thinking of when I had a dream I was an aging white father of 3 kids and my weeping wife was begging me to not leave (I don’t know why I was leaving her) and as I walked out the front door of our suburban home I turned around in my khakis and said “I’m sorry, but I have to go now and….I’m never coming back. I love you” and then woke up like
Oops! Sorry, posted that dream to the wrong head – Morpheus
I can't tell you his name because 3 years experience shows people--people reading this--will harass his family. I'll call him Ed.
Twelve years ago I had business in...a cold city. I didn't know anyone but Ed's boyfriend.
I stayed at their house. We hung out and watched TV, watched the snow fall. Talked about art, the midwest--which I knew nothing about then. Ed had a collection of cookie jars.
They were nice was the point. Intelligent, incredibly generous, willing to think about things you put in front of them and to put things in front of you so you'd think about them. He wasn't the funny one (the boyfriend was the funny one) but you got the feeling he knew it, which was funny.
----------
Ed liked my work--he eventually had a stained-glass window made from one of my paintings. I hadn't seen him in years--maybe ten?--when I found out he had one year left to live.
I visited. He wasn't the kind of guy who wanted pity or to talk about the chemo or biopsies or the remaining viable cells. He had lived a life of being the reliable guy and wanted to keep being that guy. The cancer had accelerated his decision to retire but he'd been a very successful lawyer.
So as soon as he's shown me around the apartment--and the new cookie jars. He says "I hear you're dealing with something of a legal situation. I can take a look for you if you like?"
He wanted to do something besides sit around the house and talk to his kids on the phone and wait to die. He said it--plus you could just tell. He read every document, he asked every question, he listened to tapes of hearings, he threw himself into my case(s) whenever his health permitted.
There are things that a lawyer that you're paying might not tell you--because it might involve them getting paid less. Also, just, he'd worked on some of the biggest defamation cases in the country. So, for two years, whenever I was dealing with any big legal decision I'd send it to him and get a second (often third or fifth) opinion. "A judge won't care about that" or "If they said that in that state it's open-and-shut."
He kept not dying. He also kept not wanting to talk about the cancer (I tried because I felt bad he was spending the effort on me) and talk about my case instead.
---------
He called some months back and asked how all the legal stuff was progressing. It was a little bit of a surprise because up until then he'd waited for me to call him (legal stuff involves a lot of waiting for the court to decide to set a deadline to do a thing). I told him. We're waiting, as usual.
A few weeks later Ed's boyfriend (now ex-) got in touch to tell me Ed had died. Ed had gotten sick of the chemo and decided to just end it--after tying up his loose ends.
Looking at the dates, I realized that call was one of those loose ends.
He'd decided to die and one of the last things to do on this planet was get in touch, check in with me, and help however he could--and not tell me he was about to die. He didn't want pity about cancer, he wanted to do what he could to make sure I was ok, that I wasn't being taken advantage of, that my lawyers were taking the tack that made the most sense, that I was suing the right people, that he called all his people to find out what he could about any judge any of them knew anything about.
-------
I don't know why I'm telling you this but the reason I'm still here, the reason I'm still alive is because of about two dozen people like Ed in my life. There was only one Ed but there are a lot of Eds: People who have been going through all the shit that life, Covid and the world throw at people and still had time to stop and go "Holy fuck, Zak, this is fucked up" and buy me lunch or give me the number of a guy they know or just show up and type a thing on the internet and let the other Eds know they're not alone.
I will never be able to repay them because either I die or I will live and owe them my life. I'm not a doctor, I'm not an EMT, I'm not a shrink, I don't have any life-saving skills. I can't do what they've done for me.
I also will probably never be able to publicly say their names and, probably, vice versa. Even if I survive, the people who did this will never stop trying to find ways to harm them. But I wanted to say that I appreciate you, not just to Michelle, Kimberly, Charlotte, Sara, and all the people who can speak out publicly, but to all the Ed's out there who can't. My house owes your house a debt it can never repay but I'll do my best to come as close as I can.
