Scrivenings & Illuminations

delete dwarf paladin because she’s redundant (I have 3 other pallies on that server).

…roll hunter.

HURP 

baenling:

comforthawk:

sketchmourne:

a paladin buddy mentioned how dull our Avenging Wrath graphic is compared to newer spell effects and animations so this happened

I NEED THEM ALL RIGHT NOW

OH MY GOD MAKE THIS A THING

I stopped using the four-winged glyph because it makes you look like a fairy. >_<   It was WAY cooler when it used the full sized wings, even if it wasn’t as good as the others on this list.

(via jaraxxus)

Japanese logos. Both weird, and oddly direct in its expression.
I know this pain. Right here. Yep.

Japanese logos. Both weird, and oddly direct in its expression.

I know this pain. Right here. Yep.

(Source: iinejapanesetrademarks)

Castro Update!

I still haven’t got a better name yet.

Lo, and I have carted the poor boy to the vet and back. On the bright side, he’s actually silent in the car, so that’s something. 

As it turns out, the vet that did his initial x-rays is the same vet I use, which is a lucky thing because it let us see how things have changed since the injury up until now. It turns out, Castro didn’t just have a ‘fractured’ leg. His poor foreleg was broken clean in two, about halfway up the forearm. He was also bleeding from the mouth, having lacerated his tongue; evidently he was a car-strike victim. 

His mouth is fine now (although he still has both sets of his upper canines which makes it rather unnaturally toothy in there right now) but his leg is…well. It’s healing. But it isn’t exactly healing straight. The bones are still offset and slightly overlapping each other, and the leg has about a 10-degree angle in it. There isn’t much to do about it now, though, except hope it straightens out a bit and see what happens. He has an all-new splint though, which is a) not pink, and b) very evidently more comfortable, as unlike before I’ve seen him making the effort to walk on it instead of just scooting it along like a sled runner, and his mood has improved exponentially. 

Even if it heals slightly off, a mild limp isn’t really going to hurt matters; as long as he can walk on it and isn’t in pain, then no real worries. The alternative (since rebreaking it and pinning/plating it is expensive and doesn’t have a guaranteed outcome either) is simply removing the leg. Everyone’s hoping that won’t be necessary though. Two weeks will tell.

He also bit me, the bratling. Not like… a fear bite or anger bite, I was petting him and he was so happy to be scritched, he was nibbling my fingers, and he got my index finger back in his back teeth and /gnawed/. Hard. Let me tell you, those newly-erupted fresh adult carnassials are like razors. Oh well, so it goes. Overall he’s doing really well.

skeletorislove:

Skeletor Affirmations (by ghoulnextdoor)
TODAY I WILL SHARE MY HAPPINESS WITH A STRANGER.

skeletorislove:

Skeletor Affirmations (by ghoulnextdoor)

TODAY I WILL SHARE MY HAPPINESS WITH A STRANGER.

yutrio:

nadiaoxford:

cannonbarrage:

nadiaoxford:

I submit the intro for Hunchback of Notre Dame beats Circle of Life raw.

Especially since the former doesn’t have flocks of pink birds that immediately make me think, “Sure, Disney, you weren’t influenced at all by Osamu Tezuka. Tell us another one.”

This movie was surprisingly hardcore for a Disney retelling of Victor Hugo’s really screwed up story.

It also did a ton of great stuff with God and religion and Catholicism that somehow managed to still be about people and not bring “Why Religion Sucks” into the whole thing, which is aces.

One thing that surprises me is how well the animation has aged. Strangely enough, it looked weird at the time; we weren’t really used to traditional animation blended with computer backgrounds. But now that pretty much everything is computer animated, you can really appreciate how effin’ gorgeous the Cathedral backgrounds are.

Also, God Help the Outcasts is the most honest song featured in a Disney movie. “Honest” meaning it doesn’t feel manufactured specifically to be played in a suburbanite van ferrying kids to McDonalds. It’s raw, open, and genuine.

(Needless to say, there is nothing suburban about Hellfire, ho ho ho. Will we ever again see a Disney villain essentially sing, “Help me Mary, I have an unholy erection?”)

