PrismTism 🌈 Heather ✨AuDHD
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prismtism.bsky.social
PrismTism 🌈 Heather ✨AuDHD
@prismtism.bsky.social
380 followers 470 following 6.2K posts
Sapphic AuDHD trans gal, geeking out on rainbows, re-discovering myself & life!
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prismtism.bsky.social
Job interviewer:
“So all we ask is for you to act normal with basic social competence.”

Me, leaning forward towards the camera, fiddling with my purple dragon fidget covered in golden crescent moons, glancing over at my host of books on ADHD and autism, grinning wider and wider.

“Oh, haaard pass.”
Purple dragon fidget covered in golden crescent moons.
November 14, 2025 at 2:21 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Got a notification that led to these Agatha and Rio pictures from Kathryn Hahn Online with the caption “Happy Anniversary, Witches,” and I am completely capable of being totally normal about these.

(I am not.)
Rio and Agatha (Aubrey Plaza and Kathryn Hahn) from Agatha All Along — Kathryn Hahn Online Rio—in her green witch attire—stands behind Agatha—in her blue top coat—with Rio clutching Agatha’s shoulder. Rio and Agatha (Aubrey Plaza and Kathryn Hahn) from Agatha All Along — Kathryn Hahn Online Rio—in her green witch attire—stands in front Agatha—in her blue top coat—with both looking straight ahead, Agatha’s having a finger in Rio’s hair, and Rio holding an orchid. Rio and Agatha (Aubrey Plaza and Kathryn Hahn) from Agatha All Along — Kathryn Hahn Online Rio—in her green witch attire—stands in front Agatha—in her blue top coat—with both looking at each other, Agatha’s having a finger in Rio’s hair, and Rio holding an orchid. Rio and Agatha (Aubrey Plaza and Kathryn Hahn) from Agatha All Along — Kathryn Hahn Online Rio—in her green witch attire—stands in front Agatha—in her blue top coat—with both looking forwards, Agatha’s having a finger on her chin, and Rio holding an orchid.
November 14, 2025 at 12:18 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
I’m pretty familiar with the world of Rogue Trader from when I played the Dark Heresy roleplaying game for a number of years with some friends.

Went and looked to find books I had out of curiosity, swear I had more than these. Possible they are still unpacked in a box somewhere.
Main rulebook for the Dark Heresy roleplaying game. Big letter I with a skull on it on the cover. Book: Dark Heresy, Daemon Hunter: A Guide to the Ordo Malleus. PDF of book: Dark Heresy: Inquisitor’s Handbook. PDF of Dark Heresy: Core Rulebook.
November 13, 2025 at 5:59 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Sometimes I am eating or doing something, and they want to hang out, and I get it! And sometimes I need time. That’s true for everyone.

I’m not going anywhere, cats, I’m right here and I like you very very much.
Heather and her cats Heather giving Rosalyn a smooch Ruffles in cat loaf mode on top of Heather
November 12, 2025 at 5:41 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Gorgeous night for the Northern Lights in the Twin Cities!

This solar maximum might be scrambling my brain, does give lots of good light shows!

If you’ve been in a room and could hear the electronics? When there’s a lot of solar activity, like… my ears are buzzing right now.

Very pretty tho!
Northern Lights a glow of red amidst green. Northern Lights: red blending into green. Northern Lights: this sky looks easily very green. Northern Lights: red and green
November 12, 2025 at 2:18 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Have at it.
Text that says "post this on your profile and let your followers associate you with a fictional character that you remind them of."
November 12, 2025 at 1:56 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
When I studied in Aberdeen, Scotland, Dunottar Castle–a bit south of there—was a fav excursion (3 times?).

Beautiful ruined castle on a peninsula. I also had a chance to visit Tintagel Castle in Cornwall, some similarities.

