#Mike UWO

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office chapter 6

AO3

Chapter 5

"Hey, hey."

Eugene groaned weakly as a voice penetrated his slumber. Who was that? Where was he? Why did everything hurt? Was he sick?

"Oh, uh, it's just... this is my stop, so I'm gonna go now, okay? And I wanted to make sure you were okay 'cause you don't look too good. So. You good?"

Eugene processed maybe half of whatever that was. He fought to open his eyes, hissing at the light, silently yelling at the world to stop spinning and shut up while he figured out where he was (then feeling bad for being rude to the world). A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jolted back to reality, letting out a little hiss.

"Hey? Dude? Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

Eugene breathed in air which felt cold. He became aware that he felt hot, and sweaty. Did he have a fever? Wait, that voice was... what was his name. Mike.

"Goodness, is he alright?"

"Er, I don't know. Eugene? Hey?"

Eugene finally processed that Mike wanted a response from him. He didn't want to. He felt hot and grimy and weirdly hollow inside, like parts of him he'd never wanted to be aware of were hanging open and exposed to the air. He finally managed to crack his eyes open and glance down at his chest, which was, strangely, intact.

"Did someone say 'Eugene'?"

Linda? His head was too heavy to look, but after a second, her face appeared in his line of sight. "Eugene? Honey? Are you alright?"

"Uh..." Eugene tried. Just the effort of generating sound made his head spin.

"Do you know him?" Mike asked quietly.

"Yes." Linda smiled at him gently. "I can take care of him from here. Thank you for your help, young man."

"Okay. Thanks. 'Bye. Uh, hope you get better, Eugene."

Linda's presence soon pulled up against Eugene's side, and he sagged against her (taking a second to wonder whether it was her or him that was burning hot).

"Woah, Eugene, don't fall asleep just yet." Linda's hand pointed Eugene's heavy face up toward hers. "Are you sick?"

Eugene fought to keep his eyes open. "I'm... a-uh... th' ghosts..." Oh, he'd tipped forward on her shoulder again. Uh, oops. This seemed like it would be a good time to sleep again, actually. If his head wasn't burning up. That didn't feel good, he'd like it to stop.

"...any water today? Come on, hey. Have you spent lots of time out in the sun? Eugene?"

Loud footsteps came over, and Eugene gritted his teeth as their owner spoke, close and unfamiliar and loud. "Is your son alright? Sick people aren't supposed to be using public transit, you know. At least not without masks."

"We're sorry," Linda said gently, though her voice was still a dagger to Eugene's brain, along with the sounds of everyone breathing and the subway grinding against the train tracks and somebody coughing once and the way every jolt of the train violently jerked Eugene's body up and down. What was going on? Linda was talking again. "...at the next stop."

"Alright, fine. Er, make sure he gets the help he needs. He looks awful."

"Okay," Linda responded cheerfully. As soon as the footsteps retreated again, she whispered sharply into Eugene's ear, "Eugene, I need to know whether to call an ambulance."

He jolted, then heaved a breathy moan. "Not again... I'm poor..."

"Eugene," she said, in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Hhh..." Eugene did feel awful, but the last scraps of logic in his brain knew that the hospitals of the living wouldn't have any idea what to do with this. "I'm just sick... and, um. Water. Yeah... need t'... drink water." There, that was a good argument. Eugene's face buried itself in Linda's shoulder again, and he gave a little sigh.

Linda grumbled even as she gently rubbed Eugene's back. "You had better be telling me the truth about this, okay?"

...

Charlie sat blankly on the wooden floor. Luke was standing near her, and she could glance over at the scissors he was holding, half-open, black ichor congealed on the blades.

Charlie couldn't look up, but she could feel the eyes of her father from every direction. At any second, whatever was holding him back-- oh, River's seal-- would fail, and he would reach in and drag her out, away from her friends and the temporary freedom she clung to, and back into the empty, dusty hallways of his control. He was such a large ghost. He must have died with such a burning hatred of her, one that had only been festering for however many years it had been. He would catch her, and this time there would be no escape. He was already dead. He could no longer be killed.

