litt, the navigator shouldered his slight frame through the crowd. “And what business do we have with her, a stowaway who doesn’t even dress for a spaceflight?” Vadya observed Litt for a second. Belligerent and hotheaded he was, but not merciless, even as he glared at the girl. And Vadya saw his point. Taking stowaways on a dangerous journey into the edge of known space was not ideal, but there was nothing else to be done.
Turning from the girl, he addressed the crew. “Our business, Litt, is to take care of people who come running to us for help. We can’t take her back now, anyway.” The obvious reason his crew would come to was the time wasted, and he didn’t say the unspoken part out loud–that this spaceflight was completely off the record. “Ruka.” He singled out one of the female crewmembers, one he knew would be a stern companion but not an unkind one. “Take the girl and find her a suit and some real food. She’ll bunk with you in the womens’ cabins. She says from another world; please explain anything she needs to know, using your own discretion. And keep her safe; she chose perhaps the worst ship possible to make her escape in.”
The girl lifted her chin and met Vadya’s eyes. “And a weapon? Could I be permitted one of those?”
He surveyed her: slim, almost delicately weak. But only almost.
He liked to think he had an honorable crew, but he knew what young men were wont to do for long voyages away from their home planets. And this girl was terrified, of him not least. The least he could do to gain her trust was to show some back.
“Ruka, give her one of your knives.”
The knife Ruka offered was a sensible pocketknife, a cheap one of Prithane make but imminently serviceable. One Ruka and her interminable sense of duty wouldn’t feel badly about dying at the blade of. The girl took it, looking relieved.
Ruka started for the door, but before she followed her, the girl turned to Vadya. “My name is Cassia. And…thank you.”
~~~~~~
It would take them time to get to Wintral, as well as many stops to refuel. Though Pekka didn’t know their exact destination, Vadya had given him information enough to allow him to make an accurate list of fueling stations and their general trajectory. Those fueling stations would only get more infrequent as they reached the edges of known space. Pekka was flitting about here and there stamping out the myriad of crises that came with crewing a warship with a skeleton crew of 14.
In general, the first few days passed in a peace so uncharacteristic that it was almost boring, and the crew was getting restless. There had been entirely too much time to think about the state of their mission and the mysterious stowaway from another world quietly keeping to herself in the women’s dormitories.
Vadya himself was not exempt from this, and sometimes wished that Thom was a little less capable just so that he had something to do other than sit in his office and stew over his mother’s letter. A week into their mission, he summoned Cassia to his office. She appeared at his door dressed in the standard silver armored flight suit—not entirely necessary inside the pressurized cabins, but a useful precaution to take.
He had prepared a carafe of coffee and poured her some. “Cream?”
She hesitated, but she seemed less suspicious than she had the last time they’d met. “Please.”
“I guess Ruka has put in a good word for me,” he chuckled.
Cassia sipped the coffee in lieu of an answer. “Why have you called me here?”
Vadya sipped his own mug of coffee and gathered his thoughts. “How did you get to Sula?” he asked first.
Cassia’s fingers went white at the knuckles. “Please don’t answer my question with a question, Captain.”
Vadya observed her—the meticulously combed hair, the brown eyes set in a round, pretty face. There was nothing at all, beyond her dark hair and relative short stature, to set her apart from the Sulian people. “I and my crew are setting out on a particularly dangerous journey,” he relented finally. “I wonder if perhaps you’ve been sent to help us with it.”
She scoffed. “Help you? I was walking home from work looking forward to seeing my sister when a wind swept up around me and dumped me in the middle of a back alleyway. I thought I was still at home until I saw…one of your kind, whatever you are.” Her voice trembled a bit. “It was autumn at home. My favorite season.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but he put it aside for now. “So it wasn’t a portal or wormhole which brought you here.” Not one he’d ever seen, anyway.
Her eyes flashed. “Well, what else could have? I’ve read Lovecraft! Lewis!”
He had opened his mouth to respond when a horn sounded through the speakers in his office, followed by the sound of running footsteps and Thom bursting through the door to pant out, “A sonar-dragon, sir, to port!”