I never actually saw this movie in the theaters since I sort of “grew out” of Disney at the time (only to return to it in my twenties aaahahah)

But when I did finally see it, I was really surprised at how good this movie actually is.  Hunchback is on my top five list of favorite animated movies.

I loved this movie so hard. It had a phenomenal amount of depth given it had to be at least -showable- to kids. It also didn’t preach, either in the religion sense or the ‘we are making a STATEMENT OMG’ way. 

Even the ‘talking animals’ (the gargoyles) were fun, I liked them a lot. 

Some time after the movie was released, I went to Disneyland. They had a sort of ‘Renaissance faire’ style stage play based on the movie, using classic ‘traveling theatre’ staging and effects. It was phenomenal seeing the subject matter rendered in a fashion true to its historical period. I like to think it got at least a few kids interested in classical theatre.

(Source: disneydeviants)

nurse-alli:

icecreamandeviscerations:

I watched four people die this weekend, four people. Sounds horrifying right? Well, it is.
Surely these people must have been sweet little 90 year olds, who lived long happy lives, drifting quietly off into the night surrounded by family they love. Well, that is not my story, in fact, that’s never my story. My story is filled with people who woke up, got dressed, and started their day, just like you and I, having no idea that it would be their last.
The room above looks so benign, shiny and new, full of promise and cutting edge medical equipment, ready for whatever may roll through the doors. Exactly what you would want if you were the one lying in the bed. But, there is much more here than meets the eye. So many things, things that can’t be seen by those who haven’t stood in this place time and time again.
You may wonder what could hide here, what could be lurking behind the glass doors and freshly painted walls. Just what do I see when I look at this place? I see so many things. I see countless hours of hard work, sweat, and tears. I see a floor covered in blood, trash, gloves, and whatever else may land there in the middle of the mess. I hear gut wrenching screams, the indescribable sound of a weeping mother, and the words “time of death” many more times than I care to admit. I hear the pumping of the level one, the hum of a ventilator, slamming drawers, alarming monitors, and the loud sigh of relief when we “get them back.” I see gowns, trauma surgeons, confused patients, ET tubes, code carts, flushed faces, shaking hands, and countless lives, both saved and lost. You see, I have been on both sides of this bed, and I can tell you they are equally terrifying.
You may think that there is no way anyone could find peace here, or that there is any way to see beauty in this mess. To tell you the truth, some days I’m not sure either. Some days I leave defeated, I let the dark win, and I am certain there is no way I can work one more shift. Then, just when I know I can’t step back in that room, something amazing happens. We save a life, one, that’s all it takes, and you know you can pick up the pieces and carry on. I recently cared for a patient with dissecting AAA, scary shit, I don’t care how many times you’ve done it. This man drove himself to the hospital and arrested walking through the triage doors. Incredible timing right? Not only did he regain consciousness in the ED before going to the OR, he walked out of the hospital a week later, that’s right, walked out. AMAZING! How does that even happen? That shiny room worked its ass off that day and won, we won! I can’t describe the feeling. Nothing can compare to saving a life.
In the middle of the chaos it’s hard to see the significance of the work we do. We just power through whatever the task is at hand. Lines, labs, intubation, compressions, chest tubes, splints, the list goes on and on. It isn’t until after the event that we can step back and look at what we have done. What went well, what could have gone better, and come to grips with the fact that the person we just cared for was in fact a person, not a job, not a task, but a human being. Someone with a life, and a story of their own. For me, it’s in that very moment I find strength and peace in what we do. There is always something beautiful, even in the worst of situations. The pure will to fight, to live, and to carry on, even when it hurts to breathe, is what keeps me coming back for more.
So yes, that room can be a horrific place. It can be scary and lonely, but it can also be amazing and inspirational, a place of love and triumph. Each day, each patient, brings a new chance to fight, to win, and to find beauty in unthinkable circumstances. Behind those glass doors are many hidden things. Many things that most people will never see or feel. Things that have made me laugh, made me cry, built me up, and knocked me down. Most of these things can’t be shared, and that’s ok, they don’t really need to be. If you live it you understand why, and you also understand how it’s possible, to find peace here.

this gave me goosebumps.

