Updated the design of an ancient OC. Cyra, a living wellspring of mana.
The old design was pretty weak, and didn't really have anything going for it other than poorly realized rainbow hair. I did some experimentation if I could make rainbow hair work with my vision for the character, but after a lot of deliberation I instead opted to go for a pure white.
There's another version of this pic with a bunch of info, but for some reason Baraag is really struggling with accepting my uploads right now
https://youtu.be/9jK-NcRmVcw?si=5NKYs4iW0lx7h1Rf
If nuclear war happens, so long, and thanks for all the fish
Fantasy/Fiction
I wonder if my stories shifting from first to third without my realizing is a sign of mental illness, or just forgetfulness
Fantasy/Fiction
"I'm dying", when she said that, I could hear it in her voice, her lungs were bad. "I need your help, I want to do something, to make things better before I go." There was a long pause, it lasted almost a minute, then she said simply "I'm going to kill him." She wanted your help, and you can't believe you said yes. You're outside his house now. It's 3:40AM. You have your piece, and she drew a rough blueprint of the interior for you. The window was open just like she said. You go in, and you get to work. You never killed anyone before, but you'd been trained to. You were in a mode you had never felt before, you were scared, very, very scared, but that made you sharp, you didn't give in to the fear, you didn't shake, but you did get tunnel vision, you did feel dizzy, but you breathed, just like the training taught you, breathe, breathe, brea- what was that? A creek in the night, you stayed as still as a statue for a full hour, waiting, once you were sure whatever activity has caused the noise had ceased, you carried on. You went to the bedroom, and when you went in you saw something beyond words, you saw a mess that would give an executioner nightmares. What this man, no -this thing- had done, made you begin to shake, for a moment. But you are trained, you fall back into your mind, and let the training take over, you can deal with what you saw later. You finish your job. And you burn down his house.
Fantasy/Fiction
The bum killed the rich heir, for being a pig. The thing, which is NOT a human, but a blueblood piece of STEALING FILTH, spent it's days torturing animals, and people, physically and psychologically. But before the bum, the sloven insane mad bum killed it, he raped it. And he beat it. And he gouged its eyes out, but not before looking into them and smiling, a wicked, roaring smile with rancid fetid teeth. The bum liked amimals, he had a pet dog, he propped the rich piece of shit overa tire, and let his dog rape it. It ripped the things asshole out with its knot. "Heh heh heh heh heh that's what happens, heheheh that's what happens motherfucka hahhahahahah" cackled the bum. "Yo rich mammy an rich daddy ain't here to save you now sick fuck, they been protectin ya yer whole life eh? Well they're not here now, you're with me, and we have privacy." The thing screamed, a final scream of realization, it knew it was not getting out of here, this was the end.
The Trench