So the Birdostache is almost complete.
I’ve finished the stitching portion, and now I’m going to backstitch the cute phrase underneath.
I also hand-picked the colors for Peach in Coveralls. I had to change most of them. Hues that evoke denim in a colorful video game don’t translate well to textiles – PC Stitch wants to use the electric blue range for Luigi’s outfit, which is definitely not appropriate!
The process was pretty quick, especially since I have about half of my complete set of mainline DMC colors bobbined up. I only transfer skeins to bobbins when I’m actually using a color for a project; otherwise, the skeins stay in ziploc bags in a multi-drawer craft cart, split by number (the 100s and 200s in one bag, 300s – 900s in their own bags, and each hundreds division of 3XXX in its own bag). That means that I can’t easily look to my skein stash when eyeballing colors. But here I use PC Stitch in a backdoor sort of way. I select a color which PC Stitch has chosen for a pattern. Then I use a dropdown menu to organize the floss colors in the program by color range, not by ID number. That way I can see what PC Stitch thinks are similar colors by looking at the adjacent entries on the floss list. I can then pull those from my skein bags and apply my Mark 0 Model 0 Floss Comparison Devices (that is, eyeball the colors).
I want to get more stitching in tonight. Tomorrow is going to be locked up with classes and labs. Hopefully I can complete Birdostache and get started on Peach in Coveralls.
In tabletop news: like the title says, SEASON 5 HAS ENDED.
Season 5 is the final game in our long-running Rasherochernon’s Folly campaign. Its plot wasn’t quite as world-quaking as in previous seasons, but the game focused mostly on the relationships between the nine gods in mortal form, their demonic antagonists-turned-friends, and the world as a whole. It was a deeply personal and intense campaign. I’ve only shared a few humorous anecdotes here; there’s no way to really convey the way it had caught us, so other than an occasional funny story it would mean a lot less to you as a reader than to us as players and GMs.
We’re two INFJs. This campaign started one year after we were married. In a lot of ways, it defines our relationship to each other as well as how we face the world. When you don’t have to set aside large, specific spaces for RPing – when you can hash a scene out in the car, while cooking dinner, whenever you have time, and pause and pick up at the drop of a hat – the game can entwine itself in every space of your life.
As the game evolved, it became clear that this would be our last season (Seasons 6 & 7 took place “in between” segments of Season 5). As important as this campaign has been to us, we also wanted to let it end on its own terms, not try to drag it out. And it has been truly important. With the ending comes a grieving process, like finishing an intense book and wanting to cry, except the book lasted for ten years. But it ended well. Not every campaign can say that. Certainly not grand epics.
Seriously, when the last die-rolling sequence was for a barbarian / paladin / oracle piloting a 15,000-year-old suit of Sylph power armor to deliver the killing blow to a gargantuan red dragon as they dropped from a moon which hovered within the planetary circumference to the ocean beneath, then survive the crash and climb up its belly to break the waterline and fly off its head before the dragon’s body submerged them both and dragged them to the bottom of the Wine-Dark Sea, you can say your campaign had a fitting close. 🙂