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#then just used the liquid from that

babyblueetbaemonster · 1 month

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Local Alchemist needed to be stopped.

My formula of restore fatigue:

Spring salad: lettuce, radish, potato, (optional: apple, orange, watermelon). Unfortunately it has Burden side effect. (if choose orange, you'll get a bonus Shield effect) Can also side with Ranch dressing: cheese wedge, leek, onion, garlic. And this one has Damage Agility side effect. It can be fix by removing the garlic.

Potato soup: potato, garlic, leek. This recipe has Frost Shield side effect. Perfect choice for a cold weather.

Corn salsa: corn, tomato, onion, garlic. Unfortunately it has Damage Agility side effect, but you can get Detect Life in the process.

Grilled cheese sandwich: bread loaf, cheese wedge, cheese wheel. Unfortunately it has Damage Agility side effect. I should have removed the cheese wedge. Sorry Baurus :(

Classic ham sandwich: bread loaf, cheese wedge, ham, lettuce. Unfortunately this recipe also has Damage Agility side effect, but bonus Fire Shield woohoo!

Gyudon: beef, onion, rice

Mix berries: blackberry, strawberry, (we only have two kinds of berries?) (optional: apple, orange, pear). Actually, don't put apple or pear in it. They will cause Damage Health.

Crabby corn soup: crab, corn, onion. You can add cheese wedge for bonus Fire Shield (and Damage Agility) effect.

Chili con carne: beef (/boar meat /mutton /venison), onion, garlic, tomato. Side effect is Detect Life. (Beef flavor will grant you Shield effect. Unfortunately Boar meat will have burden side effect and Venison is Damage Health)

Pumpkin pie: pumpkin, sweetcake (/flour /sweetroll). Unfortunately both flour and sweetroll has Damage Personality side effect

Carrot cake: carrot, sweet cakes

Strawberry cheesecake: strawberry, cheese wedge, flour (/sweetcake /sweetroll). The flour version has Reflect Damage side effect. I highly recommend it.

#tes #oblivion #hero of kvatch #baurus #tes oc #oc: acelta #oblivion alchemy could be full of flavor and nonsense #i don't have any mushroom recipe bc i'm not sure about the flavors #but it's cool to know most shroom in oblivion is safe to eat (the first alchemy effect is restore stuff #i love how the 3rd era folks incorporated food in their potions #but my recipes are not perfect for i lack some good ingredients like salt and pepper and butter and cream and broth and vanilla extract...#can i season it afterwards? just a pinch of salt? or sugar? or sauce?#can i put two different flavor of potions in a shaker and make two balanced flavor potions? like drink them in one go?#most potions are made by distillation methods (with alembic and retort) so the flavor probably is subtle #i watch some show with bartender use this rotary evaporator to distill drink ingredients #and the final product is clear liquid with a hint of it's original flavor #so maybe that's what oblivion potion is like. some flavored water #wait... is- is potion like some kind of wired flavor soda?#as a alchemy 100 mad lad i can make potion from a single ingredient so i can literately make a ham water of restore fatigue

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blueribbs · 7 months

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robo-ky mk. ii redesign!!!! since the original is just a palette swap that copies moves, i felt like i could get really creative with it. so i made him a liquid metal android like the T-1000, but he's still not very good at imitating ky kiske and prefers to use over the top weapons. a big cape too cuz robo ky is sometimes depicted with one and i didn't put one on my normal robo 1 redesign

#guilty gear #character design #guilty gear redesign #redesign #robo ky guilty gear #robo ky #robo ky mk ii #robo ky mk2 #guilty gear isuka #he's such a fucker i love this guy #also kinda inspired by richie's replic-ky #liquid metal #android #couldn't decide on what color palette to use cuz i felt like it was different enough from my other robo ky to warrant not using the red #but the red for mk ii is just kinda iconic yakno?

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stupid-and-cute-are-enough · 8 months

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for the past 4 days, i've descended into madness over the anon getting turned into an animatronic. behold. 2.6k words @get-rammed i've gone insane

as always, i spew BTS lore in the tags

“Alright, that’s everything,” his Handler announces, finishing the paint on his last claw. They give his hand a satisfied pat. Monty watches as they turn away and begin packing up their things, making idle chatter as they do, offhandedly mentioning that they hope it isn’t too late by the time they actually get to head home. They told him earlier that they’ve got a meeting with the higher-ups once they’re done tonight, and it’s been weighing on him all day.

