daffooo

[daffooo]

Probably comissioning Scott or 23 doing this someday.

Peak thoughts

I always love fanart of characters killing or otherwise hurting another version of themselves. Yes yes yes yes

[daffooo]

I need to visit café's more this looks heavenly.

Giantest cinnamon bun in the world #mygreed

[daffooo]

Odd Job

Part 2/?

TW: Gore, trauma, firearms, the works.

Scotty turned the engine off, frowning as he heard slow rhythmic clicking from the dash for a few seconds. "Probably nothing," he paused looking in the rearview mirror, where a short and thin brunette woman sat, side eyeing him, "Lyn I'm sure it's fine."

She chuckled. "Yeah sure it is, wanna roll any higher than a one on a die to prove your luck's on the up or do you just have faith your car isn't gonna collapse?"

With a little smirk, he flipped her off through the mirror, and with a grin she returned the gesture. Scotty glanced around through the windows, he was miles deep into the forest, nearby a popular local hiking trail. At the trail's entrance, there was an attached office, likely handing out fliers and selling supplies as well as keeping track of who goes in and who comes out. Riley told him he could get info from the people that run the place.

He sighed, glancing back at the mirror, she was gone from the backseat, he was alone in the car.

Getting out with a grunt, when Scott closed the door, the handle jiggled a little more than it probably should. He ignored it, turning to the trail's entrance and approaching the outpost.

The inside of the building was nice and cool, probably due to the noisy industrial air conditioner that was attached outside. In recent weather it wouldn't be surprising if it had been running non-stop since the middle of May.

The man kicked back at the front desk waved at Scotty, who approached with appropriately friendly demeanor. "Hey, I heard you guys needed a hunter."

The man's smile sank, taking his big boots off of the desk. He took a deep breath with a little shudder. "Y-yeah, we do. Man I was really hoping I didn't have to meet another one after the last guy," he paused, standing up, "so you're the guy working for Riley huh? Didn't know she had the money to shill out from that junk shop she runs."

The hunter nodded, straightening out his vest. "I take it you met the last guy this thing killed." Scott's eyes went soft, he hated seeing people deal with this stuff when they didn't sign up for it.

The man at the desk nodded. "Yeah, I spoke to him, rough and tumble type, real classic biker dude." He reached for his radio, speaking once more before using it. "I picked his bones and that shredded leather jacket out of some bushes too. The shit you see as a volunteer nowadays..."

He raised a finger to Scott, putting the conversation on hold as he clicked the radio. "Schafer you got your radio on? Over."

A voice crackled back, hard to get a read on personality through the low quality speaker. "Yep. Over."

A quick response. "Different hunter is here for the job, you wanna come see him? Over."

"Yeah, keep him around, I'll be off the trail soon, gimme 20. Over and out."

The man clipped his radio back on his belt. "Schafer's a good guy. He's a big time donor to the trail, real rich, he's the one who put the bounty out on this thing, so he's paying Riley for your help."

Scott grumbled, putting two and two together. Riley hires him for dirt cheap to collect the bounty on this UL, then she takes the reward. Lady's lucky he doesn't go back on his word.

The brunette woman from earlier leaned up against Scott, as though she had come from nowhere. "Easy tiger, you need those wards."

He nodded to the man at the desk, pretending Lyn wasn't pestering him. "Alright, I'll wait around, I'll be out at my car waiting."

|°|•|.|

"Hey, you're the hunter fella right?" Scott heard a man call from the entrance of the trail. He looked up from the shotgun shell which he was cutting into to modify. Scotty was standing at the open trunk of his car which was full of supplies he needed in his day to day. A food cooler, water bottles, ammunition, some materials from a hardware store, radios and other helpful items.

The man from the trailhead came up to him with a smile. He had a hiking stick in each hand and a big backpack slung over his shoulders. "Heya man, I'm Schafer, I posted that bounty. The last guy called them ULs."

Scott nodded, popping the shell into the trunk and folding his knife up. "Then the guy knew his stuff, at least a bit. You know info, have a file to go off of maybe?"

