I love it when you can pick up an animator’s quirks.
I’ve read in old interviews with Milt Khal’s fellow animators that he did the swaggle to purposefully show off. Moving the head in 3-d space is an exceptionally hard thing to do but Khal upped the level of difficulty to a place many animators wouldn’t go. Not only are they all doing the swaggle you’ll notice they are all TALKING while they are doing it. This is back in the days where you had to use a timing sheet to pace your animation and a head swaggle doesn’t work if its too slow or too fast so he had to figure out the right speed so it looked natural while the character finishes what they have to say while not interfering with the distinct mouth shapes. Not only did Khal do it without any shifting weight problems or timing issues he would often do it while moving the rest of the body. This isn’t his signature move just because he was good at it.This is his signature move because he was one of the only people skilled enough to DO IT AT ALL.
If you look in the mirror and don’t find yourself particularly attractive, don’t worry about it. You’re not ugly or anything, you’re just not your type.
don’t live with me if you’re not prepared for me to occasionally jump out from under your bed
me having a mental breakdown: I’m so useless
Gaud, unnaturally quickly shooting out from under my bed: NO FEELING BAD IN MY HOUSE
Me: get outta my house
Gaud, already resting feet on my dresser, :
me: *sighing bc i’m bored and I’m feeling like shit*
gaud: *jumps out of my closet wearing a party hat* none of that now let’s get some socks on you
Me: *starts crying*
Gaud: *crawls out of my dresser* wanna go roller skating
me: *smashes my drawing* FUCK art, i cant draw.
Gaud: *slithers out from the air vent* want some cake
Ok first of all this whole post is sort of concerning (but I love that) second of all I actually get scared of things in the dark sometimes and this helped me like now when I run across my dark room and jump on my bed I imagine gaud reaching out from underneath to boost me up instead of something grabbing my ankles to drag me under and it’s really comforting THANK YOU
After your parents found out you are gay and kicked you out, the only place left for you to go was the magical forest. Write about your life.
The birds began their chirping at the first signs of sunlight. A disgruntled yawn startled some of the birds that had been singing away in the treetops. As soon as Roderick finished stretching, he hastily took off his boots and clothes to streak into the lake. He was butt-naked and he felt no shame. Not here at least. There were no people living in or around this part of the forest. It was rumored that many dangerous creatures found their home here and that the darkest parts had swallowed men’s souls whole. Roderick thought it was perfect. Legends like these kept people at bay. He felt safe here. And being an outcast himself, he almost felt at home. Sometimes he could not sleep as he saw eyes preying on him in the distance. However, it seemed as if the birds enchanted their surroundings with their songs, keeping the darkness out. Once Roderick had finished his morning routine, he spruced himself up to the best of his abilities, strapped on his sword, and set out for the nearest town. Birds would sometimes stop mid-song as he passed underneath them, wondering where a roaring growl had come from – which, of course, had come from Roderick’s stomach.
He had not eaten in days and his hunting skills were practically nonexistent. Luckily, he was familiar with a bakery in the nearest town, Rosebarrow, and it had the most delicious bread throughout the land of Estria. On top of that, it was free for him most of the time.
The townsfolk would look at him in disgust from their front porches as soon as they laid eyes on him. His muddy boots and tattered clothes were almost certainly a sign he was an outcast. Roderick clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword when he heard two women talking in hushed voices as they walked by, glaring at him. It was the usual. It was the world he lived in and he had come to accept.
Roderick turned a corner and the air was suffused with the smell of freshly baked bread. He exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension in his body from encountering the townspeople and sauntered into the bakery. A bell chimed and soon after a young man came hurrying from the back room to welcome his customer.
“Roderick!” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s good to see you again.”
Roderick looked around, his eyes carefully inspecting the place. He had come here every week for the past six months and had learned to be cautious. The young man twiddled with his fingers, seeming to wait for Roderick to say something back or, at the very least, make eye contact.
“Is he here?” Roderick finally said.
“No”, the young man replied, his smile sobering up. “He is seeing some investors. He wants to go into the gold mining industry or something.”
Roderick didn’t reply. The young man took that as his cue, turned around to collect an arm full of loaves from the shelves behind him, and placed them on the counter. Roderick opened his bag and put the loaves inside. They were still warm, and for some reason a wave of sadness passed through his body.
The young man looked at him, his eyes trailing Roderick’s every movement as if he might disappear at any moment. When Roderick shoved the last loaf in his bag, the young man leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss.