“I don’t think you should go to that meeting,” he says because he can’t take it any longer.

They pause. “What do you mean?”

“I just… I don’t think you should go.” Monty clenches his fists in his lap. It doesn’t feel right. If it was any other lame meeting announced in a staff email, sure, but this isn’t one of those. They were approached in person. No documents, nothing written; just pulled them aside this morning and told them something about enhancing the Handler experience. All of the other Handlers have gone home already, too, and there’s nothing that they could want just his for that meant anything good.

They huff fondly. “I don’t really have a choice, Monty.”

They keep getting ready, a sinking feeling forming in Monty. He tries again to explain that it’s a bad idea again but is gently shut down. His Handler hugs his head on their way out, an act he’d usually eat up and crave more of, but tonight, he feels like rejecting it. It just feels so wrong.

“Sweets, please, don’t go.” He grabs onto their sleeve. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

Their face softens. “I hear you, Monty, but I have to. I’ll probably get fired if I don’t.” They laugh a little. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Worst-case scenario, they dump a mountain of work on me. Everything’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, big guy.”

—

They announced a new animatronic the very next day.

The announcement made Monty raise a brow because even with his debut as a Glamrock, as rushed as it was, Fazzbear Entertainment still took their time to milk it for all its worth. Surely, with a brand-new animatronic, they’d pull out all of the theatrics. But, no, management had just called everyone backstage (Monty was grabbed by Chica’s Handler because his still wasn’t here, and it worried him. They always tell him if they’re going to be late) and spilled the news.

It’s another gator, which, geez, thanks, corporate. It’s dressed in actual clothes, unlike the rest of them. It’s a little smaller than Monty, with a sleeker design. Monty eyes the new thing up and down. There’s something… wrong with it. Monty feels it. So does the rest of the band. It stands across from them, eyes too wide, taking in too much yet too little information at the same time. Its hands are clutched together, held tightly to its chest. It’s a shambling mess, really. Barely finished and definitely not ready for crowds. The thing really needs a Handler, which only reminds Monty of the empty space by his side.

It’s different from them. It doesn’t fill its body like it’s supposed to. A feeling of uneasiness washes over the room. Even the other Handlers look a little disturbed.

After the incredibly lackluster introduction, dampened by the uneasiness of everyone in the room, management gives up on pleasantries and snaps at everyone to prepare for opening time. They leave without further explanation, not even telling everyone what the newcomer is supposed to be doing. Everyone takes the chance to leave as fast as possible, abandoning the barely functional animatronic where it stands.

Something in Monty tells him to linger, as disturbed as he is. The sinking feeling he had last night returns tenfold.

It looks too familiar. Cautiously, Monty approaches the thing, eyeing the uniform it wears. He dares not to peek at the nametag displayed proudly on its chest. The animatronic tilts its head up at him slightly, or at least it tries. Monty can hear the inner mechanics going, but it remains frozen. He stands uncomfortably in front of it, unsure of what to do. Everything about it feels wrong. Everything about this feels wrong.

He peeks at the nametag, and his world comes crashing down. Surely not. They couldn’t have shoved a whole person, a full consciousness, inside of an animatronic, could they? That technology doesn’t exist, right? Right?

Monty reaches out a shaking hand, staring into the bot’s blank, red eyes. It can’t be. Fazzbear has done some fucked up, shady stuff, but they wouldn’t do this, would they? This has to be too far. It has to. His hand touches their forearm, feeling the all-too-familiar fabric of the Handler uniforms under his finger pads. He meets their eyes, registering the terror behind their blank stare.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, it’s... I, uh-”

“M-” Their voice fries out, and their jaw moves unnaturally. But it’s enough for Monty. That’s their voice. That’s their voice. Monty feels something vile fester inside of him. If he could get sick, he would. That’s them. That’s them in there. They’re in there. That’s his Handler, who he saw just last night, in there.

Their stare is so blank. Their hands are clutched together so tightly. That’s them.

“Oh, sweets…”

His hands slide down their arms to take their hands, snagging his thumb on the cuff of their uniform as he goes. Something there catches his eyes, though, something a human eye would miss, but something he’s been trained to notice. A tiny speckle of blood stained into the fabric. Their blood.