Distantly, Charlie registered Sean giving Luke a rundown on how things worked with evil spirits, on ghost artifacts, and how River's hair was protecting them. Luke's footsteps eventually retreated from the room, and there was the sound of running water. Charlie wished for protection, so she was sitting with her back to a wall, but she could feel the presence of her terrifying father directly on the other side, and felt already imprisoned by the knowledge that she was inches away from touching him. She wondered if she wanted to scoot away from the wall, but she couldn't bring herself to move, except to lean forward onto her knees. Luke's footsteps returned, and he placed her scissors, sparkling and clean, on the wood floor in front of her.

"You okay?" Luke asked gently.

"How much did Sean tell you about the ghost out there?" Charlie rasped.

"A tortured spirit, or 'monster', powerful and dangerous. Must've been nasty when he grabbed you."

"Huh," Charlie said. Her brain registered that Sean didn't know the spirit was her father. Luke didn't know. Somehow none of them had yet figured out that she was the entire reason he'd returned as a monster. That she had murdered him. Fun web of lies she'd woven, delicate as spider silk to be torn to shreds any second.

"Are you okay?" Luke repeated.

Charlie dropped her head back into her knees, waiting for Luke to give up on getting words out of her and leave.

Luke pushed the scissors closer to her.

Charlie closed her eyes. She didn't want to pick it up and then feel just as powerless as before.

"Ugh." Luke grabbed the scissors again and tapped them impatiently against the floor. "Your name is Charlie, right?"

Charlie grumbled out a sigh.

"You're being self loathy, aren't you? I know what that looks like. I know Eugene. Well guess what? You don't get to." Luke took Charlie's hand and placed the scissors into them. "Making yourself suffer by not accepting help from people isn't going to help anything. It's just going to make you feel worse. And I don't know you, but I know Eugene didn't even deserve it. This big ghost showing up isn't your fault."

Charlie tightened her grip around the scissors. "Shut up. I'm not like Eugene. You don't know what you're talking about."

Luke huffed a breath. "Fine. Be like that." He stood up and walked away.

Charlie let her grip loosen again, her scissors hanging off of one finger. Her eyes were wet. "I do deserve it," she whispered.

...

"This is fine, right? I mean, there can be lots of normal reasons why Luke isn't waking up, right?" Oliver asked desperately.

"How old are those smelling salts?" Joy said, ripping them out of Oliver's hand, then sniffing them. She gave a deranged little laugh. "Okay, yeah, these are definitely too old."

Oliver had returned to gently jostling Luke's limp body back and forth. "Luke, hey? Hey? Pleeease wake up."

"Hospitals are so expensive," Joy muttered to herself as she started pacing. "Do you think he has insurance? He's gotta, right? He's a cop. Maybe this isn't that bad, but it would be irresponsible not to take him to the hospital, right?"

"Hospital?" Oliver repeated, voice cracking. "He's-- he's possessed or something, Joy! We've gone and stuck a magic flower we know nothing about in his mouth, and now he's unconscious! Hospitals don't know what to do to fix stuff like that!"

Joy threw her hands apart. "Fine, Mister Supernatural! Then what do you suggest we do?"

Oliver hesitated. He glanced worriedly over at Luke's limp form, then took a deep breath. "I think... we should talk to Eugene."

Joy blinks at him. "What?"

Oliver cringes. "Luke was right. We shouldn't have been doing any of this behind his back. Not just because it was dishonest, but because we didn't know what we were getting into either."

Joy's expression sank. "But... we're so close. We finally have a lead. If we come clean to Eugene and stop now, we'll never find out what's wrong with him."

"We have more important things to worry about right now," Oliver said, pointing at Luke. "Whether or not this is something doctors can treat, Eugene will know how to fix it. It's his flower. We shouldn't have taken it."

Joy sagged against the wall. "Okay. Alright. Get him on the phone."

Oliver pulled up and clicked on Eugene's number, putting it on speaker. It rang into the quiet room as Joy and Oliver waited for Eugene to pick up. Then it reached his generic voicemail.

Joy raised a worried eyebrow at Oliver as the robotic voice listed the unavailable number. The beep sounded, and Oliver spoke into the phone to leave a message. "Hey, Eugene? Please call us back as soon as you can. We need your help." Oliver considered speaking the confession into the phone receiver then, but the words tangled on his tongue. There was an awkward second of silence, then he jabbed the hang up button.

