‘Oh yeah, those.’

[“Alright- I heard a voice calling for me. Said it was in a place with water and white walls, but I’ve been through a lot of those before… hopefully I’m in the right one.” Asteria wraps the strap of her bag around herself again, making sure it doesn’t get wet. 

“If it’s hostile, however, I do have some weapons like my trusty sword right here. Don’t think my lighter will be useful though.”

Her fur is spiked up, alert. She doesn’t seem very happy to be here. 

“Water… I hate it so much.” Asteria groans, already tired of this. “Well, at least I can meet another person. Maybe.”

“I’m gonna keep this recording… just in case.”]

Hmmmm! Last year, if I were a typical starter I’d get my final evo. This year…quite a few! Slowbro, Archeops, Carracosta, etc. >u< 🎂

Large, inviting swathes of warm sunlight reflect on the white tiles, yet we never directly see the source of light. A choice to turn away.

Emily Dickinson once wrote “Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost/Outvisions paradise!” When imagining her death with her lover, Sue. There is something so tender with love and shame when Dickinson confessed she would rather cherish a cold eternity with Sue than religious acceptance and afterlife.

Safety and escape is offered just a little to the right yet each time without fail the choice is made to look at the shadows, curious and wanting more at the risk of danger deeper within. There is just so much restraint and longing in these renders. To know there is something nicer and still stand with your back to it. To prefer the dark, to risk getting lost just for the sake of it.