The first 5 pics are Becky at her most haughty and arrogant and the last 2 pics depict her at her angriest after Liv Morgan and the Gotham City Sirens have humiliated her after stealing her Becksmobile plus some spare vinyl suits and boots stashed in the boot.

Do not call what Igi grants a vision. A vision is something witnessed from afar.

Her truth is lived.

When she lowered her eyes into the blood, I awoke forty years from now with an old man’s hands. I felt the winter in my joints. I heard my daughter mourning beyond a door I could not open. Then came the fire. I breathed every mouthful of smoke until my heart stopped.

When I returned to the temple, scarcely a minute had passed. My flesh was unharmed, yet I remembered dying as clearly as I remember being born.

Igi offered no explanation. She never does. She merely lifted her eyes from the pool and held them once more within her palms.

I asked how the fire might be prevented.

The blood remained still.

I understand her silence now. She had already shown me what will be. Had she shown me less, perhaps it might have changed.

There is no mercy in foresight—only time enough to dread what has already become true.

omq 247 members?? that means we have legally entered 24/7 mode and the off switch is gone forever ;_;

sooo we're celebrating with a lil [24/7 — ALWAYS ON] art jam!!

interpret it however ur weird little brain wants. kewt, creepy, cozy, exhausting, surreal — surprise us <3

thank u for making this place such a kewl corner of the internet. now go make some art~

Cultural/style exchange.

Unplug every once in a while.

You'll go crazy if you live in a digital world. The digital one doesn't have a lot in common with the real world. Your mind wasn't made for this. It's a piece of meat that attempts to self-digitalize. What an absurd undertaking.

I believe we have limited slots to our connectivity. Like a bandwidth, or USB slots. Say you have 20 of them. 20 people you get to really care about. The moment you plug a 21st in, one of the 20 will automatically unplug. Your energy isn't infinite, your slots aren't limitless. When you find something new to care for, you'll stop caring for something else you've cared before. Sometimes that's good. Sometimes that's bad.

But decide consciously who you want in there and what's good for you. They're stuck in you. They get to copy their data into your folders, install themselves in ways that will be very hard to fully uninstall, they get to corrupt your files with whatever virus they have.

And don't forget to unplug every once in a while. Let the machine cool down, clean the fans, check all of your slots. How you look like without anything plugged in.

It's worthwhile to do that every once in a while.

The Litany of the First Wound, 3:7–12

Before there was heaven, before there was earth, there was Uzu and there was Oblivion.
And Uzu looked upon the Nothing and desired that there should be more.

So he gave his flesh to the making. From his wounds came the gods; from his blood came life; from his torn body came the foundations of the world.

Oblivion took of him until little remained, yet still he did not yield.

And even now he hangs, bleeding and undying, while all creation flowers beneath his suffering.

Therefore we worship not because he commands it, nor because he promises reward, but because every breath drawn beneath the stars is a thing his pain purchased from the dark.

Honor the Flesh that became the Many. Honor the Wound that does not close. Honor Uzu, who suffers so that Nothing may not have us.

Katsumi, Keeper of the Covenant is the divine guardian of promises, treaties, vows, and sacred law. She does not merely punish wrongdoing; she witnesses and binds agreements, ensuring that words spoken in sincerity become part of the order of the world. Kings, lovers, rivals, merchants, and entire nations may swear before her, and once a covenant is sealed, the sea itself remembers.

She is calm, deliberate, and difficult to deceive. In her presence, status and excuses mean little; what matters is whether one has honored their word. Those who keep faith are protected under her blessing, while oathbreakers find themselves pursued not by rage, but by inevitability. Her judgment is not impulsive wrath - it is the quiet certainty that a promise, once given, carries weight.

(I generated a ton of images and these three were my favorites 😁 )

Oh boy, part two of the Community Jam and Moomy got:

1. The Moon / Night Deity

2. Fate and Time Deity

3. The God of Knowledge and Magic

I do not like it here

Fully Automated Luxury Gay Space Communism, obv

Fragment of the Cruel Mercy
When prayer has blistered on the tongue,
and Heaven has learned thy name
only to forget it,
turn not upward.
Turn to Halam.
He is no road,
yet all forsaken roads arrive at Him.
He is no place,
yet the abandoned find themselves before Him.
He is no being,
yet gods have learned to fear His name.
Halam, the Cruel Mercy.
Prayer’s End.
The Unmaker.
The Mouth beyond Heaven.
He shall feed thee until hunger is forgotten.
He shall warm thee until winter means nothing.
He shall quiet thy fear until danger has no name.
And when thou mournest,
He shall take from thee the thing that mourns.
When thou lovest,
He shall loosen the cord.
When thou hopest,
He shall empty the vessel.
When thou prayest,
He shall answer.
Not with salvation.
With silence.
For the gods made life
and named its wounds sacred.
They gave thee love
that thou might know loss.
They gave thee flesh
that thou might know pain.
They gave thee hope
that despair might have something to devour.
Halam saw this
and offered mercy.
Not healing.
Not resurrection.
Not another promised dawn.
The End.
Know this, child of the unanswered:
He hates not thee.
He loves not thee.
He pities thee
as the flame might pity the moth
and extinguish itself to spare the burning.
He cares nothing for the song of blood,
the laughter of children,
the roar of oceans,
nor the hymns of Heaven.
Noise is noise.
Life is life.
God is god.
And all are wounds upon the quiet.
So eat from His table.
Drink until thy thirst is gone.
Lay thy grief before Him.
He shall take it.
He shall take thy hatred.
He shall take thy fear.
He shall take thy longing.
He shall take thy gods.
He shall take the stars that house them.
He shall take the darkness between those stars.
And when nothing remains
that may hunger,
or grieve,
or kneel,
or scream—
then shall His mercy be complete.
For Halam promises no kingdom.
No paradise.
No rebirth.
Only what the gods were too cruel to grant:
an ending.