Joy sat down onto a chair, rubbing her arms. "Call him again? Text?"

Oliver gnawed his lip anxiously. "This can't really wait for a text response. Maybe we should go to his house."

Joy combed a hand through her hair. "It might not be a good idea to move Luke though. Should one of us stay with him?" She grimaced. "I can go ahead and do it. This is my fault, anyway."

"Hey, no, if you want to go, go. I'd rather be with Luke so I don't have to be worrying all the time if something else has happened to him."

"You know I'll call you if anything happens out there though," Joy said, grabbing her bag and checking her shoelaces. "And I'll tell you when I find anything out."

"'Kay. Thanks." Oliver gave her a nervous thumbs up. "Good luck."

"Gotcha," Joy said, with an earnest mock salute, then she dashed up the staircase and out the door.

She pulled her own phone out of her pocket as she marched down the street, double checking for texts. Her phone started ringing, and she jumped. Eugene's number. She quickly answered, putting the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, this is Linda," said a matronly voice from the other side. "I'm with Eugene right now and saw you'd called."

"Oh. Hi." Joy pivoted and started speedwalking back towards her house and Oliver. "Could you give the phone to him? I really need to talk to Eugene."

"Alright, just a minute. Or... no, I'm sorry, he's not very lucid right now."

Joy's eyebrows pinched. "What? What's wrong with him?"

"He's dehydrated, I think. We're on our way to my flower shop."

"I'm going to come to you, okay?" Joy turned the phone to speaker so she could tap out a text to Oliver as she continued talking to Linda. "This is pretty important. I have to talk to Eugene."

"Alright then, I'll see you soon. It's 'Linda's Flower Shop'."

"Thank you," Joy said, then hung up.

As she passed her house, Oliver burst out of it and ran up to her. "Hi. Changed my mind. I'm coming too. Door's locked, Luke'll be fine."

Joy snickered, wondering if he'd even seen her text. "Whatever floats your boat."

Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her along as he started sprinting down the street towards the flower shop.

...

The world faded in and out, and Eugene was slumped into Linda after their conversation for an instant, then being helped unsteadily to his feet the next, then they were heading up the staircase out of the subway station, with most of Eugene's weight supported by Linda (he wasn't completely sure he'd been supporting any of it, but his legs kept on moving as far as he was aware). At one point Linda slowed down to talk to someone on the phone, and Eugene couldn't register what she was saying with the way the words grated on his ears. At least the walk to Linda's flower shop was short enough.

Eugene thought he was probably imagining the aura of hatred choking the air leading closer to the shop. Maybe he was worse off than he thought.

He was forced back to lucidity when he comprehended Oliver and Joy dashing up towards the flower shop just as he and Linda neared it. Why were they here? Did Linda call them in to help him? This might be rough to explain.

The walked up to him and Linda, and Eugene tried to pull himself upright, but the wince on Joy's face made it clear he hadn't managed to fool her.

"Wow, you look bad," said Joy. "Is this really just dehydration?"

Eugene tried to pull out a response for her, but his head was spinning, and for a second it was all he could do to keep from fainting. Oliver stepped forward and slipped an arm under the side where Linda wasn't before Eugene could muster an answer.

"Whatever. Let's get you some water."

That malicious energy Eugene had sensed became powerful, and his eyes widened as he realized it was not in his imagination. Linda reached her hand towards the door of the flower shop. Eugene gripped the lock of River's hair in his pocket and opened his mouth to tell her to stop.

Several things happened very quickly. Linda turned the doorknob, and then cried out as the door was ripped wide open out of her grasp. A force slammed past her, and Oliver's grip was all that kept Linda and Eugene from hitting the pavement. Eugene tried to swing out River's hair, but he was too slow and too weak to do anything more than swipe harmlessly at the air in front of him.

A scream that sounded like Charlie stabbed directly into Eugene's head, then the force shoved back out the door, whipping it roughly against its hinges hard enough they likely would have snapped if not for the hair from River they were tied with.

And all was quiet.