Roderick recoiled. “Not now, Charlie!” he snapped. “In broad daylight?”
“Calm down, no one saw us,” said Charlie. But Roderick’s eyes widened in fear. “I just told you my dad is meeting up with investors and you know I would never kiss you if anyone was around. Trust me. Why are you always so anxious about this?“
His body stiffened at the remark. “Why?” shouted Roderick. “Are you seriously asking me this question?” Roderick swiveled on his heels and made for the door.
“Wait. Wait!” Charlie hurried after him. "I am sorry. That was foolish. Please stay.”
Roderick stared at him incredulously. “Do you know how many of us are killed every single day, Charlie?” Tears crept up in the corner of his eyes. “For real, what were you thinking? If we continue to keep this up, it’s going to get us both killed! Fucking killed, Charlie! The Royal Guard kill people like us on the spot!”
Charlie stepped closer. His fingers gently wiping away the tears streaking across Roderick’s face. “I know,” he whispered.
“Don’t you dare touch me like this!” Roderick batted his hand away. Roderick reached for the doorknob, but before he could open the door Charlie had slapped him in the face.
“You are the man I love,” his fist pulled back, ready to deal a heavy blow. “You…,” he stammered. “You… of all people. Don’t you dare…,” Charlie lowered his fist and started sobbing.
Roderick knew where Charlie was going. He used to be more certain of himself. But the more he got to know himself, the less of him was left. The people of Estria didn’t accept two men loving each other.
“This is not good for any of us, this secrecy. It’s eating us alive!”
“It’s eating you alive” Charlie retorted.
When I was about to leave the house for good…,” Roderick said, clenching his fist, “…my father walked up to me, opened the door, and said he was not going to judge me, but he’d be happy to break my neck so God could do the judging a little sooner, and shoved me outside.”
Charlie fell silent. Roderick had told him everything about his past, and he could not possibly forget something like that. "I understand,“ he whispered.
“No!” he shot Charlie an icy stare. “I don’t think you understand.” He opened the door and stormed out. The bell chimed violently as he smashed the door shut.
The steps on the stairs creaked. “Charlie?” came a voice. Charlie jerked around and froze instantly.
“I… I thought you were out of town,” Charlie said, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror.
“You are a sin, my disgrace of a son.” ———————— The next morning Roderick woke up exhausted. He barely slept and the few dreams he had were all about Charlie never wanting to speak to him again. Charlie had only tried to reconcile, he shouldn’t have stormed off like he had. Roderick packed his things and once again set out for Rosebarrow.
Upon arriving at the bakery he noticed that a rather large crowd had gathered around its entrance. As he made his way through the crowd, he passed a man who said, “I heard his own father has done him in. Praise that man.” Another woman said, “It’s probably going to take a while to scrub that sinful blood out from the floor.”
Terror swept quick as lightning over Roderick’s face. His heart raced as he made his way to the edge of the crowd. He noticed a woman speak to two men in red cloaks. ‘That must be the royal guard,’ thought Roderick. “Could you describe to me what the man looked like?” inquired one of the guards. “Man? He’s an abomination! Just like that scum Charlie you found dead on the floor this morning.”
Roderick’s heart almost pounded out of his chest and he could barely make out what the woman was saying among the thunder in his head. “He has curly hair and green eyes and is about this height,” to which the woman rose her hand a foot above her head. “And he has a sword with a very distinguishable guard. An owl!” Roderick’s heart might as well have stopped at that very moment, but instead it was pounding so quickly and loud that people around him might have heard it. He glanced at his sword, quickly covered the guard with his hand, and made his way out of the crowd as fast as he could, fighting back the tears that might give him away. All he wanted was to get out of that place, out of that town.
He arrived in the woods two hours later. Charlie was dead. Roderick’s only reason to live had been murdered by his own father. He stared blankly into the lake. The water looked serene and darkly inviting. He trudged off into the lake and continued walking limply against the rising water that slowly swallowed him whole. He dived in and tried to stay underwater by holding on to the vegetation growing on the bottom. But no matter how hard Roderick tried, he wouldn’t drown. His head parted the water and he gasped for air before disappearing into the lake again as quickly as he had surfaced. He kept trying to drown himself, but after failing a dozen times he finally gave up. Roderick crawled out of the water and slammed the bank with his fists, making water and sand splash up around him. “Is this what is left of me?” he cried. “How could I have let this happen?” He unsheathed his sword and pressed the point to his chest. But upon seeing the sword he remembered Charlie’s words: “This sword is an heirloom. But we never even look at it. Here, you can have it.” He remembered how Charlie looked at him as he handed Roderick the sword. “May it protect you in the forest and guide you to greater heights. There’s something about you, and I’m not quite sure what it is, but I think you can change this land for the better. I think it’s your eyes…they look so determined.”