This cover marks the fifth appearance of The Bondsmen. Their live action movie was featured in STF #3170, They found themselves in a beastly situation in STF #3050, They had to temporarily replace one of their own in STF #880 and were first introduced in STF #564...
It took a bit of cleaning up of Latveria before I could add in our heroes on this cover. Here's a peek at the process:
Two readers have gotten in touch to say they were disturbed by Kayleigh’s move on Matt, in Dork Tower 1997, and that it was tantamount to assault.
This is an important point to bring up. And since you’ve now seen the follow-up strip, I thought I should talk about that.
Matt and Kayleigh’s relationship goes well back to the earliest Dork Tower comic books. It was on-and-off, then ended as Most Definitely Off, as of THE TAO OF IGOR. It was never good, and most definitely framed to be unhealthy.
Apparently I needed more than the single strip earlier this year to get this point across.
Some readers did remember that strip, and brought it up in their replies.
I sure should have emphasized that aspect more (say, in two or three more strips, at least, a few months ago). It also would have made for some fun comics (I’m imagining Ken and Igor’s horror at the discovery, here).
I didn’t want to give too much away, though. Also, I assumed most readers knew about the rather broken nature of Matt and Kayleigh’s relationship, from the comic books.
I made the wrong calls.
I dislike describing it as “toxic,” but given the nature of their relationship, plus the “exting,” the kiss seemed, to me, a move that Kayleigh would definitely make, both as a power play over Gilly, but also because there are some honest feelings for Matt. To me, it was in the nature of her relationship to Matt – she’d always be the one to take charge.
What seems a natural character dynamic in my head made little sense to a few readers. I hadn’t laid the groundwork fully enough. Particularly not for readers who unfamiliar with the comic book storylines.
The web strip has taken off, and I need to remind myself that this form is how the vast majority of readers now know and consume Dork Tower. The current storyline is my attempt at handing off the long-term character development from the Dork Tower trade paperbacks, post-TAO OF IGOR, to the web strip.
Though overall very well received, this has certainly led to some a couple of folks asking legitimate questions.
Lastly, some relationships are just bad, and some characters will do things in certain situations that are just not cool. To say the least,
Kayleigh has always regarded Matt as hers. Her making this move is obviously wrong on any number of levels (simply to spite Gilly being at the top). Writing about an awful move most certainly does not mean I’m endorsing it.
However, I *do* need to make sure readers know where that move came from, and how it is framed in the context of the characters and their history and their relationships.
I’ll be going into the background of the Matt-Kayleigh connection in upcoming strips. I almost changed Dork Tower 1998, to show Matt’s arms around Kayleigh sooner.
Only a couple of readers brought this up, but they do have a point.
This was sloppy plotting, on my part, and I’ll do better
Sometimes, just sometimes, Goddess allows for a miracle. The impossible is made real; a family becomes whole. It’s in that moment when a void in the lives of two red-tails is closed by the appearance of two blue-tails and a truth is recalled. The love of one’s parents is …
Eternal – Part III
By TeraS
Auntie Simone can be so frustrating at times. It’s not that what she suggested for Dad’s birthday is a bad idea, mind you. It’s that I don’t have a clue what we could do. I’m sure that Auntie Cassie has something sorted out; Dad’s taught her something about this sort of thing before.
Rianna isn’t being a lot of help either, honestly. My strawberry-blonde sister would rather be enjoying the fruits of whatever labour is put into the creations than making them herself. Still, she does have a knack for stumbling across things from time to time and I hope this is one of those moments. Dad’s library is kind of daunting, after all.
Ignoring all of the other bookcases–and there are a lot of them, I can tell you–I make a beeline to the one that’s filled with recipe books. We both know that he has many hobbies, but cooking isn’t that. It’s an expression of his love for us, how important to him we all are.