Eugene's head was spinning again, and he spent a minute just doubled over next to Oliver (who was gaping in confusion) trying not to throw up. His chest was hurting again, though he was pretty sure he hadn't actually gotten injured again. Maybe soul wounds could get re-opened? Like when half-healed gashes started bleeding again? He needed to sit down. He needed to lie down. In the shade. Had he dropped River's hair? No, it was still clenched in his hand. He laboriously put it back in his pocket.

Also, what had just happened?

"Eugene?" Oliver nervously asked. "Do you know what that was about? There's no way that was the wind."

Eugene was tired. He was hurting. There was no way he could come up with an excuse. "Don't know," he mumbled breathlessly. A half truth. He could suspect it was a ghost, but he didn't know which one. Unless... there was something on the edge of his realization. What was he forgetting? His head was thick, everything hurt.

"Let's get him inside," Joy said. She sounded really worried. About the ghost? No, wait, about him. 'Cause she didn't know about the ghost.

Nnoooo, not the stairs, he didn't want to struggle up the... now they were at the top of the stairs. Eugene was slipping in and out of consciousness again. Had someone carried him up the stairs? Now both Joy and Oliver were supporting him.

They lowered him gently onto a couch, and Eugene liked how he could sink down into it, though not how warm it was. He could take a nap here. Should he take a nap here?

Presently Eugene noticed that he was alone in some sort of drawing room with Oliver and Joy. Joy was staring at him nervously while Oliver glanced around the room like he was trying to avoid his gaze.

"What?" Eugene asked tiredly.

Joy laughed desperately. "Well, uh, so we might have messed up. A little bit. And we need your help."

Oliver burst out, "We stole your magic flower and Luke put it in his mouth and then he fainted and we don't know what's wrong and we're really sorry and we hate to put this on you when you're sick and we promise we were just trying to help make things easier 'cause we were worried about you but now we've just made things worse and we're so sorry and we'll never do it again."

Eugene squinted, struggling to keep up with how fast Oliver had been talking. "...What?"

Joy grimaced. "Yeah. It was my idea. Probably a bad one. But, well... we were worried about you. How you've been stressed and depressed lately. You've always been so mysterious about your job, and the fact that something happened with it and you couldn't tell us what made us really worried."

Eugene gave a little sigh. He'd guessed this conversation would happen eventually. He'd just wanted to believe that his friends wouldn't ask, that he wouldn't have to try very hard to keep them away from the truth and things would just be fine. Still, he really was not in the condition to be thinking of explanations for everything. "Do we have to talk about this right now?"

Joy looked away awkwardly. "I mean, yeah. We need your help with Luke."

"Oh yeah," Eugene responded tiredly. "What did you say about him?"

Oliver responded. "He put your magic flower in his mouth and passed out."

Eugene nearly fell off the couch. "What?" His voice was high pitched. So his flower had been missing this morning... because they'd taken it. "Why'd you-- why'd you think that was a good idea? How long have you been planning this? Was Luke in on this?" He was panting. Had Luke come to visit him just to nab that flower?

"N-no!" Joy flinched. "I-I'm sorry. You're right. This is the wrong time to talk about this. But we need your help with Luke."

Luke. Had put the flower in his mouth. "Oh. Oh no." There was absolutely no way Eugene was going to be able to hide the truth anymore. Eugene sighed, grimacing as his stomach shifted uncomfortably. "Okay... okay. It's-- his ghost is out of his body. But he should be okay. Not sure why he would have left instead of finding a way to communicate with you."

Joy blinked. "You're serious. It really is ghosts."

Eugene groaned. "I didn't want to tell you. You were better off not having to worry about it! Why did you have to butt in on my secrets like this?"

Joy glared. "Hey, it's not our fault you decided to keep us out of all this. Why did you even feel the need to keep it hush hush? How would just knowing ghosts exist hurt us?"

"I mean," Oliver leaned over to Joy and whispered, "You're really fine with all this? You're not going to have an existential crisis about your worldview being shattered?"

"No!" Joy spluttered (even though she absolutely would have an existential crisis as soon as she took the time to actually think about it).