Roderick had accepted the sword rather hesitantly. “Well if you insist, then I shall hereby promise that this sword will not only serve to protect my own ass, but will also serve to protect you.” And then they kissed and laughed, and kissed a little more. Roderick had no idea where his determination had gone since that day, but he started to suspect that it wasn’t the forest that would swallow his soul whole, but rather the people living in Estria themselves.
A breeze rustled through the trees when suddenly the wind picked up. Birds chirped loudly as their branches swayed. Roderick clenched his sword, his eyes darting around the trees. As quickly as it started, the wind fell silent. Roderick’s mouth fell open in utter bewilderment. It might have been his imagination, but there, only a few feet in front of him, stood Charlie with his back turned to Roderick. His eyes widened as he used his arms to crawl forward, his hand trembling violently as it reached out for Charlie.
“Charlie!” his eyes welling up. His face was soon a mixture of tears and cold water that had dripped from his hair. “I am so sorry!” He forced his body up despite the exhaustion and ran towards Charlie. But he could not will his body for long, his legs were shaking and quickly gave out, making him fall back to his knees. Charlie did not move. “I am a coward,” Roderick began, “I promised I would protect you but even that I couldn’t do.” He waited for a response, but none came. “Charlie?” Still nothing. “Charlie, I love you.” Roderick was desperate. “Charlie, what do you want me to say? Say something. Please…,” he said as he dragged himself forward. And just when he was almost able to graze Charlie’s feet, Charlie turned around and held out his hand, smiling.
Roderick could feel his blood gushing through his veins as he looked at Charlie’s hand hovering in front of his face. He grasped it, and Charlie helped him up. For a moment they looked at each other. The storm raging in Roderick’s eyes calmed. The wind started to pick up again, and his lover vanished as quickly as he had appeared.
Night fell and Roderick’s sobs turned into anger as he rummaged in his bag and found that the once warm bread was cold. “Estria and all its people can go fuck themselves!” he shouted at the clouds above him. ‘You were always there for me. Your kind and loving self. You gave me this sword and bread and picked me up when no one else would,’ he thought as he clenched his fist, nails digging so deep into his skin that it began to bleed.
All of a sudden, it was as if the fire the townsfolk said he would burn in for all of eternity filled his heart. Roderick stood tall. “No one will define me! I will define myself, and if their God doesn’t praise me, I will praise myself!” The wind continued to howl. “I promised I would protect you with this sword and I will.” He lifted it high in the air and looked at the sword as it glistened in the moonlight. “Do you hear me?!” He shouted. “In your memory…,” tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, “… I promise to protect everyone who’s different like us. Even if it costs me my life.” He pounded his chest. “Do you hear me?” he shouted again. “I shall fight. Nor the king’s army nor the people of Estria shall defy me. I am going to train and I will proclaim myself a knight to make sure anyone can be whoever the hell they want to be and love whoever the hell they want to love. I will look after them as you looked after me. This ends here!” And even though tears were rolling down his face, his eyes grew more and more determined.
—–3 years later—–
Roderick had taken on an apprenticeship as a blacksmith. He’d promised to work diligently and refused any form of compensation as long as the blacksmith taught him how to use his sword. He worked the iron, and with every blow of the hammer he remembered his vow. Each evening he practiced his stances and technique as if his life depended on it – and it did. After three years of toiling every day without pause, he felt confident in his skills. Roderick took the final test, forged his own armor, and passed with flying colors. “Remarkable, the owl elements you managed to put in this armor,” said his teacher, his face beaming with approval. “It’s outstanding.”
The blacksmith had gifted him a black stallion. Together on his horse Valicius, Roderick forged ahead, looking for other knights to join his order. He galloped to all quarters of the compass, sleeping in the scorching heat of deserts and camping in the darkest of caves.
Seven months passed and the clatter of hooves that long had been the only sound to keep him company was soon a rolling thunder that would turn the heads of anyone who heard it. For now, riding beside Roderick were seven other knights that had joined the order:
The Pink Eagle, a princess whose father ordered the death of her beloved Anna, by lashing her until she collapsed.