I have amazing respect for ER folks. Both because they have to deal with all the life-or-death stuff ever&#8230; but also an awful lot of shit involving patients abusing them (either because they&#8217;re jerks. entitled jerks, or because they&#8217;re in so much pain they hate everyone), and the dumbos that go to the ER when three minutes on Google and a bandaid would&#8217;ve done. Or the drunks looking for a nice place to shack up for the night. Or the medication thieves. The ER gets all of this. I know I couldn&#8217;t do it. Props, guys. 

nurse-alli:

icecreamandeviscerations:

I watched four people die this weekend, four people. Sounds horrifying right? Well, it is.

Surely these people must have been sweet little 90 year olds, who lived long happy lives, drifting quietly off into the night surrounded by family they love. Well, that is not my story, in fact, that’s never my story. My story is filled with people who woke up, got dressed, and started their day, just like you and I, having no idea that it would be their last.

The room above looks so benign, shiny and new, full of promise and cutting edge medical equipment, ready for whatever may roll through the doors. Exactly what you would want if you were the one lying in the bed. But, there is much more here than meets the eye. So many things, things that can’t be seen by those who haven’t stood in this place time and time again.

You may wonder what could hide here, what could be lurking behind the glass doors and freshly painted walls. Just what do I see when I look at this place? I see so many things. I see countless hours of hard work, sweat, and tears. I see a floor covered in blood, trash, gloves, and whatever else may land there in the middle of the mess. I hear gut wrenching screams, the indescribable sound of a weeping mother, and the words “time of death” many more times than I care to admit. I hear the pumping of the level one, the hum of a ventilator, slamming drawers, alarming monitors, and the loud sigh of relief when we “get them back.” I see gowns, trauma surgeons, confused patients, ET tubes, code carts, flushed faces, shaking hands, and countless lives, both saved and lost. You see, I have been on both sides of this bed, and I can tell you they are equally terrifying.

You may think that there is no way anyone could find peace here, or that there is any way to see beauty in this mess. To tell you the truth, some days I’m not sure either. Some days I leave defeated, I let the dark win, and I am certain there is no way I can work one more shift. Then, just when I know I can’t step back in that room, something amazing happens. We save a life, one, that’s all it takes, and you know you can pick up the pieces and carry on. I recently cared for a patient with dissecting AAA, scary shit, I don’t care how many times you’ve done it. This man drove himself to the hospital and arrested walking through the triage doors. Incredible timing right? Not only did he regain consciousness in the ED before going to the OR, he walked out of the hospital a week later, that’s right, walked out. AMAZING! How does that even happen? That shiny room worked its ass off that day and won, we won! I can’t describe the feeling. Nothing can compare to saving a life.

In the middle of the chaos it’s hard to see the significance of the work we do. We just power through whatever the task is at hand. Lines, labs, intubation, compressions, chest tubes, splints, the list goes on and on. It isn’t until after the event that we can step back and look at what we have done. What went well, what could have gone better, and come to grips with the fact that the person we just cared for was in fact a person, not a job, not a task, but a human being. Someone with a life, and a story of their own. For me, it’s in that very moment I find strength and peace in what we do. There is always something beautiful, even in the worst of situations. The pure will to fight, to live, and to carry on, even when it hurts to breathe, is what keeps me coming back for more.

So yes, that room can be a horrific place. It can be scary and lonely, but it can also be amazing and inspirational, a place of love and triumph. Each day, each patient, brings a new chance to fight, to win, and to find beauty in unthinkable circumstances. Behind those glass doors are many hidden things. Many things that most people will never see or feel. Things that have made me laugh, made me cry, built me up, and knocked me down. Most of these things can’t be shared, and that’s ok, they don’t really need to be. If you live it you understand why, and you also understand how it’s possible, to find peace here.

this gave me goosebumps.

I have amazing respect for ER folks. Both because they have to deal with all the life-or-death stuff ever… but also an awful lot of shit involving patients abusing them (either because they’re jerks. entitled jerks, or because they’re in so much pain they hate everyone), and the dumbos that go to the ER when three minutes on Google and a bandaid would’ve done. Or the drunks looking for a nice place to shack up for the night. Or the medication thieves. The ER gets all of this. I know I couldn’t do it. Props, guys. 

(via ofpaperandponies)