Oliver turned back to Eugene. "You're right. It's completely our fault that Luke is in a predicament right now. We shouldn't have messed with your stuff. And we're sorry." He glanced at Joy doubtfully, and she looked back defiantly before sagging, then nodding in agreement.

Eugene drooped, sinking back into the couch. "...Okay. Whatever. I guess I'll have to see if I can check on him."

Eugene braced himself, then reached into the pocket and pulled out his guardian flower again. Joy and Oliver watched as he laboriously placed it in his mouth, then let himself sink into the couch and fall asleep.

It happened fast, and Eugene sat up as a ghost as his body went limp beneath him. Eugene flinched as the pain in his chest flared up again, and he made the mistake of glancing at it before holding it with his hand and standing up again.

An F-bomb ripped through the room, and Eugene jerked to attention, looking for who had said that. His eyes found Luke, ghost-monochrome in orange, with his hands covering his mouth in horror.

"Oh," Eugene mouthed, using both hands to try to cover as much of his tattered chest as he could.

"Eugene?" Luke stepped up to him, hands hovering towards Eugene's wounds. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, I--" Eugene tried to take a step back, but he felt weak and dizzy, and Luke had to steady him to keep him from falling over.

"H... hi," Eugene mustered when he caught his breath. "Yeah, it's, um, not good."

"Yeesh, dude." Luke helped Eugene back over to the couch. "Do you need a bandage or something? Ghost bandage? Do those exist?"

"Don't think so," Eugene gasped. "It hurts, but I don't think it'll be lethal, 'cause I'm still in one piece."

Luke frowned in worry at Eugene's wound for a minute, watching dark magenta blood clot. He pulled off his shirt and moved Eugene's hands so he could hold it over his wound. "So, I was listening to the conversation you were having with Oliver and Joy. I'm fine, just can't get back to my body right now for some reason, but there are other things to worry about probably sooner."

"'Kay..." Eugene blinked blearily at Luke's hands holding the shirt to his chest.

"Yeah, so, your friend Charlie? She got attacked by this huge tall black ghost a bit ago, and we ran and hid here. The big monster ghost followed us, and when you and Joy and Oliver and Linda (that's her name, right?) opened the door it burst in."

Eugene blinked, his mind starting to register that that was really bad. And-- Oh yeah, he'd told that ghost that Charlie was here. So it was his fault. "Oh," he said. "Where's it now?"

"Yeah, so it grabbed her again and then flew away fast."

"No..." Eugene whispered, ducking his head, wanting to curl in on himself but not being able to 'cause he was bleeding all over Luke's shirt and hands for being a stupid, stupid idiot, who kept making the wrong decisions, who kept hurting the people he should've been helping. He'd told that ghost where Charlie was, then after leading it right to her had let it into the flower shop himself (or at least people with him had). And what could he even do to help her now? He was injured and useless.

"Eugene? Hey, snap out of it!" Luke tapped his shoulder insistently. "Come on, hey, we'll figure this out. She needs to be rescued, right? Is there any way we can rescue her?"

Eugene stared at the floor. Then he sighed. "I need your help."

Chapter 7

[orizukuin]

Yay, it's done ! ! !

A very Short comic with Charlie n Mike (I never really thought I'll finished this,lmao XD)

[lilvivix]

[kiyuu-draws]

*gibs you coin*

:3

Answer Sketchturday

No Transformers or Wavewave content atm bcuz... No idea... So... I'm gonna answer old stuff on my ask box

Ik you're a big a fan of Mike... But... Ehe... This is How I see him

Boy... It's been a while since I posted other than Transformers xD

[iwanttokmstbh]

They kinda cute tbh, my headcannon btw

[susie-dreemurr]

(Taken from discord. My memory is a bit foggy on the game so if I make mistakes here sorry lol)

For me it’s because of how much they seem like a twisted mirror of, in a way, what Luke and Eugene could have been if they ended badly like (Mike and Charlie respectively)

Charlie did genuinely like him, but their self loathing stopped them from both venting (feel as if he has it worse and their feelings aren’t valid bc of it) and truly accepting him in as a friend, even with a little resentment at how positive and nice Mike was.

