HOLD UP THIS IS SO REAL
Ok, but I can't be the only one, right..?
me: ignores all my other wips in favor of whatever this is
youtube version here
Emmet using a laser pointer to command an alarmingly large quantity of joltiks to swarm someone littering in the subway
There is nowhere to run
Edit: the last panel got a rework xD (link)
I was looking at your vids and saw that one with Skyfire in- Is there a full ref for that design that you’ve drawn? It’s very good!
!!! A i dont have a full ref but i do have another doodle!
thank you so much !!
felt like redrawing this panel bc these two live rent-free in my mind oughhhh
Sometimes I like to think biology and taxonomy as a field is, if anything, even more complicated in the pokemon universe than it is in ours? Like it’d be really funny if the seemingly straightforward, reliable, and intuitive systems that are explained to us in the game is just the simple version given to young people who tend to be just starting out in their relationships with pokemon while across the country you have like. Professor Sycamore giving speeches about how much oversight was required to formally accept Fairy as a valid typing and getting derailed by a pundit talking about the Flying type and he’s like “Don’t talk to me about the flying type if you so much as look at the Flying type you’ll get into about eight taxonomical arguments that have been going on longer than you’ve been alive”
next door you have people arguing for the billionth time whether or not Cleffa should be recognized as a True pre-evolution of Clefairy or if the differences in its anatomy aren’t significant enough to classify and there’s at least one school of thought that Evolution doesn’t exist and the only real pokemon are final evolutions, so neither pikachu nor pichu are their own creatures they’re just immature and/or neotenous raichu.
Somewhere else in the world you have a paleontology conference discussing the latest fossils found of the ancient pokemon basculegion and reconstruction implications only for a time traveler to slam the rear doors open like “I SAW GOD, WAS THROWN BACK IN TIME, AND BASCULEGION DID NOT LOOK LIKE THAT,”
The art before Emmet is impressive. Painted on clay slabs that stretch from the museum’s floor to ceiling. The colors have faded with age, but are still brilliant - electric blue highlights running across figures in white and black. Twins, he supposed, like the legendary dragons that curled fiercely around them.
If he were not Emmet, he is sure he would stop and stare a while. It was very striking, he had to admit. But he is Emmet, so instead he does not bother to read the museum label and wanders away.
He is verrrry bored. But Ingo is not, and the air conditioning feels wonderful, so he will not complain.
A broken charm sits behind glass, shining with purple gemstones. Emmet doesn’t know what it is supposed to resemble. Maybe it wasn’t meant to resemble anything. Maybe this kingdom had lots of silly ideas, beginning with building their capital in the heart of a desert. That should have been thought through.
This was their first day off in years and they wasted most of it trekking through dunes! In the heat! It was very very hot! Of all the places Ingo could have wanted to go, of course he chose the hardest station to arrive at. It had given Archeops the extra taste of battle he had been wanting though, and Emmet too.
No, he supposed it wasn’t all bad after all. He got to enjoy the journey, now it was time for the destination.
“EMMET!”
Immediately, said subway boss perks up and turns towards his brother’s booming voice. He enjoys the way his walk parts the crowd as he arrives at Ingo’s station. Emmet leans just far enough into his personal space to be noticeable. Ingo only glares. With such a subtle reaction, he must be distracted.
There is a portrait in front of them. There is a sizable group of people in blacks and whites. A few are speckled with red. Those details quickly fade into the background as his eyes catch on one in particular.
This one’s pale skin is sunburnt. His smile is half hidden by the collar of his coat. Even then, Emmet can see that it’s strained. His coat is striped, red and white. His sideburns are just like theirs. His everything is very much like them. Very, very, very much like them.
They observe in silence as the minutes pass. “Well,” Ingo eventually starts, “I suppose Elesa is right to call our coats old-fashioned.”
A chuckle escapes Emmet before he can stop it. Ingo’s eyes crinkle in that smiling way of his and whatever moment stretched on between them and the painting is broken.
“Nonsense, now we can say they’re traditional! She can’t argue against a track that stands the test of time!” Ingo gives him a look. “Alright, maybe she can.”
They chuckle, chatter on, and continue to their next station. Before they depart, Emmet pauses. He steals a glance at the portrait’s label.
Relic Castle, year unknown. Several religious acolytes are pictured alongside regents Rigus and Laurel during preparations for annual Volcarona-honoring festivities. The reason for a notoriously closed society to allow an apparent outsider to participate in religious preparations remains unknown.
By the time the subway masters leave the museum, the portrait is long forgotten.
pov you are volo
Just obsessing and trying to not to panic at posting any of my work. New all-consuming fandom interests featured every month or two probably. Thanks for stopping by! CURRENT OBSESSION: Transformers
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