Vadya tensed and rose, coffee and Cassia forgotten. “How large?”
Thom turned grim. “Large enough. Drij shot it in the eye as soon as it turned up but it’s stubborn.”
“Well, thank the stars for Drij’s aim,” Vadya muttered, heading for his armor and assembling it. “The shields?”
“Weak but holding.”
“Recharge them to full power.” Atmospheric shields wouldn’t keep out a physical obstacle larger than a small asteroid, but if they tuned them right it might affect the sonar-dragon’s hearing. “Cassia, stay here.”
“Don’t worry,” he heard her mutter under her breath, “do you think I’d go out there?” He grabbed two pairs of deafeners on his way out and threw one to Thom, who paled but clipped them onto his ears. Vadya kept his in his hand until he’d strode out on deck and faced the chaos that awaited.
A skeleton crew was little match for a sonar-dragon, but they were putting up a fine struggle. Blasters and starswords combined made up a formidable armory, but the sonar-dragon, as stated, was large enough that a crew of 35 would have been hard-pressed to keep it at bay. Starry mist streamed from the hole Drij had gouged in its eye, but the other was bright and golden and stared down Vadya as soon as he exited the cabin.
Vadya ignored it for now, taking a glance over his ship. The main-mast was in one piece and the synthweave sails were intact, though that hastily-repaired roping was showing signs of strain and fraying. Through the deafeners, he couldn’t hear the chaos, but he could certainly see it—and Litt’s body lying still against the navigation center in the middle, a wound in his head bleeding freely.
Vadya’s anger burned cold. He had chosen these knights for a reason—they would be the least likely to have something to lose in the event they didn’t return. But he hadn’t intended to get any of them killed, and by a sonar-dragon, at that.
The atmospheric shields glimmered above them, visible now that they’d been recharged to full power. The effect on the dragon’s hearing he’d hoped for didn’t seem forthcoming. His heart sank: there was only one tried-and-true method to slaying a sonar-dragon. With another burst of sharp anger Vadya threw the deafeners onto the deck and met the dragon’s gaze.
The sonar call of the dragon, though just on the edge of hearing, resonated through him and the ship’s hull, a pitch scientists had fought to explain for years. Immediately, the dragon’s mind—if it could be called that, for it was a mind as much as a sonar-dragon was really a dragon—touched his, sliding and slithering through his emotions and pulling on them one by one. The anger was the first to go numb, and then the concern for his crew, and the burning curiosity about Cassia, and his concerns for the quest ahead.
Vadya stood there silently struggling not to protest throughout.
Then the dragon found his memories of his brother and pounced eagerly. There went the hatred, gone cold and fizzling in his chest, and then the confused anger, and then the despair, and then the small bit of worry Vadya hadn’t even realized had been there until it went dark. The dragon stumbled over the tiny burning flicker of love still remaining and grasped at it, a bit lethargically, sluggishly, to swallow up.
No, Vadya willed as strongly as he could, no, you will not have that.
And now that the dragon was thoroughly sated, finally full, had gotten its meal, it relented. It backed away from the ship. Before it could go, Vadya wrenched on that mental line connecting them, bound together with the sonar hum, dragged the dragon’s form close enough to him that he could see the galaxy that swirled in its one remaining eye, and stabbed his starsword through its temple.
The emotions the dragon had just swallowed up were released as it died, filled Vadya until his legs were weak with all of them at once, like someone had wrung out a sopping sponge straight into his nerves, and someone shoved Vadya’s discarded defeaners over his ears just in time, as the dragon let out an angry bellow, its pitch—reputedly—enough to knock an entire crew unconscious.
The form of the dragon fell still and silent, and after a few minutes Vadya took off his defeaners. The crew followed suit, and the next thing Vadya heard was the cheering. Drij slapped his shoulder, Ruka saluted him sharply, Pekka hovered anxiously.
Vadya took a couple of steps away, feeling more worn-out than he could remember even after his most hard-won battle. His legs threatened to collapse under him, and seeing it Pekka threw an arm around his shoulders to support him. Just before he let himself be led into his quarters, Vadya threw a look at the dragon’s corpse. “Get that thing off my ship.” His voice was a little monotone, but he couldn’t muster up anything beyond the weariness and jittery nerves that had overtaken him.