And after “confirmation” that Mike thinks of them as strange/off-putting like the others, they leave the party. And when Mike tried apologizing, they try to push him away instead of talking things through as well. Slash slash.

Before the Office, Eugene had stopped himself from truly making friendships because he was full of fear, thinking of himself as a coward and, therefore, missing out on a lot. But he manages to rise over it, and is able to be brave when he needs to, thanks to the Office’s support.

Charlie never had an “Office,” back then. They’ve had the opposite of support for their entire life. Aside of Mike, they were alone, and they were never really open with him. Plus, what happened was very drastic. So they ran away. And then they died, without ever getting to see or apologize to him again.

Mike seems to have understood it was genuinely an accident, due to how he insisted in paying for the hospital bill himself and how he defended them. He might have been hoping to let them know he didn’t hate them for what they did. But well, by the time he got better, it was far too late. He never got to see them again. The last memory he has with weird little sad friend is of hurting their feelings and then (accidentally) slashing their face.

They didn’t get to talk. They never got closure :(

[ghostt-writerr]

The Rest of The Office Chapter 1 (UWO Fanfic)

The sound of snipping scissors echoed throughout the empty subway station. It was dark outside, midnight was only a few minutes away. The pale moonlight slipped its way through the window ajar above the doorframe of the Underworld Office. Near the desk sat an aggressive and sassy young lady, or young ghost for that matter. The ghost was full of shadows, the only presence of light was her slitted eyes, her black pupils focusing on the paper in her hands. Charlie crafted the paper into various different shapes, the sharp scissors cutting smoothly through the purple sheet of paper.

Snippets of paper were left scattered on the floor as the spirit held out the paper doll in triumph. The paper resembled a once familiar face to Charlie, though she constantly told herself she didn't want to remember him (or truly anyone else in her mortal life) she found comfort in his face. In the way his nose curved, in the way his hair was gently swooped up at the ends.

Tensing herself, Charlie made one final detail to the craft. She gripped her scissors in hand and snipped the upper part of his face. The cut resembled the scar Charlie had once inflicted on her only true friend, the reason she was sitting alone in the cold office late at night. "I'm sorry, Mike," Charlie whispered as she clung the paper tight in her arms, almost ripping it.

Suddenly there was a sound of a bell jingling and the flights being flicked on.

Charlie's blood ran cold as she scrabbled about trying to hide the piece of paper. The doll slipped from Charlie's fingers and landed softly on the tiled ground.

"Hey Charlie. Sorry I'm late, I was-" Eugene began rambling as he flung the door open. Charlie stomped on the paper, putting her hand on her chin as if she were listening.

Eugene was a kind young man, working at the office as the only mortal since he was merely 15. Since everyone else had either passed on or been sealed, Eugene and Charlie were the only ones left.

Now there was Boss, or maybe so. No one really knows where he went, wether he passed on or if he's mindlessly wandering the underworld.

Though sometimes the two feel a strange presence. Eugene always says it's Boss or one of the other workers checking up on them.

But that's stupid

"Now the-" Eugene paused. He looked down below Charlie's foot and at the piece of paper that was uncovered.

"What's that?"

"Oh it's nothing-" but it was too late. Eugene dropped to the floor and yanked the paper from beneath Charlie's foot, which caused her to spin around off balanced in the rotating chair.

"Wow your really good," Eugene complimented, peering at the paper art at different angles.

Charlie felt flustered and stamered a quick thank you under her breath. "Now who's this?" Charlie's eyes shot open in surprise at the question. "Oh I know! It's that friend you told us about from your life, right?" Though Eugene's intentions were harmless, Charlie reached her hand forward to grab the craft out of his hand.

Eugene moved it out of her reach and continued, "Miguel? Milo? Mi-Mike! Oh? Mike was his name, was it not?"

Charlie's blood boiled. "Eugene stop."

"You always spoke so fondly of him,"

Charlie gritted her teeth. "Stop talking about him"

Eugene didn't hear. "Though you never told us why you two stopped-"

"SHUT UP!"

*Snip*

Eugene let out a yell as he dropped the paper to the floor.

Charlie covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide with fear.

Eugene covered his cheek with his palms and winced.