Still, there’s so many of them to examine. Some are really old, otherwise worn and dog eared from being referenced over and over again. Others are almost new; maybe they’re things he was thinking about trying at some point. There are a lot of books that I can see from his leather chair where I’m perched, watching Rianna sitting on the floor just in front of me. She’s got that musing expression of hers, head tilted to the right, her blue tail moving slowly as she scans the titles. My younger sister makes an interesting point: “Sis, you know Dad would be fine with us just hugging him and stuff.”
I can’t really argue with that, but still I remind her: “Sure. But I think Auntie Simone would be a smidge miffed.”
There aren’t many in the Realm that Rianna gets flustered about, but the way her tail shoots straight up at the mention of our aunt’s name puts paid to that idea with her: “Yeah … But I have no idea what to do, Branwyn. We have to figure something out.”
She’s right of course. It’s been hours of us staring at books and not coming up with answers. It’s a good thing that Mom and Dad are away for the day … or Mom’s making sure that Dad doesn’t get home too early to see what we’re up to.
Scooting closer to Rianna, I peer over her shoulder as she keeps staring. The words on the spines of the books start to get a little blurry as we press on and on in the search. Giving up after a while and leaning back in dad’s chair, my eyes wander over the other bookcases and consider them. Of course, none of them have anything to do with cooking, but it’s a diversion for a moment.
Then one small, out of place, well-worn and very familiar book catches my eye. Tapping Rianna on the shoulder with the tip of my tail, I point it out to her with my hand: “Sis, could you, please?” She has this really confused expression, but nods and goes to get the book I’m interested in. Neither of us has actually ever touched it before, I recall, as Rianna carefully slips it out of place and holds it with both hands.
Mom’s told us about it. So has Dad. It’s what brought them together, it’s what made the Realm what it is. It’s also what brought us together as a family. She’s tracing the words on the cover with a finger as she wonders: “Goddess works in mysterious ways, doesn’t she?”
Sis is right, of course. So many things connected and came to pass because of a wish made real from the pages of that book she’s holding. There are other books in the Realm that are far older, far more important to the Realm as a whole, of course. But none of them hold the power that this bit of bound paper does. It isn’t just ink on pages, it’s not a bunch of words put into the universe with no expectation other than telling a story. It means something to our family that can’t be explained well enough.
Rianna has the oddest expression as she passes the book to me. In the instant that we both touch the book, memories take over. I remember the first time Mom brought us to see Dad. Not that Rianna nor I ever forgot it, just like we never forgot the first time we met Mom, the moment we became succubi, the exact second when Mom called us her daughters for the first time. You don’t forget when everything you’ve wanted for so long comes to be.
Mom explained that Dad was … right. She couldn’t explain it better than that, trying to explain that we’d understand when we met him was the best she could do. He didn’t appear, she explained, often at the college were Mom was the Student Counsellor and Rianna and I students, not having a clue how our lives would change as they did. Being alone as we were, Tera adopting us as her daughters was the result of the universe being bent by Goddess to her will. I really didn’t know what to expect from Keith, Rianna seemed to have a slightly better idea, but she wasn’t all that helpful in her explanation, either.
Still, the day came when Mom said to meet her at the old maple tree in the quad and that Keith would be there. That announcement flustered both of us, having no idea what to expect. Mom sort of gave a clue, being she appeared in her casual look, red jacket and all, when she told us. Casual it was then, Rianna going for the schoolgirl look she liked. Me? I’d sort of gotten hooked on a latex and leather look that Mom adored, saying it was perfect.
The first time we saw Keith, Tera was settled in with him at the park bench under the maple. I could tell how much they loved each other and how that love drew all of us together as a family. I remember his smile when our gazes met, the two of them getting up and offering us a hug. It felt right to be held by mom and dad. His first words mattered more than he knew: “Welcome home.”