Pekka took him to his office, but moved past it into his actual room. Vadya groaned as he lowered himself gingerly down onto his bed. “That was more difficult than the Admiral’s stories made it sound,” he admitted, grateful to be sitting.
Pekka looked him in the eye. “You killed a sonar-dragon. A big one, too.”
Vadya shrugged uneasily. “Don’t mention it.”
“Oh, we will.”
Vadya realized belatedly that he was shuddering and that Pekka’s arm was still wrapped around his shoulders. “Do you need anything, Captain?” he asked quietly.
“Just…time,” Vadya replied, equally as quiet. At least he was able to put a little bit of inflection into that one. “Thom, don’t ever get your emotions dragged out of you and then pushed back in all at once.”
“I’d sleep it off if I were you,” came a voice from the doorway connected to his office. Cassia, true to her word, must have stayed back. She held out a cup of coffee. “Here. I can’t see how drinking something warm won’t help. Wish it was tea, but then, I’m British through and through.”
He pushed past all the extra confusion everything she said seemed to cause him and took the coffee. All told, it probably hadn’t been thirty minutes since he’d made the carafe, and it was still warm and pleasantly bitter. It energized him just a little bit. He turned to Pekka. “Go and make sure they’ve gotten that quantum-warped dragon off this ship. And, Thom…Litt?”
Pekka gave him a sad smile. “Dead on impact, sir. The dragon got him over the head.”
“Tonight, cryofreeze, then. I’m sure he went out fighting. His family deserves a real body to mourn when we get back.”
“Aye, sir.” Then Pekka, with a courteous nod at Cassia, went out into the hall, leaving the two of them alone.
Cassia tapped the hilt of her knife nervously, shifting her weight back and forth. For his part, Vadya sat still, sipping his coffee while he waited for her to speak and feeling his emotions resettle themselves gradually, each slipping back into its spot one by one. “What was that thing?” she asked finally.
Vadya tried to stand, but his legs were still shaky, so he lowered himself back onto the bed with as much dignity as he could. “Sonar-dragon. They’re hungry all the time. They feed on emotions. Hence…” His gesture encompassed the whole of him, sitting there shuddering in his room instead of commanding his ship. “They aren’t actually dragons,” he thought to add. “Just appear that way. They need a form, you see.”
“And…will we come across another one?” she asked.
“We didn’t think we’d come across that one,” he pointed out. “Wintral is just on the edge of explored space, as distant from civilization as you can get without shoving it into the unknown galaxies. After the next refuel, we’ll enter warpspeed and it should take us three years. Warpspeed will protect us a bit. I don’t know what’s going to happen beyond that.”
Cassia shook her head. “Warpspeed? What’s…no, you said we’ll be on this quest for three years? And you told no one?” Her voice sharpened. “I really did choose exactly the wrong ship to board, didn’t I?”
“Don’t get angry at me,” Vadya snapped back. “This is a Royal Sulian Warship, you should have gone for a merchant vessel if you wanted a nice relaxing ride to the next wormhole to throw yourself into.”
Cassia looked as though she had a response to that, but she bit her cheek. “What’s the real reason you’re doing this? Going to Wintral?”
Vadya closed his eyes. “It’s complicated.”
“And I’m stuck here for the next three years,” Cassia reminded him, “so I’d like to know what the plan is. And I think your crew would probably like to know why they won’t see their families for six years, and why they're down one.”
Vadya gritted his teeth, already regretting his decision to take in this strange girl. “I’ll tell you, because you deserve to know. But you won’t say a thing to my crew.”
He explained his mother’s letter, and went—briefly, because his emotions about it still hadn’t settled—into his brother’s history, and his intentions to bring him the letter, since the proper channels didn’t seem to be an option. Any other intentions he had he kept to himself.
The coffee was long since gone, and Cassia fiddled with her empty mug. “It’s not much of a plan,” she commented finally.
“I know how I’m going to get in and how I’m going to get out, and what I’m there to do. That’s all I need.”