Monty sucks in a breath, his grip on their hands tightening. They were hurt when this was done to them. They bled.

“Let’s go to my green room,” he says. He keeps his voice gentle, but there’s also no room to argue. He doesn’t think they could, anyway. They don’t respond to him or make any kind of movement, so Monty moves for them. Slowly, painfully, he guides them up to his green room, keeping a gentle set of hands on them the entire way. They stumble and would’ve fallen without Monty to catch them. Their tail drags limply behind them. They probably don’t know how to use it for balance yet. The word yet makes Monty’s heart hurt.

He ensures the door stays open as they shuffle into his room, hovering over them until they’ve been cautiously guided to sit on the couch. They don’t need to struggle to stand anymore. Monty doesn’t think he could handle seeing it.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he says. It’s a lie. It’s an awful, horrible lie, but what else is he supposed to say?

They try to speak again, but their voice fries into something that sounds like a quiet cry. Their body begins to tremble, their hands clenching around each other even harder. All tell-tale signs that they’re crying, but they don’t have tears anymore. Instead, their eyes just stare into the wall, unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry, sweets,” he says as they weep. He sits beside them on the couch, cautiously wrapping his body around theirs. He doesn’t know if the different sensations will upset them even further, but he also doesn’t know what else to do.

“H-” A billow of steam rolls out of their jaw, rattling their whole system. The sudden movement startles Monty, making him pull away.

“Hey, sweets, you-” Monty glances into their eyes, wide, sightless, terrified, with a slack jaw pouring steam, “you need to calm down. I know it seems like I’m askin’ the impossible of ya, but you’ll overheat yourself, and I dunno how to fix that.”

Their body shudders, unresponsive to their mind. Monty doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to help. He remembers what they did when he first came online and when he was given his new body. They surrounded him with familiar, comforting things, but his Handler doesn’t live here like he does. At least they didn’t. Their greatest comforts are probably far out of Monty’s reach. He searches around his green room, trying to find anything he knows helps them relax.

He spots a fidget they used to love playing with during his noon charging sessions. It should be simple enough; it just needs a pushing and pulling motion. Nothing complicated. But his Handler’s hands don’t react, even as he pries them apart and presses the fidget into their palm. Their fingers remain tense, not even twitching.

“Okay, something easier. I got it. I’ve got you.”

Monty reaches and grabs one of the oversized plushies lying beside the two of them on the couch. It’s big enough for him to comfortably interact with, so it should be good enough for them, too, right? He places the weighted plush in their lap, tucking its arms in so his Handler doesn’t have to do it themself. It looks like they try to wrap their arms around the plush, but the thing just ends up getting knocked to the floor. The failure to get their arms to work only serves to upset his Handler more as their hands begin trembling, the metal of the digits clinking together.

Monty looks up at them, scared for them. Scared with them. If they can’t function, they’re going to be decommissioned– not fired, not still alive, decommissioned and dead. Gone forever. Their head has turned slightly, staring intensely at something, so Monty follows their line of sight. His gaze lands on their jacket that they accidentally left last night, draped across a chair. Now a little shaky himself, Monty gets up and retrieves it for them.

He realizes once he gets back that it doesn’t fit them anymore. It used to be so big on them, but it doesn’t fit now. Their favorite jacket, the one they wore every day, doesn’t fit anymore. He drapes it over their shoulders, bringing it around them tightly. Their shoulders are bigger under his hands. Wider. Their body is like his own now and so very, very different from what it used to be.

He retakes their hands, kneeling in front of them. He meets their eyes, which stare deep into whatever kind of soul he has.

“Look at me, Chere,” he says, squeezing their hands, trying to ground them. He’d tell them to breathe with him, but they can’t anymore, and he doesn’t know if that’ll help or upset them. “I’ve got you. I promise. I won’t ever, ever let anything else happen to you. I promise.”

Their hands squeeze his own, and Monty lets out his own version of a sigh of relief. The shaking in their limbs begins to die down, the steam eventually coming to an end. He smiles at them, keeping his hold on their hands solid. He praises them softly, rubbing their knuckles.

Their eyes meet his properly, and Monty can see the hurt and the fear in their eyes. They shift, jaw moving experimentally.