If that was all, it would have been more than enough. If not another word was said, Rianna and I would have been fine with it, but there was more. If there was one thing we would come to know, it was Dad loved sharing. He shared his love, his time, and more without expecting anything in return. On this occasion, he shared something so very special: a red ceramic bowl with chocolate ice cream waiting for each of us.
Dad had a wistful smile: “It’s my mom’s recipe. She would have loved you both.” It was the best ice cream I’d ever had.
The memory faded away and I found myself pondering it as Rianna smiled knowingly. The answer was staring me in the face, and I wondered: “You don’t think.”
Rianna put Mom and Dad’s special book back where it belonged: “It has to be here somewhere.”
It took some time to find the book we wanted: a spiral-bound notebook with a red cover, of course, Dad’s handwriting in marker on the cover. Two words: “Mom’s Recipes.” Dozens and dozens of yellow notes sticking out at all angles with thoughts written on them in flowing cursive. Grandmom’s handwriting, to be sure. But there were four red ones we couldn’t ignore. Opening the book to the first one, Rianna smiled. Dad’s scrawling note said: ‘For Branwyn and Rianna’.
Following the successful launch on Kickstarter, I’m pleased to now be able to present you with the full Ancient Greek Mythical Creatures collection!
The ABC Book – available in paperback, on Gumroad (UK) and Etsy (EU and Rest of World)
The Colouring Book– available in paperback, or as a PDF download, Just For You or For Schools
The Mythical Creatures Collection on Redbubble – 12 sticker designs, two repeating patterns of Satyrs dancing and all the creatures from the book, and a poster of the ABC for your nursery, office or classroom walls. Get 25% off all apparel with code INSPIRED until August 19th!
A very different sort of Succubi art this time on the Tale. I think of it as a painting as a whole, there’s a certain tone to it as well. Perhaps in the beauty of form the hint of evil isn’t quite so powerful as it otherwise might be…
Yes there are no horns or tail to be seen, but here I think that’s a choice that works well with her form. Perhaps this is the instant between her feeding and her true form coming into focus. The smoke like form of her clothing and forming wings I think hints at that. A unique work of art that offers so very much by far.
When plans are afoot in the Realm, and they involve a specific red-tailed king, one can be assured that one certain silver-tail is involved. The Temptress cannot help but be part of the scheming, it’s part of her nature, but then she cannot resist her …
Eternal – Part II
By TeraS
This is an immensely awful idea. I have no idea what I’m doing; I’m sure that whatever comes out of this will be a complete disaster. I’ve never done this before, and it’s going to be the worst thing I’ve ever done.
Mind you, the fire alarm going off as many times as it has in the past week hasn’t been all bad. The firefighters are especially cute, both incubi and succubi alike. Encouraging them to stay–to be sure I was safe, of course–did result in some delightfully naughty diversions. It was disappointing how quickly their stamina failed them all, even being in as good shape as they are.
Where was I? … Oh, yes, the ill-advised direction of this idea that Simone came up with. She knows full well that I haven’t a clue about doing something like this. It’s just not something that I was ever interested in. It’s so much easier to seduce another soul into doing all of the work and for me to delight in their efforts. A playful wink and smile, a suggestive purr, and all that I needed to do was look pretty, observe their toil, and then reward them.
That’s not to say that my red-tailed love hasn’t tried of course … “Cassie… you might actually learn to like this.”
I rarely used my kitchen for anything other than storing certain items that were useful to make playing with others a bit messy. Keith was especially surprised when I explained that the oven was purely ornamental and I’d never used it since it had been delivered. Come to think of it, when he opened the door and found that I’d been using it as a bookcase for the more food-oriented erotic works in my collection, I couldn’t keep an innocent smile. He knew that it wasn’t that by any means. “Really Cassie?”