Cassia brushed her hair behind her ear, her dark eyes serious. “Back at home, I was studying statistics. If I had the numbers I could tell you the odds of this working to a decimal point. Right now I'll at least hazard a guess that they wouldn’t be high.”
Vadya stared at nothing. “I don’t need the exit plan to work. It’s just going to be me in there, anyway. The crew will be able to escape.”
“And when it’s reported that Captain Nem Vadya of the Starsail has been arrested for a security breach?”
Vadya met her eyes. “I’ll be thrown in jail to be forgotten, my brother will have heard from his parents for the first time in seven years, and all 13 crewmembers on board this ship will be able to plead complete and utter innocence. If you tell anyone, you’re endangering their lives.”
#inklingschallenge#theme: visit the imprisoned#theme: shelter a stranger#genre: space travel#team: lewis#story: incomplete
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How bad can it possibly be-
NEM'S CURSED ART CONTEST 2023
[ Duration: June 23 - July 7 (11:59 PM CST) ]
Thank you all for the support! It's my turn to give back to the community, but with a twist!
EDIT: PLEASE tag me in your submission as well!! Just to ensure I see it ^^
NOTE: The prizes won't be limited to the examples above. Illustrations, Splash art, PFPs, and chibis are also on the table!
[ Additional Help below the cut ]
Need inspo? - This contest is basically inspired by meme redraws I see circulating around Twitter. Below are my favorite examples:
[ EXTRA NOTES ]
Similar entries are inevitable to happen. However, if you firmly believe another participant has copied you, please bring it up with me privately first. I'll do my part in settling the matter,
Old drawings are permitted to be used as an entry.
Uploading someone else's work as your entry is PROHIBITED. Any attempts will lead to disqualification.
#nem forced me to do this 2023#here's the milestone special i was talking about cudhdjsh#anyway good luck to yall!!#will be updating if necessary
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#15 – “Palestina, ainda e outra vez”
8/11/2023
Boa 4a feira aos ouvintes da Radio Antena Livre!
Na anterior ocasião de vos falar, resumi a origem do conflito israelo/palestiniano. Relembro, data de 1948 a auto-proclamação do estado de Israel e o inicio da deslocação forçada de palestinianos, uns para fora da Palestina, exilados e refugiados, outros empurrados ora até uma pequena faixa entre o mar e a fronteira com o Egipto, a Faixa de Gaza, ora até à Cisjordânia. Gaza já é um território estreito, mas encolhe cada vez mais a cada conflito aberto entre o IDF (Israel Defense Force, a força de defesa Israelita) e os grupos de suposta libertação da Palestina. Parece que a cada ataque sobre Israel fazem um favor aos governantes israelitas, que em nome da “defesa”, passam ao ataque e aproveitam sempre para agregar mais território ao que já possuem.
Sobre o IDF, o exército de defesa israelita, teve a sua fundação a partir da associação de milícias de colonos armados, que passaram a ser forças militares regulares mas mantiveram em grande medida os hábitos e os métodos antigos. Aliás, este exército é o único que conheço que tem bulldozers blindados da Caterpillar, nada menos. Qual é o tipo de defesa que pratica este curioso material bélico? Arrasar edifícios palestinianos, bairros inteiros, aldeias, cidades, vilarejos, o que estiver no caminho. Em seguida aparecem os colonos israelitas e nascem novos colonatos. Tem sido assim a expansão territorial do estado de Israel, às costas da Caterpillar! Ah e estes bulldozers blindados também servem para esmagar pessoas, incluindo activistas pela Paz, como a americana Rachel Corrie em 2003. Aqui não há tolerância com pacifistas, até porque para Israel o conflito tem sido um meio, talvez o mais eficaz, para alcançar os seus interesses de expansão.
