from big island

6

Here’s my prediction for the order of the islands and trial captains.

We know from the charm that the player will start on the yellow island, then go to the red, the pink, and finish at the purple.

Using this information we can predict the island captains.

For melemele it has to be Lana, as she doesn’t seem to fit with any other island.

Sophocles has to be next because the location he is seen in in the trailer appears to be the observatory from the big Island, which is the second in the sequence.

Mallow is next because it is confirmed that she is on Akala island, the pink island, real life Maui (to the right of melemele), which is third in the series.

And that leaves Kiawe on the last island, poni, the purple island (the left most island,based on kauai). This also fits because Kiawe is interested in dances and this is the most secluded island, most in touch with the tribal peoples who first inhabited the islands.

4

“Tiki” character work in progress. Model and sketches.

A character from my project “Big Islands”. Tiki is a mershark that was found by “The Tikis” after he washed ashore their island with life threatening injuries. Makotiki and Pakotiki, two wooden golem siblings, raised the mershark who now protects the Island as their guardian. 

Like most merfolk in this world, Tiki has a land form and a merform.

The Tiki’s speak their own language but it comes out sounding just like (Tiki, TIki!). Tiki’s name probably translates to Big shark man.

[Edit] put some head sketches in there too

So feather-set gave me a fantastic idea! My bottle be a bit smaller, but I wear it as a necklace everyday :) Contains: Sea salt (protection), lavender (calmness, peace), small May flower (MAY!!), sea glass (spell for self confidence), piece of volcanic rock from Big Island Hawaii (to repel negativity), dash of red pepper (to help with love), and finally a small shell that I performed a self beauty spell on to help with self confidence and liking myself the way I am.

The Copper and the Brat: A Love Story || Danny Williams

He sped through the mountains, wind whipping through his hair, the motorcycle’s tires only just catching on the dirt road, barely making turns, dust flying everywhere, not obscuring the driver’s view by chance, the light, salty ocean breeze filling his lungs while managing not to sting his eyes. The whole thing was highly improbable, and seemed to run almost as if by magic.

Draco snorted. Almost indeed.

It had been almost two weeks now since Mother had removed him from the Big Island–though the name had been a joke, there was nothing big about the island of Hawaii at all–and sentenced him to Merlin knows how long on O‘ahu. He was forbidden to call it a sentence, seeing as the reason he and Mother were here in quasi hiding was to avoid the trials, which Father still had to stand, but good god it felt like one. Yes, the scenery wasn’t awful and yes, he could certainly do with a break from the post-war atmosphere of Wizarding London, but would it really kill them to spend time in society somewhere? At least there were wizards on the Big Island; O‘ahu was utterly devoid.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by his motorcycle suddenly jerking to one side and then the other, sputtering angrily, and grinding to a halt.

“No!” Draco yelled, tightening his grip on the handlebars and pushing forward. “Come on, you bastard! Go!”

This was, of course, useless, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what was wrong. The motorcycle had been a compromise: somewhere to get him to where he could fly his broom, safely stowed in his backpack thanks to a handy miniaturizing spell he’d learned during the raids, without Apparating.

No magic! Mother had said very loudly and in a very high register, immediately following the incident that had gotten him exiled to O‘ahu. It was not the first time she’d told him so.

The motorcycle didn’t budge. Draco threw himself off the wretched thing and kicked it. He watched with some satisfaction as it fell over with a loud clang!

…the only problem was now what. He had no idea where he was, his owl was at home, not that he had anyone to send it to, he’d refused a “selling tone”, whatever that was, and even if he took out his wand and used Point Me, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. He could vaguely see a village far down the mountain, which meant flying was out.

“Merlin’s fucking beard,” he muttered and, with a silent, wandless spell to clear off any dust or debris, sat on the side of his motorcycle, chin in his hands, and waited for a miracle.