My pout as he handed me the books and “encouraged” them to be put away properly was meant as a tease, of course. Still, he promised it would be worth it, if I was good and paid attention. I wouldn’t expect anything less from my Adored One. As I made my way back and forth, my love poked about in the cabinets, fridge, and elsewhere, finding this thing and that item, setting them all on the countertop island. When he was finally done, I settled onto a bar stool and examined what he had collected.
Picking up a can of RediWhip, my smile was especially naughty: “I know what this is for.”
Waving a bottle of chocolate sauce he mused: “If you’re good, Cassie…”
My special purr, the one that was meant only for him, was a promise: “I can be mostly good, you know.”
I adore his smile, the chuckle when he knows that I’ll get my way at some point. Everyone speaks of him looking “right,” of course. Save for Tera, none of them really know just what that word means: being held by him, knowing the love we share; sitting on a park bench, watching the Realm pass by, holding hands; a night on the town, the Temptress with her King, tails twined for all to see. Love matters so much more than lust: he taught me that with the first kiss we shared. Not that lust isn’t a delight on its own, of course. Being his Temptress brings a need to be tempting, to suggest all of the things we could do and suggest them as often as possible.
I’ve watched my Adored One cook and bake many times before this moment. It amazes me that he can create so effortlessly. I would, honestly, rather be distracting him. He doesn’t mind, of course, much of the time, but I can tell he really wants me to try. For him, and no one else, I take pen to paper, putting the effort into noting everything he says and does. To my surprise, he puts the Rediwhip and chocolate sauce to the side before setting things out in front of me. The list grows with each item, a certain amount of this, a specific kind of that. I’m captivated with his passion in teaching me and I try to be good. Really, I do. The ingredients find themselves in a bowl one at a time. He explains what needs to be done, how things should be.
“Come and help Cassie.” The notepad is left behind as he guides me around the island, putting me in front of the bowl. Having no idea what to do, I’m surprised when he spoons with me, his hands guiding my own into the mixture and mixing it. I can’t help myself, biting my lip, mewling as he whispers sweet encouragement. Goddess, how I love when we play like this, the thrill of being with him, tails twined, passion shared.
Visions of terribly naughty things to do sneak into my thoughts as my Adored One attempts to teach me. Somehow, and I’m not sure exactly how, I wind up with flour in my hair and scattered all over the kitchen. The handprints here and there, and all over our clothes, suggest that the lesson took a bit of a turn away from baking alone towards other kinds of activities that have a lot of heat.
Nonetheless, I manage to focus on most of what I’m being taught. I might not remember everything, but to this day I still remember what matters: the laughter, the joy of having time with him, how happy he was when I managed to get a step right, and the delight in the caresses to encourage me. It seemed to take forever to accomplish the steps, it felt like moments before it was all ready for the next step.
Row upon row laid on a tray of my favourite colour. The oven sounds that it is ready to take part in my lesson. He slides the tray in the oven and sets the timer before turning to me with a smile: “And now we wait.”
I can see the timer and wonder aloud as I try to brush the flour out of my hair: “I guess we clean up?” Then I see he’s holding the RediWhip: “Or we can get dirtier.”
I’m backed up against the island as my Adored One comes closer. Bumping against a bottle, I catch it before it falls. Waving chocolate sauce to defend myself, there is only one answer: “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
The wail of the cooking timer shakes me back to the present; I’m rather pleased that it wasn’t the fire alarm going off again. As much as the scolding was fun the last time, it’s for the best. The fire station was running out of steam running back and forth, or so they said.
The oven seems somehow pleased with itself, whether that’s my imagination or it realizing that I might have gotten things right, I’m not sure. There’s no smell of burning, which is good. For the first time, there’s a familiar scent that reminds me of why this is important. Opening the door, there’s a definitive lack of charcoal. I recall Keith’s lesson, noting the golden-brown colour, the delights risen just so.
I do remember the oven mitts, my eyes scan the pan critically looking for the inevitable flaw; there will be one somewhere, I’m sure. There’s a place on top of the oven to rest the pan and consider what I’ve done this time. Poking each item with a finger, they move effortlessly on the silver surface, a good sign.