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, I got photos of what it's done. Other than that though, uh, we know it messes with phones and radios, screws signals, cameras, any form of communication." He took his hands out of the loops of his walking sticks, setting them up against Scott's car before taking off the backpack to rifle through his stuff.

His words were met with a quick nod. "All ULs mess with signals, just their nature, it's why no one can photograph them or record them. It's also why most of their victims just vanish, can't call for help when it gets you."

Schafer surprisingly smiled, as though he was really invested in learning about these things. "I see. We've been telling people to keep their radios on while on the trail and to turn around and leave immediately if it starts to go haywire. So far it hasn't gotten anyone in a year since we started implementing that, but almost no one even walks the trails anymore. There's talk of shutting it down completely, and I can't bear to lose my favorite place in the world." He passed Scott a folder filled with printed photos and notes.

The pictures were nasty work. Claw marks on the belly of a deer with surgical precision to remove the guts, but the skulls were caved in like a sledgehammer to a cantaloupe. Looking closer, it seemed like the skull had been grappled first and then crushed, there was plenty of kicked up dirt around where the legs would have been, meaning it didn't die suddenly. Nothing on the bodies or marks in the woods indicated this thing had no capabilities of range, but it was an ambush predator.

Scott looked to Schafer. "Do you find trampled or crushed birds? This thing seems like a climber, probably pretty nimble and I don't see a lot of disturbed bushes in these photos."

The man shook his head. "Nah, but we have been finding a lot of what we thought were owl pellets until we started finding big bones in them, shattered leg bones, this thing is a messy eater but odds are if it can, it probably eats things whole. But even then we don't find many birds in the pellets." He paused, taking out a map.

"I think it digs, or something adjacent to that," Schafer said, " I can't prove it, we never find tunnels, but the attacks that happen in meadows or other low cover areas still have all the signs of a surprise attack. And most of all, the damned thing leaves no tracks ever. I've looked for broken branches, disturbed bushes, flattened ferns, nothing. No one has ever seen it before."

Scott nodded, looking at the photos intently. "You got a damn good eye. Thanks Schaf." He was going to say he was heading out to start his hunt, before the man showed him a map with a triangulated circle.

"Here's its primary hunting grounds, decent ways off of the trail, that's why it doesn't get people, and very few people who stick to the trail ever even catch it on the radio. This is from me spending the past year searching until I stumble into the radio interference and then leaving every day. I used that to line up a general area for people to stay out of no matter what." She smiled wide, like a kid at a candy store before handing it over.

Scott grinned, taking the offering. "Thanks man, really this is more setup than I almost ever get."

When Scott looked down at the map, Schafer eyed him up and down for a moment before leaning against his car. "Well I want you to come back alive, you hunters do so much for people." He crossed his arms, considering saying more but not wanting to come across as unprofessional.

"Well, I think I've got what I need, so I suppose I'm off." With that, he walked to his trunk, looking for certain equipment.

Scott had a long day ahead of him.

≈

Hello all, here I go continuing Scott's story! This one was way more setup than character action like I prefer, but all things in balance I suppose!

[daffooo]

Results are in!

This wasn't helpful at all. :(

To my like, audience of 2

(though mostly just you @lynxfrost13 )

[daffooo]

Damnit, who tied this!? You guys aren't very helpful.

To my like, audience of 2

(though mostly just you @lynxfrost13 )

[daffooo]

To my like, audience of 2

(though mostly just you @lynxfrost13 )

[daffooo]

OMGOMGOMG IT'S THE SHEEEEEEE

A small price to pay for a sliver of your old life

Finally there's a face to put on the Gestalt character I talked about here. I'm still figuring out the colors so they're subject to change, but Meredith is officially here to stay and cause some problems.

I should return to the Artfight stuff now aaaahhhh,,, @lynxfrost13 @sosadraws I remember you were interested in her tho :]

[daffooo]

small 'filler' post while I study for my last two exams and prep for Artfight,,, assorted Kratzer doodles for your viewing

[daffooo]

Signalis OC nation rejoice for I have passed all my exams and LOOKIE HERE, NEW REFS! I have yet to upload two of these freaks to Artfight (which I am dreading but it must be done before the site explodes) but they're going here first!