The Black Arrow, who never missed a shot except when it comes to romance. He carries a bow made of entangled vines.
The Gator, a pan knight who was banished and left to his own devices in the swamps of Argar, where he wrestled alligators and gained strength.
The Eclipse, who was excommunicated after a church member found he took too much liking in men and women, and his non-binary sibling Deimos, who is so strong they can uproot fully grown trees with their bare hands.
The Diamond, a trans woman to who people threw stones at after a fellow mine worker once caught her wearing a dress. Her armor is made out of the strongest materials, inset with a diamond placed over her heart, that no stone will ever be able to scratch.
And the Ace, who refused to make love and have children after she was betrothed to a handsome nobleman. She was thrown to the wolves but was quickly accepted by them.
Grass streaked underneath the thudding of hooves, but vanished as they came to a halt. There they stood, side by side on their horses, on the edge of a cliff that overlooked Rosebarrow.
“Today”, began Roderick, “I am honored and blessed to have you as my friends. Three years ago I made a vow…,” he said, looking up, thinking about Charlie “… that I would protect anyone who is queer with this sword.” He heaved the sword to show the other knights. “The king’s army and the people of Estria kill us for what? Because I like men? Because they don’t understand you are a woman? We are a disgrace they say. Say we should burn. But I don’t believe that! Nobody but me decrees what I can and cannot be!” He banged his chest. “We share the same pain and I have nothing but respect and admiration that you joined me on this mission. This isn’t my mission anymore, it’s ours.”
“There are kids, people, who go through life with their heads down, ashamed of who they are. They have been taught that who they are is wrong and they can’t even be themselves, and if they are, they get punished. Accepting yourself, loving yourself, being proud of yourself, it’s something all those people in Estria have. They are probably not even aware of what a privilege that is. And they call us a sin? Us? Fuck them. Being able to be yourself is a goddamn human right! And nobody, nobody, is going to take that away from us.”
“We have been through a lot. The battle is by far not only fought in the realm of the physical. The hardest battle is in our mind and hearts. But we are strong, we have overcome many trials, and you have given me the courage to stand up for others! To walk with pride!”
“Tonight we ride for Rosebarrow and let it be known we have arrived!
That we have their back
Because who are we?”
“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!” the other knights bellowed, their horses rearing up.
“The king’s army does not expect us to win
But we will never surrender!
Weakness is not in our hearts!
We will look at our fellow queers who struggle and fight day in and day out
And we will draw strength from them!
Because who are we?”
“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”
“Never will we let them fall, never will we let them down
We will protect them
Because who are we?”
“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”
“It’s just the eight of us now, and it might be the eight of us forever
We cannot expect others to ride with us
But we continue to fight for them!
And welcome everyone with open arms
So we can walk with pride together!
Because who are we?”
“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”
“WHO ARE WE?”
“WE ARE THE PRIDE KNIGHTS!”
This made me tear up
As someone who has struggled with his orientation for a long time, this story hits really close to home and is very important to me. I reached out to @caeryth asking if we could do more with it. We want to have a website and create more Pride Knights’ content to inspire and empower others. We want everyone to know that your differences are what make you unique and that you are valid no matter how you identify yourself. We are both students and are short on money to buy a website but this is going to happen no matter how long it takes. However, we’ve made merch for our fellow Pride Knights who want to help out. Meet us:
There are t-shirts, sweatshirts and hoodies. The print is on the back and the Pride Knights’ logo on the front.
Join us and inspire and empower others. Show that it’s okay to differ from the masses. Show your support for others and your pride in yourself – celebrate what makes you, you.
We have each other’s backs!
We stand up for our fellow queers who fight day in and out and we draw strength from them!
It’s sad that toxic game culture is so prevalent cuz like. As someone who has ended up in random matches with kids before, I can attest to how fucking easy it is to reverse and un-teach shitty attitudes in kids.
Example: I downloaded Friday the 13th because it’s free on psn. I dunno how to play, so I just enter quick play and I’m matched with 3-4 kids on mic. Immediately on mic they’re shitty and disparaging to each other. They laugh at each others deaths, they actively work against team mates and self sabotage, they call each other “fags”, etc. From the sounds of the voices they cannot be older than 13-14.