But the proof, so they say, of the pudding is in the eating, which makes no sense to me as there’s no pudding here. The treat is warm to the touch as I pick one up and consider it. It looks right, and that thought makes me smile as I take a nibble.
I’m going to be setting aside Morgane’s story for the balance of August and the reason for this will become, I think, rather clear as this particular story unfolds. For you see, there are some truths that are …
Eternal – Part I
By TeraS
There are many things which the Queen and King of the Realm have in common. If not sharing in all of each of their particular likes, certainly there are some personality quirks which appear to be very obvious to those around them. Their birthdays being the most so, which surprises no-one. Neither really expects anything special to happen; they don’t go looking for adoration, flamboyant events, or such things. It simply isn’t who either of them are.
My niece is so terribly set in her ways about this. Her Eternal, my dear friend, even more so, if that’s possible. Honestly, it’s frustrating at times when his demure personality comes to the fore about the topic of his birthday, in particular. He’s well aware that in spite of his commentary–or perhaps to spite that, to my own amusement–his protestations will fall upon deaf ears.
The plans had been percolating in my thoughts for some time as the calendar turned over, the date circled in red appearing there on the bottom edge. I had been gathering my thoughts, my index finger tapping the date in question when his voice announced his arrival. “What are we pondering today, Simone?”
This was in jest, of course. He would never say or consider thinking such things in a way to give offence. From the first moment we met, there was a connection between us, an understanding. We all speak of him looking “right,” of course, that being not a consequence of being our King. It really wouldn’t matter in the slightest if he wasn’t, after all, a bright soul, one who loves freely and who openly is captivating.
My reply held as much teasing: “Where am I going to find a duck and a hose at this time of the afternoon.”
I do so enjoy his smile, as he knows he started this: “Never should have told you about that cartoon.”
Taking a sip of tea and strategically setting the cup right over the circled date, I regard him through my silver-rimmed glasses: “Humour is an artful concept, young man. One should be able to appreciate it when it is well done.”
I do appreciate our banter. It’s not a battle or a struggle to some sort of victory. It’s a bit of lightness to carry the other parts of the conversation to where they will end up. Casting my thoughts to the time when he first appeared, my pleasure in knowing him brings a smile that I’m sure makes him wonder what I’m thinking about.
I’d seen dear Cassiopeia challenge Tera for the throne, and that saddened me more than I have ever let on. Centuries later, the truth came out of course, but at the time all that I knew was that I would lose one or both of them to the throne. Neither had an Eternal which meant nothing but terrible things for the future. They both had their opinions, they both believed they were right. They couldn’t be, of course. How wrong that thought was then, and I’m ashamed that I couldn’t trust in this sorting itself out.
Our family has always loved libraries. It seemed like one of us was always in the Realm’s library, lost in the depths of the stacks with one or another of the books calling for our attention. In the midst of the strife between my nieces, I’d secreted myself in one particular reading room I adored. Far up in the upper floors, an enormous skylight and bay windows showing the skies above and the Realm far below. It was my private place to, as my dear mother said, gather wool and make up my mind about things.
Being the Receptionist, the Guardian of the Realm, I’m far more attuned than most to how things are. I had been feeling the tension, the loss, the confusion of our kind, and it weighed on me. It was quarter to three in the morning in that moment when I felt something change in the texture of the Realm. Looking into the night, there wasn’t a physical change, it was something else that I couldn’t explain at that instant.
“Auntie?”
Tera’s voice calling out shook my thoughts, and I turned to find her by the doorway. She was wearing the long red jacket that would become her trademark look in the years to come, my first thought was how she looked perfect, but of course she would. I was a terrible influence on her, so her mother said with a wink many times. “Tera?”