As teased, here are the Starlings! They have something interesting and peculiar and extremely gay going on. These are pretty barebones but I'm happy with how they came out in such a short time.

And, just because she deserves something extra, a ref for Kestrel! Complete with some new lore bits as a treat :]

I don't think I'll be able to finish refs for the Eules in time, but I might make profiles for them anyway and use the only colored piece I have as a placeholder. I might as well crunch some more while I'm feeling alright. For the yuri...

Artfight is almost upon us. Good hunting, everyone.

[daffooo]

Sparring

TW: Depiction of PTSD, gore, violence and rude language.

The sound that left Gale's mouth as she hit the ground made Tom look twice at her. He let go of her human arm which he had craned back in a grapple at the right angle to make her other, supernatural limb, unable to fight back.

"You're over relying on your abilities. You're skilled sure, but when you're head to head all that skill goes out the window." Tom stepped away from her, letting his sparring partner catch her breath.

Catch her breath she did, coughing a little as she scrambled to her feet. "Christ man not everyone was a jarhead like you, just tell me how to beat you and we'll try at that."

He rolled his eyes. "You exert your arm in combat, let's say you use it to block some bullets and it's out of commission for a few minutes. How do you defend yourself Gale?" He paused, watching her gesture to where she normally kept a sidearm and axe. "You asked me how to improve at hand to hand so don't get smart with me."

Gale adjusted her bright green and yellow hair in the tie before raising her arms in a guard. "Then take me down man, I'm ready this time." She took a low stance, and held an active guard that was minimally offensive, electing to focus on lining up the perfect strike rather than keeping up offense.

Tom shook his head. "Terrible. Not necessarily because your idea is bad but because it wouldn't work for you. You wanna outlast, right? Get me to close the gap and let you find the right time to strike. Gale you're anemic, you can't keep up for an extended bout, if you want to maintain that you'll want a less active guard, focus more on closing the gap and end the fight pronto." He approached, holding out a hand.

As he closed the distance she swung on him, a left hook for the ribs, normally not great but with the added strength connecting the swing would lay him out.

It wouldn't connect though.

Gale spun off kilter as she put follow-through into what she swore was going to hit. The plume of nicotine stinking smoke hit her in the face and before she knew it, Tom had his arms looped over her extended bicep, and with firmly planted feet he connected his shoulder to her inhuman limb and used her momentum to swing her to the ground.

"I was offering some help do not ever do that to me again or so help me God I won't just end the session there and then I'll kick you off the fucking squad and send you packing back to the Yakuza where I'm sure they'll happily bury you in a ditch am I clear!?" His voice didn't raise by a wide margin, but his tone was one of a soldier ready to get someone court martialed.

Gale only barely didn't hear a word though,as she hit the ground again her eyes didn't see the room around her.

Her right side was singed, the scent of her still smoldering flesh was somehow the least upsetting feeling as she looked to her left to see a severed and crushed left arm, courtesy of the truck tire flung free from the explosion. She screamed, but she couldn't hear it. Her ears rang so loud she couldn't hear the fire. She saw a man squat down by her side.

"Gale?" Tom held out a water bottle, and poured it on her right arm. The feeling was so unfamiliar and counter to what ran through her head, she sat up. She was back on the mat, she looked down at her hands, one scarred from old burns, one now made of twisted vines and warped wood.

Tom sighed. "I went a stretch too far. Maybe we'll pick this up tomorrow, eh?" He held a hand out to help her stand.

She took it. "Nah, run it back, I'll listen this time bossman."

~

I hope it reads well cause I did NOT proofread this lol. More Gale lore!! ^^

[daffooo]

Odd Job

Part 1/?

Content warning: Gore, trauma, the works.

Scotty leaned back in his seat after turning the engine off, looking out the driver's side window at the big sign above the door that read; "Riley's Mystic Boutique" in flowy letters.

He chuckled before rubbing his forehead, "that cashier better not have been bullshitting me." The man opened up the door of the rusty two door, stepping out and straightening out his vest only to notice a small stain on his shoulder. "I gotta stop getting ketchup with my hash browns I just got this thing cleaned."