I put on my mic and just decide I ain’t havin it. I am nice. I thank them for barricading doors or leaving me items. When they break free from Jason’s grasp I say “good job!” or I try to help them. One kid survived for most of the match by himself. When he dies, I tell him he did a fantastic job.
The mood shift is practically INSTANT. These kids almost immediately stop being dick heads. They start encouraging each other and being kind. After the match all of them try to friend request me. Which should tell you a couple of things:
A) kids want to be kind, and they want to have a nice time playing games. But encounters with adults like me or so rare that they’ve trained themselves to instantly put on a toxic, shitty, defensive veneer when encountering any new person online. It’s literally just THAT EASY to not groom a horrible gaming community, it’s just that NO ONE does it.
B) the speed of which they all tried to friend me was cute, but paints for me such a sad picture? Like these kids are SO desperate to find people to play with who aren’t crappy jerks. They played with me for 10 minutes TOPS and all instantly tried to reach out to me.
tl;dr: The kids are alright. Adults are shit heads.
I cant agree with this post more
I witnessed something similar with my younger brother (this was when he was In fifth grade so bear with me here) and his friends. The teacher assigned for them to build a somewhat accurate spanish mission in Minecraft because their school had gotten some iPads and she needed to assign them something other than a PowerPoint.
Now here’s the thing. Most of these boys, my brother included, have ADD/ADHD. About a week into the project all they had in their shared world was chaos. Somebody filled the place with tnt and lit it up. Holes everywhere. Whenever one would attempt to try and build something (mostly wood huts and not the actual project) it would be destroyed within minutes as the boys began to insult each other heavily and complain that the design was ugly.
I brought my own ipad with me and decided to sit with the boys while they continued their reign of terror. I joined the world and built a hallway out of brick at the very center of this war zone. Immediately one of them tried to destroy it under the impression that “it looks bad”.
“Well, what should I make it out of?”
“Diamond.”
The ten year old mind is a mystery to me…
Anyway, then I showed him some pictures similar to these:
I reasoned that it would be easier to sway this kid toward another pretty block than trying to get him to stick to the materials of the time, so I asked him if he would like to help me replace my brick design with quartz (eh, it’s white).
Bam! One of the ten year old anarchists is dutifully building me a glittering gem hallway for our insanely rich monks.
The other three are off somewhere still yelling at each other and setting off explosives, but we have something built. Much to my surprise the kid asked if he could build the church next because he “wanted to build the most important part”.
Here’s where I learned something important. I don’t have ADD or ADHD but as I said before my brother does. When he gets fixated on something, he’s really gets into it. Once a few minutes had passed and this kid already had four walls up I decided to grid up the entire mission. One gets the church, one gets the farm, etc.
After playing the game with them for an hour, I had a pretty good idea of where each kid should go.
Church kid, I found, was very particular about materials and shape(hence his hangup over the brick). I gave him free reign over the outer walls of the mission and showed him the reference pictures to get him started.
My brother liked the farms most (he was building dirt domes over the cows don’t ask me how I made this connection it just worked, okay), so he was in charge of building pens for the animals.
Another kid was, at first glance, very loud and bossy when it came to decorating (constantly said we were making chairs wrong). Turns out he likes interior design, like putting benches and beds in the little rooms, so his bossiness was just frustration with my brother’s artistic sense I guess.
Another was very good with placing trees and plants around the exterior (I guessed this because he covered the place in a ridiculous amount of trees and I asked him if he would like to know where they are supposed to go). He got to make a vineyard for us and organized how the crops should go.
So how did it turn out?
Actually very nice!!
So what did we learn? Kids actually like to play games and be praised for their creativity and intuition. If I had just told them to stop messing around rather than direct their attention to areas within their interests, they never would have gotten anything done.
After an hour of gaming they:
Mirrored my language; “thank you!”, “which part are you working on?”, “I like this block.”
Realized each other’s strengths; “hey [kid name] can you help me with the roof?” “How do you make the big trees [kid name]?”
Were able to articulate exactly what they did or didn’t like without using force; “that looks good!”, “how about we put it there?”, “I don’t like that block, how about this one?”
On the plus side, since we moved the game file to my device for safekeeping, I now have a cute little souvenir of the time I played Minecraft with four ten year olds.
This is a really long post, but it’s super important. In games like Fortnite where you’ll find lots of kids, it’s important (if you can) to steer them away from toxicity. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve run into kids who talk like toxic adults and the act of just being nice to them completely turns them around.
Welcome to Chaos 