Tudo o que se sabe da história recente da Palestina tem que causar incómodo nas pessoas, quando ouvimos e lemos que, aparentemente, só há vitimas israelitas e só o Hamas é que é o mau da fita e a única parte que tem sangue nas mãos. Não é, Israel até leva avanço e tem muito mais recursos e mais letais. E tem também o apoio de grande parte da opinião ocidental. É fácil tomar partido pelos mais fortes, mas para mim e muitos, mesmo tantos judeus, a justiça e a democracia não têm cor, nem religião, nem partido. São para todos, sem excepção. E foi neste aspecto que, com alguma surpresa, dei por mim em sincera admiração por António Guterres, pelo seu discurso na Assembleia da ONU onde aponta o mal cometido de ambos os lados. E realmente Israel não se pode apresentar como a vitima que se tem de defender, enquanto tem a maior quota de responsabilidade sobre os acontecimentos na Palestina, desde 1948 até ao presente. E não há nenhuma solução, nenhum principio de paz viável, sem esta assunção, portanto chega de paninhos quentes sobre o assunto!
Já agora, não adianta chamarem-me anti-semita, um recurso muito utilizado contra quem critica Israel. Lembro que até Hannah Arendt, judia, foi acusada de anti-semitismo por se recusar a alinhar com o governo de Israel e seus interesses. E para tantos críticos pelo mundo fora, judeus e outros, a mesma receita e acusação, o tratamento de vitimização, sempre aplicado por lobos vestidos em peles de cordeiros.
Haja paciência e clareza, empatia e razão. Estejam de que lado estiverem, muita força para as verdadeiras vitimas, pouca para os opressores.
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A história de como eu estraguei tudo (pra não fazer de novo)
Nossa história começou devagar, na inocência de quem queria aprender a tocar atabaque e se viu sem o professor, que estava atrasado. Depois de um primeiro contato começamos a conversar.
Eu senti algo e você também sentiu. De noite te mandei mensagem e, por coincidência, sintonia ou interesse, você já estava olhando meu perfil.
Começamos a conversar e tentamos marcar de sair algumas vezes, mas não conseguíamos encaixar os horários. Eu sentia que o interesse estava aos poucos acabando, sem dar chance nem de começar - depois descobri que você gosta das coisas de um jeito devagar e discreto - nada como eu - e resolvi te procurar.
Era um sábado e eu, sem ter o que fazer, mandei mensagem pro Armando. Ele me disse que estava indo numa festa de aniversário com o Clock, o Murilo e o Augusto. Contra minha insegurança e minha vergonha, resolvi aparecer na festa. E foi uma delícia. Jogamos beer pong, conversamos sobre drogas e bebemos. Confiante e bêbada, bem do jeito que eu fico quando tenho meus acessos de confiança. E eu te mandei mensagem "tô em Barão, vamos se encontrar". E você pediu minha localização e foi me buscar. Eu entrei no carro, com um sorriso de quem queria aquele encontro já fazia tempo. Nem deu tempo de conversar e você me beijou. Que beijo gostoso, foi a minha reação. E a sua. Onde vamos? Eu não quero mais beber. Eu também não. Vamos ficar aqui. Estacionamos um pouco mais pra frente e fomos pro banco de trás. Conversar. Beijar. Tocar. Sexo? Não. Menstruação. Ele entendeu e respeitou. Mas o desejo ficou ali, explícito, escancarado. E já que não íamos fazer, começamos a conversar sobre.
Depois desse encontro no final de semana, marcamos de sair depois da gira, na terça seguinte - na festa de Cosme e Damião. E eu estava radiante nesse dia. Amar as crianças faz parte de mim e eu estava rodeada de espíritos infantis e sua energia tão pura, tão boa. Pedi um gole da sua água e você segurou minha mão quando fui te devolver a garrafa. Ali eu soube. Você também. A gira acabou, fui pra casa, tomei um banho, coloquei uma roupa. E a mensagem: o que você quer fazer? Quer beber...
Quero ir pro motel mesmo
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Vamos
Passamos as 3 horas seguintes sentindo prazer, descobrindo o corpo um do outro, trocando afeto e conversando.
Quando voltei pra casa naquele dia, eu já sabia que eventualmente essa história não ia dar certo. Mas eu ainda não fazia terapia e, como eu fui descobrir em 2023, esse meu medo de me sentir rejeitada faz com que eu force a situação até que isso de fato aconteça. Quando a gente começou, eu perguntei pros meninos da RiRep quanto tempo eles achavam que essa relação ia durar. Eles chutaram alguns meses, eu chutei um só. E eu errei por pouco.