Fun fact: town of Dunottar is where fried Mars bar was first created!
Dunottar Castle viewed from the whole path. — September 18, 2012, andrewmckie, Creative Commons 2.0 Dunottar Castle, a ruined castle on a peninsula overlooking a very blue North Sea. — May 15, 2010, Eduardo Unda from Aberdeen, UK Creative Commons 2.0 Painting of Dunottar Castle with rainbow — Painting by Waller Hugh Patton, 1867 Creative Commons 2.0 Side note: I really love rainbows! Way back when, I was trying to come up for a domain name for my personal site and social username connected to the things I was doing at the time with web development. This was when I was first coming out, and I wanted a domain that did not involve my name. I tried a number of things and finally came up with RainbowArray. In programming, an array is an ordered set of items, which may or may not be nested, using either a numbered or named index. When searching, it seemed like MAYBE there was a programming concept called a rainbow array, it seemed a bit questionable if that existed or not, so fairly safe to use as a concept. When I initially came out at work, I tried out not using my last name initially, just going by Heather Brooke. I really like my middle name for one, and while I changed my online/work presence all at once from my memory, that was after a long process of coming out to people individually and I was not able to fully come out everywhere until my divorce started. Again I had come out individually to many many people by then… I had limitations to work around. All that is to say, I like rainbows a lot, which is why a lot of my usernames include “rainbow” or “prism”—which creates a rainbow! I have not updated my personal site in ages, I should probably do so at some point. It sort of represents to be the life I am leaving behind. It still does exist at RainbowArray.com. And then still lives on in the main email address I use, heather.brooke@rainbowarray.com. I do have another site I am setting up, RainbowTism.com, and there is an email address with that, Heather@rainbowtism.com. However I had a glitch when setting that up and I am working to restore access to that inbox! That will be my home for tarot, astrology and hopefully coaching as well. Anyhow yay rainbows and yay Dunottar Castle!
November 11, 2025 at 9:58 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Frog witch is what gnomes need for what ails them
Frog witch ready to save the gnomes from what ails them
November 11, 2025 at 9:07 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Model and more lore.
Model of Asdrubael Vect’s Dias and retinue. White Dwarf issue introducing Vect. VANQUISHER OF WORLDS The Supreme Lord of the Kabal of the Black Heart, Asdrubael Vect, has ordered his Dais of Destruction to be made ready. He has vowed to personally renew the Dark Eldar rampage. He is joined by the leader of the Wych Cult of Strife, Lelith Hesperax, who has left the death arenas of Commorragh, bringing the blood-crazed Hellions with her. Pray they don't take you alive...
November 10, 2025 at 4:12 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Some interesting lore on that page.
THE DARK RAISING Introduction by Gav Thorpe Asdrubael Vect has unleashed the entirety of the Kabal of the Black Heart upon an unsuspecting galaxy. All of the many warriors under his command have fallen upon their foes with vicious delight in their efforts to attract the attention of their Lord with their savagery and skill. This army is Vect's own household guard, his personal warriors led by his most loyal servants (well, loyal for Dark Eldarl). When Vect himself is indisposed, command of the army falls to the Lord's subordinates. Of these, Anuris (known to most as the Baneheart) is Archon and commands almost equal respect as Vect himself. No'akei is an accomplished fighter and Vect's personal champion. She is young and ambitious, and Vect occasionally commands her to lead his forces instead of Anuris. This has the double effect or reminding Anuris of hi status as servant and of allowing No'akei to demonstrate and hone her considerable skills of combat and command. In preparation for his grand plans Vect has used all of his power, wealth and influence to attract the best fighters in Commorragh. The entirety of the Wych Cult of Domination has sworn allegiance to the Black Heart (in retur for slaves and power, of course). Vect arranged a great contest in the arena of his palaces and from amongst all of the fighters who attended, he recruited those whose skill impressed him most into his personal army. This has earnt the chosen Wyches, Reavers and Hellions great prestige in the arenas of blood and they will fight with unparalleled ferociousness to prove that they are worthy of his decision. Asdrubael also sent deputations to the leader of the Incubi, promising great reward and the chance of glory for those who will follow his leadership. So enticing is the potential for bloodshed and enrichment that the legendary Drazhar himself has answered the call. DARK ELDAR ASDRUBAEL VECT'S Kabal of the Black Heart THE DARK RAISING The cavernous sleeping chamber was littered with corpscs their bright red blood splashed haphaadly over the silken bedclothes and the grotesque murals updo the walls la tho midst of the carnage stood Adrebael Vest. • gicaming blade in his hand drippiag with the blood of the would be asurpers His saked body was also covered is crimsos, the bood of his assuilants drying dark on his pale skia. He gazed around at the destruction, alocat-mindedly wiping the gore from the sword on the tunic of onc of the slain and then flinging it onto the slashed pilloss of his huge bed. At that moment. two Incub ma is, their helmcted heads sweeping left and right as they took is the scene ol molcaco Where were my brave bodyguards when these assassias tried to kill mc?" Vect demanded with a hiss. latintente and one of you must pay the price." It was Lorok who first realised his Lord's intent, his punisher blade shicing up to behead his comrade in the blinking of an cyc. Vect looked at the Incubis severed head dispassionately. He looked up again when the Hacmoaculus NAkir shambled through the archway. I came as soon as I beard, my Lord Vect." NAkir wheezed, raking deep bow. "This is the third attempt on my life in recent times." Vect mused. picking op the Incubis head and husding it to NAkir as he walked past the Hacmonculus. "Why is everyone suddenly brave caough to face my wrath?" "Your domaios have been. greater, Lord Vest," the twisted Himoscales replied with a shreg *You have more slaves than ever before. Never have you been so powerful." *And never has the prize for lordship of the Black Hcart been so grcs..." Vect voiced his servant's unspoken thought "It is plaia to me that amongst my followers are those who think my power resides solely in their devotion, that it is their efforts alone that keep me upon my throne.
November 10, 2025 at 4:07 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
😳