“I… can’t breathe,” they say.

Monty’s heart breaks for them. They try to shift, try to grab onto their jacket and pull it tighter around them, but their limbs won’t cooperate, and the metal of their fingers slips against the satin material.

“Here, you gotta… you gotta grip with the pads of your fingers. Like this,” Monty says, taking hold of their hands and guiding their fingers to do so. A shudder runs through their system, getting their hands to tighten and pull, if only slightly.

Monty steps back to take another look at the design of their new body. A gator, like him. Their hair is soft and synthetic, with a little product to keep it sleek, so at least that wasn’t taken from them. In a bitter-sweet kind of way, Monty can imagine helping them style their hair in the morning when the dust settles. But Monty still has trouble adjusting to his mohawk, so he can’t imagine what it’s like for them right now. How long it’ll take for that dust to settle. They’re smaller than him. Sleeker. A little more compact and able to fit into tighter spaces. Probably equipped with the same processing power Monty has, and he prays to whatever is out there, none of the guardrails. Overall, they’re… built to work. They were hurt, maybe even killed, their body broken, disposed of, and shoved into this body to work. To work! They never get to go home again; they never get to have a life outside of the Pizzaplex ever again, all so Fazzbear Entertainment could have another obedient little worker.

Monty shoves down his anger. They don’t need that right now. Instead, he turns his energy to muster up the best smile he can, affirming the correct motions with their hands.

“There you go, you’ve got it.” His smile wavers a little at their silence.

They stare at their hands, their new, robotic, alien hands. Hands that don’t listen when they tell them to move. A body that doesn’t listen. They grip around the fabric of their jacket, feeling, in a way, the mechanics whirr in their arms. But they don’t feel the silky fabric anywhere but their finger pads. They feel the warmth of Monty in front of them, holding onto them, but only in broad strokes. It’s not like skin. It’ll never be like skin. There’s no more blood, only coolant (they feel so cold), no nerves, no organs. No lungs. Those things are still there, in a way, in a robotic sense.

All of the essential bits keeping their body moving are still there. But it’s not their body. Flashes of blood and mutilation streak across their vision the longer they stare. They have claws now. And a snout. And a tail. They always thought it’d be kind of cool to have a tail, who doesn’t, but not like this. They don’t want this. They want to go home and lay in bed and fall asleep and hope that this is some god-awful dream. They want to fight with their ID at the stupid maintenance tunnel exit, and drive home tired, and wake up five hours later to come to work and do it all over again.

“... sweets?”

They look up to Monty, sight still a little unclear. He looks worried. He looks scared. They don’t think they’ve ever seen him scared. He tentatively takes their hands, prying the fabric away before they rip something.

They stay there, Monty kneeling, Handler sitting, staring at each other. Lost, scared, confused. Neither quite sure what to say.

“I wanna go home,” they eventually settle on. They can see the resolve in Monty crack.

“I know, sweets.” He rubs their knuckles again. They’re disturbed by how little they can feel of it. “I’m so sorry they did this to you.”

They want to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he has nothing to be sorry for, but the words don’t come to them. So, instead, they sit in silence. Awful, dreadful silence.

Eventually, Monty stands, still holding their hands in his. “You’ve gotta be getting… tired,” he murmurs. “Here, I’ll show you how to get charged.”

His Handler know how. They’ve helped Monty settle in to get charged a million times. But it’s different now. They need to charge. Their battery isn’t running low, they don’t think anyway, but the emotional drain is enough for them to take the carefully offered out. Monty gets them set up, gently explaining things as he goes, like what it’s going to feel like at first and how entering standby will kind of feel like sleeping (at least, what he’s pretty sure sleeping feels like). When everything is said and done, and Monty is sure they’ll be out for a while, he turns to eye the big door that separates his room from the rest of the Pizzaplex.

