101 Evil Schemes For Dnd From The Dragon Magazine Annual From 2000

Alrighty, here's another scene from the novel I'm (very slowly) writing -------------------------

In the performance hall’s backstage restroom a young woman paced back and forth as she scrolled through instructions on her phone. She had a job to do, she was here to make sure that this was the performers’ final show. There were five targets, identical clones masquerading as “sisters” who formed a k-pop group called Blackhearts. A record company owned by the media conglomerate that she was currently working for held the rights to their music, and their last few albums had not sold well. They had become disposable.

A twinge of guilt ran through her as she saved the performers’ image to her phone. These weren’t corporate spies or power hungry schemers gunning for a sudden promotion, they were performers who’s hype was waning. They needed a PR team, not an assassin, but PR teams were expensive while a half-dozen bullets were not only cheap but could also bring in a quick profit. Sales of their final album would go up for a time, the group’s overhead would disappear, and the company could sign the next up and coming artist while they were still on the rise. It was disgusting, and she hated what she was about to do. She turned to the sink and stared into the dingy bathroom mirror.

“I can’t just not do it,” She said to nobody in particular, guilt and anger growing deep within her. She gazed at her neck in the mirror, picturing the device that lay just beneath her skin. “I have to do it. I don’t have a choice,” she murmured, tapping her foot anxiously. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” She paused, took a deep breath, and shoved the growing guilt and anger as deep down as she could. She had a job to do, she could address these feelings later.

She turned her attention back to her phone and uploaded her target’s photo into the app that controlled her cybernetics. A familiar ache ran beneath her crawling skin as her appearance began to change. Her face grew longer, thinner, accentuated by high cheekbones. Short, wavy red hair darkened, straightened, and grew until it was a shining black that flowed down to the small of her back. Emerald green eyes turned sky blue and tan freckled skin became an unblemished pale. When the changes finished she looked to the mirror and gave a cold grin. Nobody would think twice about a performer walking into her own dressing room.

So I digital painted this, I started out following a Bob Ross tutorial (Secluded Bridge) but then we hit a little waterfall and I liked the waterfall so much that I ended up doing my own thing instead.

in absolute tears about the pride module at my work

REBLOG IF YOU ARE HELLA BORED AND WOULDN’T MIND SOME CURIOUS ANONS.

since mrs, ms, and mr are all descended from the latin word magister, i propose the gender neutral version should be mg, short for "mage"

does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

Why is this age restricted?

Nevermind, I know why now

I think this essay is a work of art in itself. Amazing!