Oh my.

www.belloflostsouls.net/2025/04/warh...
Asdrubael Vect: ASDRUBAEL VECT Painted by Matt Parkes. Asdrubael Vect and accompanying retinue designed by Chris FitzPatrick: Raider designed by Gary Morley &. Tim Adcock. Painting Marble... A key feature on the Asdrubael Vect miniature is the marble-like texture on the Ravager and the throne. We asked Matt how he did it... The marble texture is painted onto a black undercoat. For the basecoat. mix Dark Angels Green with Chaos Black, about a 30-70 mix, and add a tiny blob of Jade Green. Add more Jade Green to the basecoat mix and then paint lines roughly over the surface. Make sure the lines are basecoat. lighter than the Paint the middle of the lines with Jade Green. It is important at this stage to paint the lines neatly. Mix the Jade Green with water for a smoother application. Add some Skull White to the Jade Green and highlight areas where the lines cross. This produces instant texture and adds depth. The Dais of Destruction skims the jungle canopy. Add more Skull Wnite to the Jade Green mix and highlight again inside the other highlighted areas. This can repeated up to a pure white highlight if you want. DARK ELDAR Dais DARK ELDAR Figures
November 10, 2025 at 4:03 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Put together another rotating bookshelf today! Getting it into place and reorganizing books a bit another step on the journey ahead.
Five-shelf rotating bookshelf, round shelves, in entryway. Another angle on assembled five-level rotating bookshelf in entryway.
November 9, 2025 at 12:22 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Those little details make such a difference!

Framings you’ve shared show how valuable that is in creating the extraordinary.

The commemorative Mamdani items look great. Thrilled to see the results Tuesday, very glad for NYC.

Color scheme reminds me of my hometown, great color combo! ☺️
Blue and gold letter H, with a bearded pirate with an eye patch and yellow bandana above. Logo for the Hastings Raiders.
November 8, 2025 at 2:08 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Between Two Fur ‘n’s
A woman, a cat and her cat loaf in a chair A woman kisses her cat on the head Certified cat loaf on chair
November 7, 2025 at 3:45 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Was having A Moment With Big Feels, when I got this and a message from my mom that she thought of me when she saw it.

I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m probably not writing a poem a week. However in the last year or two, I have written a lot of poems overall, and I suppose that’s something.
CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS #770 Early on I decided if I was going to call myself a songwriter, I'd have to write at least one song a week. Anything less and I would be a dilettante. An amateur. A wannabe. So that's what I did. For the next ten years or so I cranked out songs. Most of them were pretty awful. Embarrassingly bad would not be overstating it. Regardless, I was developing the discipline required to be a writer. Any kind of writer. There was no waiting for inspiration. I'd simply pick up the guitar, every day, and write. One of the unexpected benefits was the development of an inner awareness. A sort of intuitive knowing when I was in the neighborhood of a good melody, riff, or lyric. I could actually feel it. One of my few transcendent moments was "French Kissin' in the USA". Beginning with the verse melody, which ascended in full steps, to the chorus which was simply the major 4 chord to the minor 2 chord, I had an unshakable feeling that I'd stumbled upon something. When I added the vaguely comical title phrase, I knew I had something. I didn't know it would be a minor hit for Debbie Harry, but I knew it was something. The reason I bring this up is because I still rely on that inner sense while writing sitcoms. If the story, or the scene, or the joke does not provoke that feeling, that knowing, I force myself, and my colleagues, to be patient and keep looking. Don't get me wrong. Nothing about this is foolproof. Instinct and intuition, honed by years of experience, can still end in, "Oh my god, what was I thinking?' But I do believe that gentle, guiding voice, that inspiration, flows from another source. Dare I say it, a higher source. One that provokes not only great novels, poetry, theater, music, art, dance, acting, athletic performances, and movies, but also Two and a Half Men.
November 7, 2025 at 2:14 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
How many of your heroes’ works *only* exist because of the work of their wife or partner, and they would rather crush her spirit than to admit they could not do what they do on their own.