Charlie dropped her scissors at once and ran over to Eugene.

((Not again, not again))

"Eugene are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Let me help you"

"I didn't mean to I swear,"

All of those were on the tip of Charlie's tongue, but instead of saying any words of reassurance

Charlie ran

[mxreal-churr0s]

uh… hi! you can call me Mike. i’m close buddies to @xdinaryh3roess !

as seen, im very interested in Charlie in Underworld & Underworld Office! i do like Not Exactly a Hero too.

I’m pansexual, happily dating @xdinaryh3roess . He/Him pronouns!

i’m an artist! i draw fanart of fandoms i love. as does @xdinaryh3roess .

there isnt much about me…

but, hey! if you’re curious, my comfort character in CIU is Mike, obviously. I do love Charlie too though! in UWO, comfort is Luke, do love Eugene too. …NEAH is probably Zoe? or.. Riley, maybe? not much to choose from!

you’re always able to ask me questions!!

-Mike

[masquerain-with-a-mask]

If u still up for cuw asks, what are your thoughts on mike & charlie

i am always up for cuw or uwo asks

if i gave you a short and slightly funny answer it would be that they're eugene and luke gone wrong

a slightly longer answer would be that they both deserved SO MUCH BETTER

you already know what i think of charlie thanks to my rambling in this post but like, mike genuinely seemed like a good guy and i think that staying all alone all the time wasn't good for charlie like, at all

but yeah instead of a cute friendship we ended up with canon :( /pos

anyway i love them

[sdxstudio]

Have more Vanny and Patrice, just being happy. Vanessa is happy and confident one, Patrice is shy but cute. Just look at them. So happy. Thanks to Michael, they are together. Thank you, Mike. [It’s AU Vanny] uwo

[Credit to Scott Cawton]

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office, chapter 7

AO3

Chapter 6

"Who's gonna be the one to explain to Linda why all three of her guests are now senseless on the couch?" Oliver asked.

He and Joy were now standing as spirits several feet from each of their bodies. While Oliver was glad to see that Luke was okay(ish), and the colors were fun (Joy was a pretty shade of blue, and Oliver was green), things were happening fast, and there were a lot of parts of the situation that still needed to be worried about.

"Please don't tell her the truth about it all," Sean asked, blowing on his fingers after making two extra guardian flowers in a row. "It was hard for her to find closure after I died, and I don't want her having to worry about me still being around."

Joy raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you and Eugene are friends... uh, fine. Okay. We'll come up with a lie of some kind. Eugene might have to be the one to tell her though. Eugene? Do you think you could tell her we had a long day or something and were super tired?"

Eugene was curled up on the couch, half in his body. "Uhuh," he wheezed, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Oliver turned back to Luke. "Okay, so. Evil ghost monster kidnapped a ghost friend and now we have to go save her."

"Because if we don't, Eugene will try to, which in his current state would be really dumb and end badly," Joy added.

Eugene grumbled something from the couch.

"You can't just go after that thing unarmed," Sean said nervously. "Eugene, did you happen to bring any of the Office's ghost artifacts?"

Eugene wordlessly dug in his pockets and pulled out a black fan, a lock of dark hair looped in a knot, and a cloth hat of some kind.

Sean floated over and took them from him. "Thanks, Eugene. We'll be sure to keep them safe. You can sleep now, if you want."

Eugene glared and stubbornly kept sitting upright.

"What are those?" Luke asked, walking over.

"Some ghosts (usually strong ones) have items from their life that gain power after they die. They can do a number of things," Sean explained. "This fan can seal hostile ghosts in it and also be used as a weapon in a pinch. The hair can be used to trap and entangle ghosts, or fling them, if you want. This hat lets you talk to cats. Not sure how useful that'll be, but we have it."

Oliver blinked. "Wait... what about a crucifix? A crucifix with the power to ward ghosts?"

Sean tilted his head. "I mean, I guess that's an example of an artifact somebody could have."

Oliver put his hands out. "You guys. My grandmother's crucifix. She loved that thing. Luke got yeeted out of his body by my grandmother's magic ghost-warding crucifix."

"Oh yeah," Joy said, pressing her lips together. "That, or any number of the other anti-ghost things you brought."