“I want you to meet someone.” The skyline of the Realm left my attention as I watched Tera hold out her hand and he entered, his hand slipping into her waiting one. I would have to be blind not to see how right they were for each other. I would have to be stupid not to see the love they shared. In that first moment seeing them together, there was no question what the next words would be.
“This is my Eternal, Keith.”
It was an awkward moment to be sure. I was close to tears, words failing as their love took root in the Realm. I felt the change, the tension ebbing slightly away both around and within me. In that moment, I knew that it would be better, that this mortal brought here by the rightful Queen would be the one to make a difference.
They shared a kiss, then Tera left the room, leaving me alone with the blue-eyed human she loved. I didn’t expect him to close the space between us, take my hand and kiss it in the formal way before taking me in his arms, my own finding their way to holding him, my tail wrapped possessively around his waist. I looked into those so-blue eyes, I felt the love he held, the brightness of his soul …
… and then he started to explain.
If i didn’t know his soul, the story would be impossible to believe. That he loved Tera more than life, but he also loved Cassiopeia as his first love. My silver-tailed niece had come to the mortal world long before Tera had found him, fallen into love and revealed the truth of the Realm. The Cassiopeia he loved wasn’t the one of the here and now, exactly. It was the Cassiopeia in the future–which was confusing, he admitted–but he would love her from afar until the moment happened and all was right again.
But that didn’t matter. He loved them both and, in knowing that, my fear of losing my nieces to the throne faded away. Of course I could accept the three of them being Eternals, of course I would do whatever had to be done to make that all come true. I would have to hide the truth for a long time, he made clear, but, in the end, Tera’s dream of what the Realm could be, would be.
I saw Tera in the doorway waiting for my verdict on her Eternal, hoping that I would approve. Our eyes met and there was only one word needed: “Yes.”
Because of a mortal with blue-eyes that shared a dream eternally.
My thoughts return to the present, where my dear friend waits on the other side of my office desk with a concerned expression. “Good memories?”
Raising my tea to him the answer came easily: “Always.” Then came the bemused smile my niece and I shared: “We’re still going to celebrate your birthday.”
He didn’t look at all disappointed in the revelation that plans were afoot, of course, not that I would expect him to be. It could be as simple as a cupcake with a candle in it for all he cared.
This is another of those covers where the final product looks relatively simple to achieve. Take a splash page featuring JOH, and then drop in the other two heroes on top of it, right? This wasn't quite that easy, as I had to do a lot of prep work with the initial image before anything could be added to it. I thought this would be a good candidate for a little behind the scenes view of a cover in progress. I hope you enjoy these mid-creation peeks, I'm considering making this a semi regular feature of the blog going forward for whenever there's a cover that has a deceptively tricky element in its creation.
Black and white. Includes Achilles’ hut, the Achaian fortifications, the Walls of Troy and Skaian Gates, and the Trojan Horse, as well as 53 characters! (Excluding Paris – he’ll be in an file update…)
Build two incredible multi-layered playsets: the throne room, based on Knossos and Arthur Evans’ ‘recreation’ (and almost to scale) and the Labyrinth, with moving walls and playable as a game!
I hope these provide a nice distraction, and good luck keeping cool! Remember to keep those blinds down and wear a cool damp towel round your shoulders! And even more luck if like me your child is far too young for any of these things and just wants to go outside
Finding art of Succubi in wedding dresses is something rather rare overall. Perhaps that’s not something considered often as a theme and I think that’s a bit of a shame. That said, not all succubi are exactly good, some of them are quite evil. But then there are those, like this week’s image, that are so very naughty…
Succubus – Wedding Dress by CountessGrey
This delightfully striking work of art is by the artist CountessGrey on DeviantArt and you can find the original page with this work here.
The gown is just so striking and perfect for her form, pose and expression. There’s a feeling of her being quite dominant and powerful, which I rather love. But it’s more that hint of what else lurks within her character that make me wonder and smile…
Gladiator Paper Dolls (Free!)
)