Too many in history, and too many still today. Sick of these vampires draining lives for their own immortality.
She was 30 years old. Scott was an alcoholic, drinking to blackout levels daily. Their marriage was toxic-constant fights, infidelity (on both sides), emotional abuse. Zelda threw herself into other creative outlets: painting (she was genuinely talented) and ballet (she trained obsessively, hours per day, despite starting at age 27—far too late for professional ballet). Scott mocked both pursuits. Called her paintings "derivative" and her ballet dreams "delusional." In April 1930, after months of barely eating and dancing 8+ hours a day, Zelda suffered a nervous breakdown. She was hospitalized at a Swiss psychiatric clinic. The diagnosis: schizophrenia. Modern mental health experts now question that diagnosis. Zelda's symptoms-mood swings, creative obsession, periods of mania followed by depression-look much more like bipolar disorder than schizophrenia. But in 1930, "difficult" women were often diagnosed with schizophrenia. It justified institutionalization, sedation, control. Zelda would spend much of the next 18 years in and out of psychiatric hospitals. While Zelda was institutionalized in 1932, she wrote a novel: Save Me the Waltz. It was semi-autobiographical-the story of a young Southern woman who marries a famous artist, watches him take credit for her creativity, and struggles to maintain her identity. It was Zelda's story. Barely disguised. She sent the manuscript to her publisher without showing Scott first. Scott was furious. He wrote to her doctor: "She has no right to publish our private life without my permission." He demanded she revise the manuscript-remove sections that made him look bad, change details, tone down her voice. Under pressure from Scott and her doctors (who controlled her access to the outside world), Zelda agreed to extensive edits. Save Me the Waltz was published in 1932. It sold poorly-Scott's publisher gave it almost no marketing support. Reviews were mixed. But it existed. Despite everything, Zelda had published her own novel under her own name. Scott published Tender Is the Night two years later. The novel featured a brilliant, troubled woman named Nicole Diver who suffers mental illness while married to a psychiatrist. It drew heavily on Zelda's psychiatric records, her experiences in hospitals, her creative frustrations. Once again, Scott had mined Zelda's life-this time her pain and vulnerability-for his art. Once again, he got the credit and the literary acclaim. Zelda spent the late 1930s and 1940s cycling between hospitals and brief periods at home. She endured insulin shock therapy, electroshock therapy, and other brutal psychiatric treatments that were standard at the time. Scott visited occasionally, but he was living in Hollywood, drinking himself to death, having affairs. He died of a heart attack in December 1940 at age 44. Zelda was in Highland Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina when she heard. She was granted a brief leave to attend his funeral. Then she was sent back to the hospital. March 10, 1948. Highland Hospital, Asheville. A fire broke out in the main building late at night. The building was old, made of wood, went up fast. Zelda was on a locked ward on an upper floor. The doors were secured-hospital policy to prevent patients from wandering. As the fire spread, staff tried to evacuate. But the locked doors slowed everything down. Smoke filled the hallways. Nine women died in that fire. Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald was one of them. She was 47 years old. Trapped in a locked room. Burned alive. They identified her body by a charred slipper. The woman who had been "the most sought-after girl in Alabama." Who had lived with more freedom than almost any woman of her generation. Who had fought to be recognized as an artist in her own right. Died locked in a psychiatric hospital, forgotten by most of the world. Today, most people know F. Scott Fitzgerald as one of the greatest American writers. They've read The Great Gatsby. Maybe Tender Is the Night. Ask about Zelda, and they might say: "Oh, wasn't she the crazy wife?" But here's what they don't teach you: Those "authentic female voices" in Scott's novels? Many were Zelda's actual words, stolen from her diaries. Those brilliant, troubled female characters? Those were Zelda, mined for material without consent or compensation. That tortured artist storyline in Tender Is the Night? That was Zelda's life, repackaged as fiction and published under his name. Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald was a writer. She published short stories, articles, a novel, and a play. She was a painter. Her work has been exhibited posthumously and is held in collections. She was a dancer. She trained with passion even though she started "too late." She was a woman who refused to be contained—by Southern propriety, by marriage expectations, by her husband's jealousy, by psychiatric institutions. And history remembers her as "F. Scott Fitzgerald's crazy wife." That's not an accident. That's erasure. When a woman threatens a man's ego, she becomes "difficult." When she insists on her own creative voice, she's "competing." When she has a mental health crisis, she's "crazy." When she dies, she becomes a footnote. Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald: Born July 24, 1900. Died March 10, 1948. The writer whose words were stolen and published under her husband's name. The artist whose creativity was dismissed as "madness." The woman who fought for her own voice and was institutionalized for it. Who wrote her own novel despite being told she had no right to their story. Who died locked in a burning hospital while the world remembered her only as "Scott Fitzgerald's wife." Her book, Save Me the Waltz, is still in print. Her paintings are in museums. Her letters reveal a brilliant, witty, deeply thoughtful mind. But you have to look for them. Because the world wanted her as a muse, not as an artist. As an inspiration, not as a creator. As a beautiful, tragic figure in someone else's story-not as the author of her own. So here's what we do: We say her name. Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. We read her book. We look at her paintings. We remember that she didn't "inspire" great literature-she WROTE great literature, and it was stolen. We remember that when history calls a woman "crazy," we should ask: who benefits from that diagnosis? We remember that she died locked in a room, and we make sure other women's voices are never trapped again. Write. Paint. Create. Claim your own story. Don't let anyone steal your words. Don't let anyone call you crazy for demanding recognition. Don't let anyone reduce you to a footnote in someone else's biography. Zelda fought for that. She died for that. The least we can do is remember. F. Scott Fitzgerald stole his wife's diary, published her words as his own, then blocked her book. She died locked in a burning hospital.
November 6, 2025 at 8:16 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
This is now the only Legend of Zelda I will hold in my heart, along with any other amazing woman brought low by a man profiting off her brilliance without giving her credit, truly a tale as old as time.
F. Scott Fitzgerald stole his wife's diary, published her words as his own, then blocked her book. She died locked in a burning hospital. The Inspireist F. Scott Fitzgerald stole his wife's diary, published her words as his own, then blocked her book. She died locked in a burning hospital. Her name was Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. And history remembers her as "Scott Fitzgerald's crazy wife." Montgomery, Alabama, 1918. Zelda Sayre was 18 years old and the most desired woman in the South. She was wild. Scandalous. She smoked in public, wore flesh-colored swimsuits that made her look naked from a distance, drank gin, drove cars fast, and kissed boys without apology. "The most sought-after girl in Alabama," newspapers called her. The belle of Montgomery society who broke every rule and didn't care. Then Lieutenant F. Scott Fitzgerald, stationed at a nearby army base, saw her at a country club dance. He fell instantly, desperately in love. He was 22, unpublished, broke, unknown. She was a Southern beauty who could have any man she wanted. Scott proposed. Zelda said no. Not because she didn't love him-but because she refused to marry a man with no prospects. "I can't marry you unless you can support me," she told him. In 1918, that wasn't shallow. That was survival. So Scott Fitzgerald made a choice: he would become successful enough to deserve her. He moved to New York, worked in advertising (which he hated), and spent every night writing a novel. When This Side of Paradise sold in 1919, he immediately telegraphed Zelda: "BOOK SOLD. MARRY ME NOW." She did. They married in 1920. She was 19. He was 23. And for a few years, they were the golden couple of the Jazz Age. Scott's novels made them rich and famous. They lived in New York, partied with celebrities, spent money recklessly. They jumped into fountains, rode on the tops of taxis, drank champagne for breakfast. Zelda was electric. Glamorous. Fearless. She cut her hair into a bob-shocking in 1920. She wore short skirts. She said outrageous things at parties. The press loved her. She gave the best quotes: "I don't want to live— want to love first, and live incidentally.” Scott loved her too. Obsessively. She was his muse, he said. The inspiration for all his great female characters-Daisy Buchanan, Nicole Diver, Gloria Gilbert. But there was a darker truth: he wasn't just inspired by Zelda. He was stealing from her. Zelda kept personal diaries-intimate, beautifully written accounts of her thoughts, feelings, experiences. Scott would read them, then copy passages directly into his novels. Without her permission. Without credit. In This Side of Paradise, he lifted entire sections from Zelda's letters and diaries. When reviewers praised the "authentic female voice" in his work, Scott accepted the compliments. When Zelda protested, he dismissed her: "I'm the professional writer. You're just my wife." In 1922, Zelda became pregnant with their daughter, Scottie. While she was pregnant and exhausted, Scott published The Beautiful and Damned-a novel featuring a character, Gloria, who was obviously based on Zelda. Worse: he had taken large sections directly from Zelda's personal diary and put them in Gloria's mouth. Her private thoughts, published under his name, for his profit and fame. When a reviewer praised one passage as "brilliant," Zelda's friend told her: "You know you wrote that, right? That's from your diary." Zelda confronted Scott. He shrugged: "Nobody would read it if you wrote it." Zelda decided to become a writer anyway. Through the 1920s, she published articles and short stories in magazines-Harper's Bazaar, College Humor, The Saturday Evening Post. Her pieces were funny, sharp, insightful. But editors insisted they be published under "F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald"-even when Scott hadn't written a word. His name sold magazines. Hers didn't. The money went to "their" joint account, which Scott controlled. She was writing. Getting published. And still being erased. By 1930, Zelda's frustration had reached a breaking point.
November 6, 2025 at 8:16 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Kiddo showed me new stuffies this weekend, has apparently moved from squishmallows to squishables.

