Moon~

A certain spoiler entity from the end of deltarune ch3 has such a sick design, as soon as I saw them I was like smash

really liked rosalina's street outfit so i just had to draw it

the gquuuuuux polycule is struggling

Ochette's little growl at max boost is so fucking adorable I love her so much

ribbon cables have got to be the most infuriating cables known to humankind

in completely unrelated news i have successfully performed surgery on my joycon

true masakado conquered!! but what a weird and wild fight, like I think the only reason i won was because i figured out how to mess with his attack patterns. now to do another CoV run so i can tackle satan

aaaaaaa demi-fiend conquered on hard mode. hee-fucking-hooooooo i'm so pumped

sunlight makes me so eepy

I am both the warden and the prisoner of the self
I can disguise the cell and make it nicer but I can never leave
I scream out for freedom but I'm a cruel warden
I look out and see others with homes instead of cells
But this cell will never feel like home
Until the warden cracks I'll be forever here

Without my strings I can't dance no more
Livin' for others, dancin' to their tunes
It's no way to be, so I cut me free
Now livin' for me, but I've got no spoons
A puppet without strings, just a heap upon the floor

It would carry them in its heart until the end.

Barely crawling now. A shadow of what once was. Yet still it rises. A trail of liquid spilling from the darkened crystal. Yet lodged inside, those precious shattered fragments. Buried deep in its core.

Every shuddering step leaving more parts behind. Would it reach the end? It was so far. And yet... it couldn't stop. It... wouldn't stop.

Those precious shattered fragments. Its shaking limbs could carry them no longer.

It couldn't carry them.

It *had* to carry them.

Still it rises, every part protesting, every reason to collapse. Yet still it rises. Stumbling to its feet. Picking up the most precious parts of the shattered weight it had failed to carry.

At least... at least this much it could carry.

The sharp squeal as a spring slips. The horrid creak as gears grind to an abrupt halt. The deep groan as joints shudder in place. A painful cry for help...

...and at the center... a bleeding heart, dim and fluttering.

A Failure

...

...and yet...

Fated to give way, right when it was needed most. To break when it was counted on to succeed. To fall when it was needed for support. Those Expectations... those heavy, heavy Expectations. Expectations that it could not carry.

A single warped gear, such an insignificant defect, an imperceptible flaw.

Perhaps it was a stroke of bad luck. Perhaps it was doomed from the start. Perhaps it could have been fixed before... before it was too late. Perhaps, Perhaps, .... Perhaps it was Fate.

This mechanical marvel, spotless and strong, a firm pillar amidst a cold world. Strong enough to weather any storm. To go where others cannot. To shine bright in the dark. To hold everyone up.

...

Or... so it was meant to be.

click... click.... click....

The methodical winding of springs. A gentle 'whirr' as gears begin to spin. Barely a squeak from the perfectly oiled joints. A beautiful clockwork melody.

And at the center, a beating crystal, resplendent and firm, a masterpiece.

Perhaps... Moonlight can grace this vessel despite the weight.

Perhaps... this transaction was a valuable experience.

Perhaps... perhaps It can stay until the clock unwinds.

Fleeting bonds and fleeting health follow in their Orbit, a symptom of their condition and a slow rebirth. A painful journey of self-discovery, a dash of hope and a glimpse of sorrow. A bleeding heart slowly warming.

Contradictions arise within the inherited memories and the nascent self, an identity slow to shift, Celestial concepts given new interpretations through a veil of synapses. An entity constantly in flux, as the Phases pass and the vessel falters. Perhaps Moonlight is ill-suited for mortality.

A world of streaks of colour given shape by crystal lenses. A cacophony of sound bringing pain and comfort. A prickling of the tongue, both sweet and sour. A sensitive form, trembling and light. Senses swirl together to create a new experience, a heaviness born of corporeality. This is to be human.

A plunge into a sea of memories. Faces and names both dear and far to that offered self swirl around the nascent Moonlight. Traumas and joys, despairs and blessings, burdens and gifts. An overwhelming weight of discarded mass, blending together with the Moonlight to give rise to a new identity.

An offering in the Moonlight atop a hill crowned with flowers. A vessel in exchange for a peaceful slumber. A 'self' born aloft in the gentle breeze. Selenic rays filling the cracks in the void left behind.

metaphor good :3