The bell hanging at the door jingled as Scotty pushed in, scrunching his face slightly as incense struck his nose. The inside of the building had the signs of your average street quack psychic, just spruced up, a few shelves of unreasonably priced tarot cards and salt lamps among other things. He tried his best not to judge, it wasn't his place to call someone phony, hume hunted monsters for a living after all.

His thoughts were cut off by a shrill voice, raised to a tone of anger and disappointment. "Hey asshole read the sign on the door! I outta turn down any business from you!" He turned back, reading the sign taped to the window he hadn't given any mind to. He had to read it from the light shining through the paper to see the mirrored text from where he was standing; "No firearms or weapons allowed on the premises."

He gave pause at this, looking down at his vest. He had Lyn on him but... She's undetectable when concealed. How did she-.

"Fancy gun yeah, but I got an eye for this stuff hunter. Go put it in your car and I'll still do some business with you." The woman came out from the curtains behind the front counter, dressed head to toe in some real classic 70s hippie stuff. She kinda rocked it, the long flowy skirt with a messily patterned cardigan that looked like it was made of some profoundly uncomfortable material. The woman, probably Riley, stood at about a foot taller than Scotty, and she leaned down a bit to rest a hand on the counter.

Doing his best to seem non-threatening, Scotty raised his hands with a small smile. "Alright alright, I guess you are the real deal." With that he stepped out and popped Lyn in his trunk before returning, trying to keep this quick. "Sorry to scare you miss..." He trailed off while waving a hand, leaving her an opening to introduce herself.

"Riley, and it's Mrs, you must be former HA huh? Pretty obvious, you stink of a long history with demons. But I don't have what you seek." She crossed her arms, leaning back, it was pretty clear she wouldn't talk to a normal customer. "No one short of maybe Eliza could lift that curse you got, so I'd suggest you stop looking."

Scott chuckled, at first he was worried she wouldn't help, but it was clear she was just making an assumption. "This isn't about the curse. Well, it is, but I'm not looking for a cure. I know damn well if my family's luck could be solved, someone would've by now. Nah I'm looking for wards. Those fancy guardian sigils and stuff."

Riley looked down her nose at him, but flashed a smile. "Let me guess, your luck keeps breaking your equipment... Maybe a car. It seemed that weapon of yours was resistant to the curse, but that's just a regular car outside."

With a snap of his fingers, Scotty nodded. "Damn thing is bleeding me dry. I've had to get it towed three times this month, and as you could imagine, hunting doesn't pay all that amazingly."

Her smile sank a bit, leaning against the counter. "See that's MY problem with doing something like that. You're clearly broke. You can't pay for a service like-," she was cut off suddenly by his shout.

"Bullshit! Come on, wards are cheap to make lady, you just don't wanna deal with a hunter!" He glared daggers up at her, stepping up to the counter.

"I'm not saying that to be rid of you. And sure wards are cheap to create but my experience wasn't, it's not exactly easy to get as good as I am, I gotta provide for my wife man." She didn't back down, though she held a few small fears that the conversation could go bad. Hunters aren't exactly known for their chill or willingness to follow the law.

Scott groaned, taking a deep breath and looking to the knickknacks and junk on the counters. "But you're just gonna turn away the first real business you've had in months? More interested in selling junk to the idiots who come to you for help than an idiot you actually CAN help?"

She tapped her nails against the counter, acrylic, small extensions, solid deep blue with dark purple tips. "I didn't say I'd turn you away. Just that I might need a different kinda payment. A job more specifically. I'm not just gonna let a hunter swing by without pitching something to them. Do it and I'll slide you a discount."

Scott's eyes widened. "A job, here? Really?" He sighed, nothing was ever simple for him. "What's your take on the details? Long or short? And what's the risk level?"

She chuckled. "Got no clue on the timeframe, but it's got another hunter 6 feet under by now, so I'd reckon you're in for some danger."

Scotty grumbled rubbing the bridge of his nose, he didn't have a choice, he needed her help so the job really would be non-negotiable. "Just my luck..."