His curtains are closed, and he’s going to make sure it stays that way. For a long time.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #montgomery gator #monty fanart #self insert #fnaf monty gator #reader insert #security breach monty #my post #the best part abt this blog is you can see my descent into madness. try n see how many overlaps there r to my tags on the og post (its lots #i imagine the animatronics were programmed to know absolutely Nothing about the Controversies hence monty's denial #which i LOVED writing btw i love knowing that something awful is afoot and the character try to deny it heehee #the reason the pronouns used for anons bot form changes b4 monty hears their voice is bc he's already started accepting it and their voice #basically just seals the deal #ik that the steam in bots releases from back vents + nostrils but i like the imagery of it spewing out of their mouth more #maybe they dont know how to use the back vents yet or something lmao #ive spent SO LONG thinking of all the tiny things that need to change now that only specific parts of their body register touch/have good #traction on slippy surfaces. such as satin jackets #anon went from all of the liquid in their body working to keep them warm to all of the liquid in their body working to keep them cool #yeah monty aint doin ANY shows (willingly) until they can function #AUGH ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN BODY HORROR IM RUSTY #this isnt even that heavy on the horror since most of it is montys pov but i had my fun for two whole paragraphs #I WAS GONNA ADD MORE BUT THE WC IS 2269 NICE #yeah i REALLY didnt wanna have to make up and bg characters so we have Management and Corporate thanks guys <3

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neige-leblanche · 5 days

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Introducing THE LINDY FLOAT, a beverage invented by me with divine inspiration from a metaphysical entity I have dubbed The Girlie. If you put alcohol in it, it's called an "Ask not how you can serve cunt...", but I haven't done that yet.

INGREDIENTS:

- 1 part strawberry soda

- 1 part peach seltzer

- 1 scoop falooda kulfi

WHAT IT IS NOT:

- good

WHAT IT IS:

- pink

˚✧₊⁎ Enjoy ⁎⁺˳✧༚

#txt #ok the very dregs r kinda good but this is mostly just ice cream #it's simultaneously way too sweet & completely flavorless #i will make it again the next time i see strawberry soda. the flavors might be better balanced from the more syrupy flavor + two carbonated #liquids instead of one #for context i actually used strawberry agua fresca here bc i could not find strawberry soda at the store #this is what your 20s are for on god

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stickbug-made-entirely-of-spite · 6 days

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Heyo, friends! Have this thing I painted yesterday, as a result of wondering what would happen if I mixed charcoal with liquid oil medium :]

Mild cw for blood/graphic imagery, but it's really just some abstract-ish red splatter lmao

The charcoal I used was really roughly ground (I put my charcoal scraps in a little box together with a rock and shake it up every once in a while), so it gave me some really nice texture when I mixed it with the oil medium! The eyebrows and the darkness around the eyes are good examples, as I haven't used anything else there :]

This is honestly just a mindless, self-indulgent scribble (I painted it with a butter knife lmfao-) , but I figured it would be fun to share in case someone might find my little experiment interesting ^-^

I'm thinking about finishing it, but I'm not quite sure how I would do that lmao. I might add in some painted flowers, poppies could look very nice, I imagine!

Spur-of-the-moment experiments aside, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day! 🧡

Yours truly, Stickbug 🪲

#art #artist #artists on tumblr #artwork #traditional art #painting #charcoal #ink #I also used some eyeshadow from a palette that I hate the quality of #I figured #Why not just use it in my art???#It's not like I've been using it on my face lmao #And I definetly won't be now #Since it's been contaminated with liquid oil medium and fixative spray #cw blood #cw graphic

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tolbachik · 7 months

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sorry for being so angry tonight. a better world is possible, we have the engineers, the knowledge, and the power to do it. but our world is driven by a greed and hatred unlike any other, one that sucks the soul out of us all.

we can live lives filled with peace, love, and relative comfort but it's been decided for us that we can't. we can uncover the secrets of our world and universe, but we only chose to do so when it's profitable.

there are so many amazing, wonderful, beautiful people on this world. so many vibrant cultures, so much love, so many hopes and dreams. but the west takes it all. capitalism takes more than the world can provide, pushes people into poverty and slavery, all so only a few can play with us all as mere toys and have dick waving competitions.

we're turned against each other, we're told others are savage and inhuman, that they're just a number, just a percentage point. they play god, and as one that is filled with nothing but vengeance and rage. one that only seeks to punish and hoard all that there is, until there isn't anything else anymore. we could've made such a beautiful world for ourselves by this point if a few key things had gone through, but greed and hatred was won time and time again.

my only hope is that we can finally start to push this horrid system into the fire, and we can truly start to set things right. for all its failings, i think the internet has really started to bring us together. i just want people to live and be happy. i want everyone to be able to follow their dreams and feel love. i really hope we can reach that point someday.

