guys i'm kind of obsessed with the fact that my latest drawings were actually made for cards!! they're not playing cards, just collectibles for a card trading flashmob we have here in my area. i'm pretty sure some artists on twitter do that too: draw, print and then exchange cards with their ocs for other artists' character cards. i've started less than a month ago but i already have a pretty solid collection hehehe and i've met lots of cool people this way. i mostly exchange cards at art markets in my city but i also meet with people for card trades only and send/receive letters too, it's very fun. summer's card is a limited edition kind of thing so it looks different.

i highly recommend organizing something similar in your area or finding out if people already do that. great way to meet and befriend artists and to hear nice stuff about your art/characters!!!!! seriously it makes wonders to my serotonin levels. we only do that with original characters and creations (no fandom canon characters but fan chars are allowed) and have a fixed card format (63x88 mm) so it fits into collectible card albums

(sorry there's no translations for back sides, it's mostly jokes i don't find funny enough to translate from russian lmao + contact info)

well. MANY stuff ovidio does is pretty awkward for andy and oscar. he has a bit of, how do i put it, war-crimey energy to him. but no, murdering the whole mojave brotherhood branch is too much even for him haha, plus he's not involved in the main quest line at all. he completes only side quests for the ncr, like most of stuff in mccaran, bitter springs, forlorn hope, camp golf (including The Talk with chief hanlon which definitely left an impression on ovidio), etc. he also was the one who completed the white wash quest, making tom anderson turn himself in but keeping water shortage a secret for a while (arcade's pretty pissed about it and he doesn't like ovidio in general, it's mutual). in addition, ovidio doesn't follow the ncr blindly. he's pretty similar to cass in his world view and he would 100% break ncr laws to do something he really needs to be done. he believes in retribution and taking "justice" into his own hands if the system fails to do that. but he also respects order and people who can build and maintain their own communities. the whole thing with tom anderson was about this conflicted respect: anderson breaks the law to make something big happen and it works. ovidio could disagree as much as he wants but he can't argue with results. in the end of the day, ovidio "needed" anderson to be punished but he didn't want other people to suffer for it. i also feel like he would use this secret as a way to keep other followers of the apocalypse "in line", 'cause he's not a big fan of anarchists and doesn't trust them just like most ncr-aligned people (and definitely blames them for parting ways with the ncr). and i bet you can tell it becomes VERY messy as oscar achieves independence for vegas lmao

you can interpret it like that! oscar definitely could die before arcade and most of his friends but i don't have a fixed headcanon or a story about it

in my mind this panel is about how many deaths arcade (and almost anyone from the wastelands) had seen. the mundanity of death and grief. it could be about arcade visiting his mother's grave (works pretty well to me since i've opened the story with arcade being held and "called" a cottonflower by her). it could be foreshadowing for arcade's death. it could be about anybody else, even arcade witnessing someone else's flowers on someone else's grave. or it could be about how oscar is the type of person you could mourn one day, too, because of his dangerous lifestyle. he had cheated death (not once and not twice) but somehow it feels unnatural to people around him and to himself. i feel like the remnants have similar vibes and they think similar thoughts (survival guilt basically). they're "regular" people, not even particularly "good" ones; they've risked their lives countless times, they've lost their purpose and their future, but who eventually ends up dead? the good-natured (probably) gannons, the only ones with a kid and with this whole intelligent mystique around them (and arcade himself has so many ways to die it feels almost like his destiny). also that's why i compare oscar to judah kreger and cannibal johnson in this comic. especially johnson — he has basically the same lifestyle as oscar (a drifter and a mercenary of sorts) and he's a dead man walking the very moment you meet him. and yet. him and oscar survive. for how long?

so basically the way i see it: oscar *should* be dead but he's not and it sure as hell doesn't feel right (he's a miracle and an oddity of sorts, it's very unusual for such person to change the whole political landscape of mojave). and arcade *should* have a future ahead of him but, speaking of mentioned foreshadowing, he more likely dies or ends up a nobody (he's a case of "wasted potential", a person who was special almost by birth but ended up special only to people who knew him personally, in the context of the comic it's oscar himself and arcade's mom — people who see him as a "cottonflower"). thematically oscar and arcade are like polar opposites

Impatience: the real cause of Oscar Ramirez’s and Valeria’s deaths

Although Democrat open borders advocates immorally enticed Oscar Ramirez to head for America, it was his own foolish impatience that killed him and his child.

I’m not going to include in my post the photo showing the bodies of Oscar Alberto Martinez Ramirez and his two-year-old daughter Valeria, lying dead in the Rio Grande. That poor little girl has already been exploited enough.

Democrats are…

Voy

dibujándome el secreto de tu nombre

mientras delineo

con lentitud

el perfecto margen de tus labios.

                                            Voy

entre el aroma desolado del incienso

y los cristales empañados del amor hacia

el principio de tu emblema en las mañanas,

donde raíces y espumas dolorosas nacen

en el peregrino gravitar de los vientos.

Voy provocando la tentativa del silencio,

construyendo un abismo entre mis manos

                                  y tu cuerpo

cuando el bostezo de las calles

nos devuelve la realidad.

Despacio, como en una habitación oscura,

busco el límite que me entrega la soledad

y lo prohibido. El juego de las horas

conserva la ingenuidad de lo incierto,

cuando por obrar del aliento tibio

descubro América en tu vientre infinito.

Prosigo la virtud en este oficio de infante,

abrazando verdades y perfectas historias

de colonias devoradas

por la ambición de un gemido.

El descubrimiento de orillas pálidas

                         y un horizonte baldío

me recuerda el menudo divagar por tu sombra.

Voy, deambulando entre tu mar

como un naufragio de líneas rotas,

remando con fuerza contra la obediencia

del tiempo, hundiéndome en tu libertad

con el absurdo espíritu de palabras y juramentos.

Sigo aquella imagen,

el hilo conceptual donde el sendero

de tus dientes me prohíbe el retraso.

                                                  Avanzo,

como perdiéndome en mareas vírgenes de sueño,

y es aquel sueño el que me cohíbe

en un caer de pupilas sin regreso.