≈

Hey gang! This one's part of the other stories I was writing, but isn't particularly focused on any of those characters. It'll follow Scott Gallagher, former Demon Hunter turned freelance monster hunter on a mission to hunt down a particular witch that killed his closest friend. The catch is that he's cursed with terrible luck in life, and always runs into trouble everywhere he goes. I'll update this now and again and might commission artists in the future for ref photos. Okay byeeeeeee!

[daffooo]

Also, more OC writing coming soon because these characters are burning holes in my brain.

[daffooo]

This is gonna be my "walked uphill to school both ways."

[daffooo]

Gets up real close to your ear. Hi I love you

[daffooo]

Space elf birthday!!!

Tomorrow is a National Holiday

[daffooo]

Should I be afraid...?

GASP! More jay content? How do I enjoy all of this while minimizing risk of overdose from peak?

YESS HAII i have been very busy. I am ECSTATIC you like jay stuff BECAUSE i got MORE. YES more. I cannot be halted nor delayed. please dont die of peak that would be very sad.

[daffooo]

Chimera

Grey looked up from their book as the black Camaro came to a stop, they snapped it shut with a swift motion. Some old biology book, specifically on anthropology. She had gotten really into reading over the past month, helped her build her vocabulary which she always felt lacked the variety and color that everyone else spoke with. A proper education was part of that pile of things she needed to catch up on after missing out on real childhood.

A red LED emoticon of a smiling face glinted from the mask of her driver, shining in the rearview mirror. "Should I keep it idle or will you be out a while."

Grey took a breath. "Keep it idle, I'll text you if I feel safe enough to stay longer. Chernabog is quite famously fickle. While I don't expect a fight, let's stay prepared."

They nodded. "You got it boss. Just maybe don't bring them back with you. They give me the heebie-jeebies." They fluttered one hand and tilted their head down to face their phone. "Go get 'em tiger."

Grey grabbed her weapon as she opened the door, stepping out quickly. She placed her sheathed sword on her magnetic hip holster, shimmying the saya back and forth to ensure it was on snug. She looked around for a moment before closing the door.

They parked just outside the gate of an overgrown garden, the ornate fence overtaken by ivy and vines, the sun shone down bright on the area, and she could hear the fountain inside the garden. Someone stood by the gate, a face she recognized but couldn't place.

The man in the red suit by the entry waved. "Hello Grey. Lovely to see you again, I was just leaving, Chernabog is expecting you, so no need to delay." He held the door for her.

As she passed him, the two made eye contact. The man's pupils were snakelike, and as he grinned, is teeth were a bit strange, longer canines, perfectly straight incisors. Grey smiled back as he shut the gate behind her.

The fountain was louder now, the path through the garden led to a center gazebo where a cloaked figure sat at a table with a cup of tea, their chair was out from the table slightly angled to face the fountain. They said nothing as Grey approached.

The swordswoman took the seat across from the cloaked figure. "I apologize for bringing a weapon to such a place."

The figure waved their hand dismissively, but did not face her. "You've no need to apologize to me. You and I are the same, weaponry is a part of us." They took the teacup, reaching under their hood to lift their mask and sip from the cup.

Grey nodded, taking a few moments to watch the fountain, it was three gargoyles around a center pillar in the design of a daffodil that poured water down along the stone imp-like wings. "I've seen what you've been doing. I didn't know there were so many Chimeras out there. So many people like us."

Chernabog didn't answer for a moment, tapping their pale fingers against the table, their nails like claws. "They've been making Chimeras for centuries. The SSAF simply turned it into a business. The root of the problem is pursuit of power, godhood even." They paused with a sigh, reaching up and lowering the hood and removing the mask.

Grey shifted in her seat, nervous at the sight of an old enemy. They had no reason to fight anymore, but it didn't prevent her anxiety from spiking at the thought of having to battle Chernabog. They had a long time suspicion of it being 23 behind the mask, but it was nerve racking to have it confirmed.

