I'm taking art requests at the moment! I will do them for free.
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This is N. N has no gender, since they're a demon. N likes to terrorize mortals and force them to make sticky rice (their favourite dish of all time!). Their mortal enemy which has rivalled them for decades is cinnamon. N despises cinnamon, and ensures to destroy all traces of cinnamon everywhere. N also likes to release fire balls in villages, because they think it's funny to see townspeople scream and run from it. N has given them-self the nickname "The Bringer of Badassery".
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I've made too many threads and I've lost track of most of them, so I'm going to try to keep everything HERE.
I'm also taking requests at the moment since I'm a little bored.
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Latest piece of work:
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Neat. Straight. Organized.
STRAIGHT straight NEAT neat
Follow the lines!
Stay in the boxes!
Files. Files. Files.
What are you filed under?
What are you categorized as?
Move like the crowd.
Think like the crowd.
Be like the crowd.
STRAIGHT straight NEAT neat
Follow the lines!
Stay in the boxes!
Files. Files. Files.
What are you filed under?
What are you categorized as?
Move like the crowd.
Think like the crowd.
Be like the crowd.
Breaking through layers of consciousness, I find myself somewhere foreign. Even though I'd never seen this place before, it was strangely homely - it reminded me of my home town.
"What is this place?"
This place looks nothing like my hometown; I must be so far from home. I think this is a dream, but I can't be too sure. Everything feels too real: the rain pounding on my face, the chilled surface of cobblestone on my toes, the intense slashes of lightning...
I slowly begin to walk. While I'm here, I might as well explore.
Eventually, I end up at a blindingly bright field of flowers: roses, pansies, and more. The smell, painfully strong, makes me cringe and wrinkle my nose. "Urgh..."
I decide to turn away from the foliage, and reach a small home. "Wonder if anybody's here...?" I mumble, before pushing open the door.
A tiny girl sits on a white sofa, a broad cup firmly within her palms. Her skin face is painted with tan freckles, her wide eyes are a deep brown. A mass of bronze curls sits on her shoulders.
"Oh, hello," She smiles. "if you'd like, I'll whip you up a warm drink, since you must be freezing."
"Oh, um..."
Isn't it a little rude of me to take drinks from strangers? On the other hand, would that even matter in a dream? I'm not sure what to say to her.
"I'll get you a nice steaming cup of hot cocoa."
She grins, shuffles to the door behind her and pushes it open with her foot. People in this dream are friendly, that's for sure. I lean against a wall, clicking my tongue rhythmically in boredom.
"How many sugars?" She calls. "How about four?"
"Sure, that sounds good." I reply.
She returns, and hands me a huge cup. A mountain of whipped cream supports miniature marshmallows, and it almost grazes my nose as I take the cup from her.
"Wow, thanks...!"
"Take a sip."
I do as she says, and my vision begins to fail me. Everything becomes swirls and shapes, spinning faster, and faster...
I'm somewhere different, now. My face is buried in something... oh! My pillow! I'm back home? Sigh. Just when I was getting to the best part of my dream...
"What is this place?"
This place looks nothing like my hometown; I must be so far from home. I think this is a dream, but I can't be too sure. Everything feels too real: the rain pounding on my face, the chilled surface of cobblestone on my toes, the intense slashes of lightning...
I slowly begin to walk. While I'm here, I might as well explore.
Eventually, I end up at a blindingly bright field of flowers: roses, pansies, and more. The smell, painfully strong, makes me cringe and wrinkle my nose. "Urgh..."
I decide to turn away from the foliage, and reach a small home. "Wonder if anybody's here...?" I mumble, before pushing open the door.
A tiny girl sits on a white sofa, a broad cup firmly within her palms. Her skin face is painted with tan freckles, her wide eyes are a deep brown. A mass of bronze curls sits on her shoulders.
"Oh, hello," She smiles. "if you'd like, I'll whip you up a warm drink, since you must be freezing."
"Oh, um..."
Isn't it a little rude of me to take drinks from strangers? On the other hand, would that even matter in a dream? I'm not sure what to say to her.
"I'll get you a nice steaming cup of hot cocoa."