Depois da nossa primeira noite juntos, começamos a conversar com certa frequência e a minha vontade de te ver só crescia. Mas eu queria deixar as coisas acontecerem. Ninguém no terreiro saberia disso e ninguém colocaria nosso nome na roda. Era essa a intenção.
Nos encontramos quando o Leo estava em Campinas. Eu fiz ele e o Vitão irem pra Barão só porque ficaria perto de você - contando que você iria me encontrar. E você foi. O Leo me deixou na sua frente e gritou "delivery" e você nunca esqueceu disso. Nesse dia transamos no banco de trás da sua caminhonete e você chegou em casa sem cueca e só percebeu de manhã que ela tinha ficado no carro.
Outro dia você me convidou para ir na sua casa, antes de eu ir pra uma festa. Bebemos vinho na sala e seus pais acabaram por aparecer antes do esperado. E eu conheci eles. Quando eles saíram de novo, nós fomos pro seu quarto transar e tivemos outra das nossas conversas que me surpreenderam.
A gente se conectava de um jeito novo e diferente pra mim. Você se sentiu a vontade pra me contar coisas da sua vida que as pessoas não sabem e fazer coisas comigo que fez pela primeira vez. E eu me sentia acolhida, desejada e segura.
Outro dia você saiu do churrasco em que tava duas da manhã e foi pro alma me encontrar. Eu tava com o Leo, bêbada, sendo expulsa do bar e você apareceu. Você não queria transar, você só queria me ver. E era tudo que eu precisava.
No último dia que a gente transou foi o dia que teve um casamento no terreiro. Você me contou que foi difícil se concentrar. Depois que eu cheguei em casa do trabalho, você viu meu story na piscina e respondeu. Marcamos de sair a noite. Fomos no Embrev. Bebemos, conversamos, bebemos mais. Dentro do carro, na hora de ir embora, começamos a nos beijar e terminamos no motel.
Na última gira do ano, dia 23/12, eu saí com a galera pra beber pela primeira vez. E foi muito bom. Eu carregava Bóris, o boldo, quando você me deixou em casa. Bêbada, eu te mandei mensagem falando que não dava mais. Você me respondeu sem entender nada e eu sabia que esse era o momento em que eu te falava que estava totalmente entregue àquele sentimento.
Esse é - invariavelmente - o momento da rejeição.
Eu relutei em conversar no momento porque já sabia o que viria. Mas você insistiu e eu achei justo. No dia seguinte, você me encontrou na RiRep e a gente conversou. Segurando o choro eu te contei o meu histórico de ser rejeitada e te disse que gostava de você, mas que não sabia se seria recíproco. Você me disse que era sim, que gostava de mim, mas queria que as coisas fossem mais devagar. E eu não sei fazer isso. Não sei ir devagar se isso é justamente o que me traz insegurança. E a gente resolveu dar um tempo.
Depois disso eu fui pra Floripa passar o ano novo. Quando voltei, você foi na minha casa pra gente organizar o caderno de pontos. Nos dois dias que você estava lá, deitado no sofá da minha sala, a gente se segurou, a tensão era nítida. Eu senti. Você também.
Depois de tudo isso, começou uma luta minha comigo mesma pra separar as coisas. O atabaque, o ogã da casa, o que eu tava sentindo, o Pedro que me trouxe afeto e sinceridade. E eu embolei tudo e fui aos pouquinhos deixando cada vez pior.
Hoje, 17/04/2023, eu sei que consegui destruir tudo que havia sobrado de bom sobre mim em você. Eu sei disso. Eu não consegui tocar com você como se nada tivesse acontecido. Eu não consegui estar com você no bar como se nada tivesse acontecido. Eu não consegui ouvir comentários sobre você como se nada tivesse acontecido. Eu não consegui não contar pras minhas amigas que algo tinha sim acontecido. Eu não consegui fingir que não tava sentindo nada.
Eu não consegui e isso tem me corroído dia após dia, terça após terça.
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