23 adjusted their glasses and finally turned to face Grey. "I'm so sorry for making you nervous." Their voice was night and day from the last time Grey had heard them over a year ago, once so full of rage and pure fury, now softer than a mother speaking to a distraught child. "I assure you, I hold no I'll will. Even when I had battled you in the past I never considered you an enemy. It's so good to see you face to face, my sister."

Grey raised her eyebrow, placing her hands on the table. She hadn't even realized her instinct to reach for her sword, perhaps that was why 23 had immediately noticed how nervous she was. Never did have a great pokerface. "Sister? I am not one of Mikhailov's children. They took me off of the streets."

23's eyes shifted, a deep sorrow and concern for the woman across the table washed over them. "But they did take you, they took the chance to be human from you, the choice to live your life. We were raised in the same pain, though if me calling you by such a familial name is uncomfortable I will refrain. I just feel so connected to all of our kind, not just the fellow spawn of Mikhailov."

Grey was genuinely taken aback by their willingness to claim her as family. "No... I don't mind," they said, watching 23 pour them a cup of tea, "it's refreshing to be a part of something."

Her words were met with a slight chuckle. "You say it like it's a movement. No I see you as kin regardless of your choices. I saw 19 as my sister even as she tried to slaughter me. That love is unconditional, and what happened in the end still pains me." They placed the cup in front of Grey, but did not ask her to drink.

Grey accepted, listening intently. "I just was under the impression," she took a moment, having spoken before completing her thought, "I thought you offered the meeting to recruit me into your... Efforts."

23 cleared their throat, shaking their head to dismiss the notion. "No, no, my pitch could've been made over the phone. I wanted to meet you. I did intend to ask you while you were here but that was just for convenience."

The two didn't say anything for a few seconds, each deciding to drink for a moment. After the silence, Grey spoke back with a bit more clarity and choice words.

"So a godless world?"

This sparked a proper laugh from the pale redhead in the cloak. They tittered for a few moments before chilling out. "I really am sorry, it just sounds so unserious when put like that. Like the start to a bad stand up or something."

Grey chuckled a bit too, seeing what they meant. "Yeah, it does sound funny, but it's not my fault you're practically a walking parody."

The two laughed together for a few short moments, enjoying levity despite the dark topic. When the moment returned to silence they drank, only after did 23 continue. "Godless is possibly the wrong term. I just don't think such powerful entities should use everything beneath them like pieces to be sacrificed on a chess board." They sighed, leaning back in the metal chair. "At least, not without knowing what it's like to be like us. We shouldn't be ruled by gods, because gods don't know what it's like to be a person."

The swordswoman soaked in 23's words, certainly got heavy fast. They mulled it over for a solid minute or two as the two listened to the water trickling from the fountain. "And you want me to be a part of this?"

23 shook their head once more. "No, I want you to do what you believe in, what you love, pursue what makes you happy. I want you to flourish, sister. I'm stating my war as an option, presented for your consideration. I'll be happy no matter your answer so long as you know your answer makes you happy."

The space in between each of their statements grew longer each time one spoke. Grey simply needed to think hard. They understood 23's point, far beyond just the little rundown of their core belief they provided. They didn't believe Eliza, or the Tulpas were truly evil, but the way they tore people's lives apart over their godly disputes and wars was unfair. Still, a war was something she had no interest in. Grey closed her eyes for a moment, the thought of the woman she loved overwhelming her decision. She couldn't die for some belief or cause, not anymore. Fight for one sure, but die for one?

She loved Ember too much to go to war.

"I'm sorry Chernabog. I can't." She rested her hand on the hilt of her blade, mentally preparing herself for a battle. She couldn't know if 23 truly meant what they said, or if it was all a bluff to get her to join.

23 smiled gently. "Good. I'd never ask you not to follow your heart, sister. Here," they slowly reached out, opening their palm and producing what seemed like a dog whistle, "a gift. No matter where you are, if you fear you may not survive, or you need my fury to save something or someone you love, blow into it, and I will find you."

...

Driver perked up from their phone as they heard the car door open. "Welcome back, I take it you had a good lil chat. Where to next?"

Grey hummed to herself, looking down at the golden whistle in her palm. "Home. I want to see Ember tonight."