#sorry. again.#had one of those “oh yeah i'm alive” moments when i was writing that francis bebey thing #and it just kinda snowballed from there y'know #knowing history and how long certain concepts have been around is just so infuriating #we really could've been in such a good state by now #space based solar power beaming down nearly limitless energy by the 80s #floating sea platforms providing fresh seafood and electricity to equatorial nations #nearly carbon neutral electrical grid by this time if reagan hadn't been president #liquid salt reactors to help transition us from fossil fuels to clean energy #so many things have been possible and are currently possible to make life so much better for everyone #but instead we waste it on dozens of useless wifi satellites that'll trap us on our planet #nuclear fearmongering preventing us from weaning off of fossil fuels easily #every day i wake up hoping this chain of bad decisions and terror has been a dream #but it isn't #we have to make do with what we have and strive for a better world #we'll get there someday #my posts

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ferretwhomst · 25 days

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i should probably clarify on that one post that it's not Actually them celebrating holi, that was me doing a funny silly joke, and that that stuff is actually unicorn blood

#i know it looks powdery that's just the brush i use + my inability to draw liquids #also as fun as it is to imagine holi is way off from the time the twins would be in gravity falls #not that that will stop me from thinking abt it!!! just not what's going on in the drawing LOL #ferret rambles

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emeraldcreeper · 1 month

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I’ve only had agate for one full day but I already love him dearly

This is tentatively how his match is gonna look, (her name is sediment I like to do themed names with the first few ancients of a breed that I get) with display/weaver/stained she was my egg hatch she got shamrock. shadow/cottoncandy/shamrock, I love her primary and secondary colors so I’m grateful they got access to stained day 1 because I wanted to match her with agate so badly

#I bought him as a g1 nocturne #and I had 2/3 of his genes #I was liquidating my hibden exalt pile and I got his genes from the mire #plus veil but look at how matchy it is I had to put it on him #I got a male and a female from my eggs I’m using my female with him #I may do display instead of weaver I don’t know yet #flight rising #fr dusthide #I’m just very proud of my boy agate #sediment is cute but she’s not nearly as matchy and nice as agate was

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wheeler-things · 1 year

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Okay, but the question on my mind is: have we come to a consensus on which Party member is the local dice goblin (either in a 21st century au or when they’re adults with the ability to commission or make them in some way, or just as 40-50 year olds who are still playing when the Internet makes it possible to get lots of fancy sets because I’ll admit that I have no idea how easy or difficult it was to get fun dice in the 80’s)?

Because like?

I feel like Dustin could go either way. Like, I could see him getting really into different sets. But I could also see him being the guy in the group who always points out that, assuming your current set doesn’t have any balancing flaws, you only “need” one set. Depends on how he feels about the concept of luck, I guess.

But also, Lucas?? Dice goblin Lucas? I don’t know! I don’t have any good reasoning here! It just sparks joy when I think about it. I think it’s a fun idea! And Max would laugh her ass off when she found out, which is always a win.

But also MIKE? I fully believe Mike would angrily dump his bad dice in jail, so I could totally see him with a massive stack of extras to pick from. Plus, then he can be a scary DM and roll WAY too many dice to generate damage after one of the Party members did something stupid or wildly dangerous or totally failed some check/save. Grinning the whole time while the others scream at him.

But Will? Will who definitely can’t afford to fund his habit as a kid, but as soon as he has disposable income as an adult?? Buying all the dice. Collecting them. Having a different set for every campaign. Having favourite ones which always roll nicely and ones that he likes the look of but which always roll badly so they’re not allowed to even touch the table. Mike laughs about it and then proceeds to get talked into setting the fancy ones up in a nice display case in their First Real Working Adult living room.

#mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #the party #byler #this is all coming from my friend group’s local dice gremlin #I just used the money my parents gave me for Christmas to buy three new fancy sets #because I’m a responsible adult #one of them is a set with a glittery liquid core which I’m very excited for because they fit the energy of my upcoming campaign!!#plus also a rainbow prism set which I’m holding back until the fae campaign my friend is running gets off the ground #and then also there’s a bloodstone set and I cannot wait to plan a tragedy campaign for the blood on cobblestones look to work!!#I’m so excited lol #I love my dice

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