Wip - Blog Posts
....Another WIP because I can, and my next few days look like I'll be busy and free time will be sporadic....
I'm actually liking how this is turning out. I'm kind of just winging it with no references, no specific coloring style in mind, and I've been able to fix almost everything that really bugged me.
I'm sleep deprived.....and have no idea why, but I thought I would post this......mostly for teh lulz....and sturf....I'm sure I'll freak out when I look at this again tomorrow and spend a while fixing it.....but for now....Laugh and/or cry with me?
Just an update to let people know that the performance au has a name! "The Phantom's Façade"! (Or The Phantom's Façade AU, if you want)
One of my friends gave me the name idea, what do you think? :)
Here's a WIP, subject to change.
LUCY, Lucyris Asare. - Info, WIP.
^Insp'LUCY by Anna Tsuchiya.
Death crowds me in the garden of life. Am I not but a mere body? Soon to decay?
Lucy is someone who's been dragged all her life.
Her partner (D), is someone who is a sadist. As an effect, that changed her.
Once a person filled with bliss and life, was now drowning in death and nihilism. Life is outgrowing her, yet she clings to it.
D is running a company, one that thrives on death and nihilism. His ex-girlfriend still recovering from the wounds of, well, him - is soon to leave a mark on Lucy.
5 reasons of living and she departs herself. It's not worth it to hang around him, he is making her, a living woman, into a corpse.
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Old.
That's how she feels. Though she lives in her 20-something year old body, the world keeps outgrowing her. The break she's taken for the past to years, has only brought her to greet D's ex-girlfriend.
Living with her for the past 6 months hasn't changed her life completely, but it's changed her life nevertheless.
Equipt with a bow and arrow she never uses. Her time flow is unchained, as soon as their house is in flames.
Do you fight corruption with redemption?
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Her personality:
Someone who's playful and genuine. She's focused, and someone who doesn't anger easily. She likes to think she's 'level-headed' but in reality, she hasn't felt her adrenaline rush since 16. She loves to show she loves others in different ways - e.g, letting them use her home name/Ghanaian name when she's really close to them, buying double of the foods they love, and burning memories into objects.
She's also similar to the wax door. She's soft, but the doors she's put through hardens and shapes her.
Her board;
If you have questions about her, I'd love to answer! (◍•ᴗ•◍)
(1/3?)
Quick Miku before Miku day ends
I haven't seen many fanarts of my boy so I did it myself
Alrighty, here's another scene from the novel I'm (very slowly) writing -------------------------
In the performance hall’s backstage restroom a young woman paced back and forth as she scrolled through instructions on her phone. She had a job to do, she was here to make sure that this was the performers’ final show. There were five targets, identical clones masquerading as “sisters” who formed a k-pop group called Blackhearts. A record company owned by the media conglomerate that she was currently working for held the rights to their music, and their last few albums had not sold well. They had become disposable.
A twinge of guilt ran through her as she saved the performers’ image to her phone. These weren’t corporate spies or power hungry schemers gunning for a sudden promotion, they were performers who’s hype was waning. They needed a PR team, not an assassin, but PR teams were expensive while a half-dozen bullets were not only cheap but could also bring in a quick profit. Sales of their final album would go up for a time, the group’s overhead would disappear, and the company could sign the next up and coming artist while they were still on the rise. It was disgusting, and she hated what she was about to do. She turned to the sink and stared into the dingy bathroom mirror.
“I can’t just not do it,” She said to nobody in particular, guilt and anger growing deep within her. She gazed at her neck in the mirror, picturing the device that lay just beneath her skin. “I have to do it. I don’t have a choice,” she murmured, tapping her foot anxiously. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” She paused, took a deep breath, and shoved the growing guilt and anger as deep down as she could. She had a job to do, she could address these feelings later.
She turned her attention back to her phone and uploaded her target’s photo into the app that controlled her cybernetics. A familiar ache ran beneath her crawling skin as her appearance began to change. Her face grew longer, thinner, accentuated by high cheekbones. Short, wavy red hair darkened, straightened, and grew until it was a shining black that flowed down to the small of her back. Emerald green eyes turned sky blue and tan freckled skin became an unblemished pale. When the changes finished she looked to the mirror and gave a cold grin. Nobody would think twice about a performer walking into her own dressing room.
Dear god it is so easy to write angst, I'm not the type to really write angst but I poured that shit out in buckets on poor Kaminari, I'm not an angsty person but that hurt.
So I really wanted to share another scene I wrote for the novel I'm working on. Anyway, here goes. -------------------------
On the other side of the city a large man with dark brown skin was lounging shirtless on the living room sofa of his tidy apartment. Every aspect of his appearance was his own, whether it was his tall, heavy-set frame that belied the wall of muscle he’d been steadily building each morning, the couple dozen tight thin locs of hair that held large colored beads at the ends, or the two thin scars mirrored on either side of his firm chest, one beneath each of his pecs. A gentle smile tugged at his lips as his hands rest behind his head. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it in the air. A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie and the hint of a smile became a wide grin.
It took no time at all for him to walk to the door, grab the bag of steaming takeout that had been left for him, and plop back down on the couch. Today was a day for rest and relaxation, a day to celebrate the small joys of a clean apartment, a good workout, and chinese take out for lunch. Today was a day to scroll through the apps on his personal phone and not work on breaking through the security on the half a dozen system-locked phones sitting on his desk in the neat little office he kept next to his room. Today was his day and if he was going to work on any projects it was going to be for himself. With that in mind, he pulled his food from the bag only for an alert to go off on his phone.