Showed me one they introduced as a Plague Doctor Mimic, and sure enough that’s EXACTLY what it was.

LOVED that kiddo already seemed to know what a mimic was and wanted one!

Found product photos!
Woman from product page’holding plague doctor mimic, my what sharp teeth! Plague doctor mimic from the side, with jaunty hat and tail. A plague doctor… or a lovable MIMIC of a plague doctor??
November 6, 2025 at 5:26 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
The Red Kraken and her background, skills and abilities are now at the ready as Captain Kendra Krym-Zym sails to new horizons.

For the Emperor!

And perhaps a few other things along the way.

Ahem. Yes, the Emperor!
Kendra’s ship, the Red Kraken, ready to take on all foes. A look at Kendra’s background. A review of Kendra’s skills and abilities.
November 5, 2025 at 7:46 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Kendra’s life has been well-lived, with injuries leading to augmentation and her values honored with tattoos.
Augments and tattoos on Kendra’s face due to a life at sea. A navigation wheel tattoo on her right arm. The chains of an anchor tattooed on her left arm, for she will always find her own berth and live free.
November 5, 2025 at 7:46 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Kendra Krym-Zyn, former naval officer, with a slight matter of piracy on her record, is now ready to take the helm of the Red Kraken with her Warrant of Trade, as a Rogue Trader.
A fearsome pirate of the warp, ready to set sail as a Rogue Trader. A side view of the auburn-haired rapscallion rogue. Details of Kendra Krym-Zym, pirate and Rogue Trader.
November 5, 2025 at 7:46 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
A bronze frog witch came to mind.

Curios like this help me bring back memories of their origin, a chance to relive that time even for a moment.

What stories might you want a reminder of from this year?

Thoughtful of you to carry on these traditions, as well as finding ways to make them your own.
A bronze frog witch stands at the ready to guard her community as destruction appears imminent from a lizard rampaging through puzzles and gnomes. The crows witness. The bold bronze frog witch turns to to the scene before her. She knows what she must do. A wider look at the troubling chaos caused by the confused lizard thundering through a murder puzzle. The crows are in awe at the gnomes efforts to stop this at any cost. The frog witch, upon her toadstool, thanks her murder, Wren and Tin-Tin, as she focuses her will with the corvid skull. The lizard can be calmed. She knows this now.
November 5, 2025 at 1:59 AM
prismtism.bsky.social
Voted!
A woman smiles with an I bites sticker on her sweater
November 4, 2025 at 11:48 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Sometimes I feel like the universe drops hints here and there, however they are so hard to decipher and inscrutable, one can never TRULY know what they mean, or if they are relevant for our lives, right?

There’s just so much SUBTLETY involved, which helps make life magical.

Ahhh…. Who can say?
A liliac flower on a purple background, with a notification that says “I think we’re alone now: JUST WRITE SOMETHING.”
November 4, 2025 at 6:29 PM
prismtism.bsky.social
Nikolai’s glower might glow a moment at the sight of such numerological signifance.
A profile of Heather, PrismTism, showing 369 followers, a number Nikolai Tesla found fascinating.
November 3, 2025 at 1:04 PM