She grins, shuffles to the door behind her and pushes it open with her foot. People in this dream are friendly, that's for sure. I lean against a wall, clicking my tongue rhythmically in boredom.
"How many sugars?" She calls. "How about four?"
"Sure, that sounds good." I reply.
She returns, and hands me a huge cup. A mountain of whipped cream supports miniature marshmallows, and it almost grazes my nose as I take the cup from her.
"Wow, thanks...!"
"Take a sip."
I do as she says, and my vision begins to fail me. Everything becomes swirls and shapes, spinning faster, and faster...
I'm somewhere different, now. My face is buried in something... oh! My pillow! I'm back home? Sigh. Just when I was getting to the best part of my dream...
5 a.m. Don't cry. Please don't cry.
I peer into the mirror anxiously. Why won't these lips shrink?!
I clench my fists and inhale deeply.
Maybe if I try a new shirt? Maybe then Mayor will like me...?
I fling open the dresser, revealing my vapid collection of shirts. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Just like me.
11 a.m. Be strong; you can do this.
I see her stride towards me and fear grips me. "Oh, h-h-hi, Mayor!" I croak. Her net remains tightly secured in her fist. Oh no. Don't hit me. Please don't hit me.
The pain penetrates my body and with every strike, my legs quake. "Mayor, please...!"
12 p.m. The holes. Oh god, the holes.
Four holes surround me; my barriers, my cage. She does this everyday. I squeeze my eyes shut to trap the tears. Mayor, why won't you like me?
In the distance, I can see her chatting to the other neighbours. Why not me?
7 p.m.
1,000 bells, 3,000 bells, 5,000...
Dammit. Not enough for the train fare out of here. How am I ever going to leave this hell?
My attempts to sell my furniture to her failed. She cackled in my face and continued to hit me; again and again.
__
25 May 2014
Dear Diary,
It's me again.
I don't think I can take this anymore. The beatings leave physical and mental scars, causing a hole in my heart that cannot be mended.
Save me. Send help. Take me away from this place.
-- Jambette
Jambette+
"Had her in city folk, never want her again!"
"I would... kick her out again 'coz I never wanted her in the first place"
"Cut off those horrifying lips."
"make her move"
"get her out as fast as possible"
I peer into the mirror anxiously. Why won't these lips shrink?!
I clench my fists and inhale deeply.
Maybe if I try a new shirt? Maybe then Mayor will like me...?
I fling open the dresser, revealing my vapid collection of shirts. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Just like me.
11 a.m. Be strong; you can do this.
I see her stride towards me and fear grips me. "Oh, h-h-hi, Mayor!" I croak. Her net remains tightly secured in her fist. Oh no. Don't hit me. Please don't hit me.
The pain penetrates my body and with every strike, my legs quake. "Mayor, please...!"
12 p.m. The holes. Oh god, the holes.
Four holes surround me; my barriers, my cage. She does this everyday. I squeeze my eyes shut to trap the tears. Mayor, why won't you like me?
In the distance, I can see her chatting to the other neighbours. Why not me?
7 p.m.
1,000 bells, 3,000 bells, 5,000...
Dammit. Not enough for the train fare out of here. How am I ever going to leave this hell?
My attempts to sell my furniture to her failed. She cackled in my face and continued to hit me; again and again.
__
25 May 2014
Dear Diary,
It's me again.
I don't think I can take this anymore. The beatings leave physical and mental scars, causing a hole in my heart that cannot be mended.
Save me. Send help. Take me away from this place.
-- Jambette
Jambette+
"Had her in city folk, never want her again!"
"I would... kick her out again 'coz I never wanted her in the first place"
"Cut off those horrifying lips."
"make her move"
"get her out as fast as possible"
This is N. N has no gender, since they're a demon. N likes to terrorize mortals and force them to make sticky rice (their favourite dish of all time!). Their mortal enemy which has rivalled them for decades is cinnamon. N despises cinnamon, and ensures to destroy all traces of cinnamon everywhere. N also likes to release fire balls in villages, because they think it's funny to see townspeople scream and run from it. N has given them-self the nickname "The Bringer of Badassery".
Latest one:
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I've made too many threads and I've lost track of most of them, so I'm going to try to keep everything HERE.
I'm also taking requests at the moment since I'm a little bored.
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