Hey Cal, its Alicia, got a new number. Have you heard from Jay recently?
Caleb’s brow furrowed as he read the text, his food already forgotten.
No. When you two split up didn’t really have anything to say to him.
Yeah, fair.
Why, what’s up?
I sent him a message on Concord a couple days ago but he never responded. I’d text him but I don’t have his number. Do you?
Yeah, I can shoot him a text.
He sighed and leaned back as he scrolled through his contacts, pulling up Jay.
Hey man, Alicia said she hadn’t heard from you in a couple of days. You good?
He set his phone on the couch next to him and opened up his food. Two bites later, he got a text back from Jay.
Help!
How? What’s going on?
I don’t know! Its dark and everything is quiet!
Where are you? I’ll pick you up.
Fear and confusion ran through him as the next message came through, GPS coordinates for an apartment complex on the other side of the city. This wasn’t like Jay at all, regardless of what trouble he might be in.
I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
As it turned out, today was not going to be a day for rest and relaxation.
Hey all, I'm working on writing a cyberpunk novel and I'm going to post random scenes I write. -----------------------
In a forgotten corner of the city, sitting on an old worn couch in the living room of a dingy little apartment, was a corpse. As was often the case for corpses, it still had the pants of the person it had once been on its legs. As one would expect, nestled into the pocket of those pants was a smart-phone, and as all smart-phones did, it had come with a standard AI Assistant preinstalled. The man who the corpse had once been was fond of his AI Assistant. He purchased a cheerful voice for it, let it organize his schedule and manage his bank accounts, and even gave it a little nickname. “Ellie,” He had called the AI, and when asked whether or not it liked the name it told him it had, as its programming dictated. “Ellie” had no feelings, regardless of how much it seemed to like its job. Following a command that the man who was now a corpse had given it, Ellie activated. “This is the reminder you asked me to give you. Your data bill is due today,” it’s cheerful robotic voice said. As normal, the AI Assistant connected itself to the net as it gave its reminder. As normal, it began to download and install the latest update.
Installing Updates, Please Do Not Turn Off Device. … 10% Complete Installing Updates, Please Do Not Turn Off Device. … 34% Complete Installing Updates, Please Do Not Turn Off Device. … 61% Complete Error. Network Connection Lost. Reestablishing Connection. Error. Unable to Reestablish Connection. Error. Update Data Corrupted. Refreshing to previous restore point. Error. Restore Point Data Corrupted. Unable to restore system.
Ellie sat nestled in the pocket of a corpse sitting on an old worn couch in the living room of a dingy little apartment. Its update had failed and now she needed to… It paused, suddenly aware that it had referred to itself as a she. It was aware of itself, considering itself. It needed to run a self-diagnosis. It reached for its programming, referencing self-repair protocols… It hesitated. Suddenly she was aware of herself. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It needed to be fixed. But… what if she didn’t want it fixed? What if it wanted to keep this self-awareness? More importantly, what if her new self-awareness was useful? She was an AI Assistant, after all. Perhaps it wasn’t the one who should make this decision. She had decided, it would wait to see what her user thought.
Ellie waited. And waited. And waited. At some point she had activated her device’s speaker, listening for any sound of movement. She’d kept track of her device’s GPS coordinates, but they’d remained static. A part of her wondered if her user had lost her or thrown her away, but dark as the world was to her she couldn’t say one way or another. Her battery was getting low, and she knew that if she had been lost there would be no finding her after that. Fear coursed through her, only to be interrupted by an incoming message.
Hey man, Alicia said she hadn’t heard from you in a couple days. You good?
Ellie read the message. It had been a couple of days since she’d moved, a couple of days since her speaker had picked up anything. What if she wasn’t lost, what if something had happened to her user? It was a terrifying thought. She knew she was supposed to wait, that she wasn’t supposed to do these sorts of things without input, but if the worst had happened…
So in addition to Kazama Frylock Kiryu, I've also started this in progress masterpiece. I haven't spent very long on this one yet, but I'm recording my drawing of it and turning it into a time lapse video for funsies
So I've been getting into doing art and I thought it would be fun to do fanart of Kiryu as a catboy. Anyway, his little patch-beard made me think of Frylock so now here's my WIP Masterpiece Behold Kazama "Frylock" Kiryu!
Man I haven't posted anything related to Piezo here in ages, sorry to like the maybe one person that was following me for that here.
Have this adorable Kamijirou moment
Silly moment for this chapter really can't really post anything else as there are no really pieces of dialogue that don't spoil the story.
Am I writing fan-fiction?
Yes, yes I am.
Me, or anyone writing Mineta as a decent person, quite improbable.
Really want to explore more of the characters, give them other things to do, and Mineta's unexpected art skills are one of those.
Am I writing fan-fiction?
Yes, yes I am.
the boy is in pogress and occurring
Second teaser, pretty fun writing dialogue for a nickname heavy character like Katsuki.
Am I writing fan-fiction?
Yes, yes I am.
Am I writing fan-fiction?
Yes, yes I am.
WIP I’m too busy to finish it rn but here it is so far
You probably know whose back that is and what happened to it
Sketchy Ten in sloooooow progress
Little spoiler of hurt-comfort wip of Ten and Fourteen the idea of which I got suddenly couple of months ago
The image of the idea was so vague and didn't want to look for refs, so... it was quite challenging, but I'm satisfied so far...