"Oh, uh, oops." Oliver smiled apologetically at Luke.

Luke waved his comment off. "It's fine, you didn't know. Could that crucifix maybe be useful for fighting the monster, though?"

"Er, seems like it would be a problem that we can't get to it in ghost form," Oliver said. "And then in human form we wouldn't be able to see the monster."

"Good point," Joy said.

Luke took the fan. "So the plan is to seal the ghost in here at the end?"

Joy took the lock of hair. "But first we have to weaken it and make sure we get Charlie out of there safely."

Oliver took the hat. "...With cats?"

Sean shrugged. "I guess? Joan's gun probably would've been more useful." Oliver whispered ghost gun under his breath as Sean turned to Eugene and asked, "Eugene? You didn't happen to bring Joan's cane too, did you?"

Eugene blinked, looking barely awake. "Uh... no, it didn't feel right with her in it."

"Oh, okay," Sean said. Why is she in the ghost gun Oliver whispered under his breath, and no one deigned to answer.

The four of them started heading towards the staircase down to the front door. Eugene started to push himself up to follow them, but Sean gently pushed him back down.

The four of them walked to the front door, and Luke tentatively pushed it open. "Oh, huh. Somehow I thought the ghost we're chasing would be easy to see from here?"

"Drat. How are we supposed to find it now?" Joy grimaced.

Oliver grinned, pulling the hat onto his head. "Cats."

...

Charlie's house was old and creaky, full of dust, like no one had lived in it for a long time. Her father's ancestors had lived in this house for generations, and with each of them that died inside of it, more of the house died as well.

Quite a few pieces of Charlie had died here too. She remembered the day her father had torn up her first paper doll because he'd caught her playing with it instead of studying for a test. She remembered the day her cat had gone missing, and the day a week later when she'd found its body rotting in a shallow grave with a gunshot wound in its side. She didn't remember the first day she saw her father hitting her mother, but she remembered the first day he'd hit her.

She vaguely remembered a time when she'd been young and hopeful. When she had rose-tinted dreams for the future. When she'd been happy. But those parts of herself had died, and their unreachable memory haunted the manor along with all the other ghosts.

There were many rooms in the house, but the older Charlie got, the fewer of them she ever went in, until in her last year she only traveled through the few that lead in a direct path from her bedroom, to the kitchen, to the front door.

Now she was in her bedroom again, wondering why she'd killed her father.

She knew why, of course. She'd... resented him for a while. "Hated him", she would've said, but somehow that didn't quite fit, even though she felt like she ought to hate him, deserved to. If she truly hated him, Would she have felt so guilty for having killed him? But now she felt ashamed. Her hands were covered in blood; it wasn’t wet anymore, but she couldn’t wash it off. It would be with her forever.

However long her route through the house usually was, it was now very short. She was grounded, never to leave the house, never to leave her room.

She was so alone, but it was what she deserved.

“Charlie?” a voice called, and she flinched before realizing it wasn’t her father’s voice. Not her mother’s either.

Charlie looked up toward her bedroom window (no light came through it). Mike was there, peeking in at her. “Could you let me in?” he asked, tapping the glass.

Charlie hesitated, not wanting to involve him, but eventually decided to go ahead and listen to him for once. She stood from her bed, then reached up and unlatched the window.

Mike pushed it open and climbed inside the room with her. He grinned. “It’s really you! It’s great to see you again, finally.”

Charlie felt confused for a minute. Somehow she felt like they hadn’t seen each other for years, but he hadn’t aged. He looked exactly the same as when she’d last seen him. Except…

“What are you doing here?” Mike asked, walking around. “Is this your bedroom? From when we were kids?”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said.

“I thought your dad was… um… not around anymore?”

“He came back to haunt me,” Charlie said blankly, dropping back down onto her bed. “To make me face what I did. To give me what I deserve.”

“What did you do?” Mike said, sitting down beside her.

Charlie’s head sunk. “You know what I did.”

“No, I don’t. Are you talking about this?”

Charlie looked up, and Mike was pointing at the scar over his eye.

She glared at him, tearing up. “Of course, I should’ve known. Are you here to haunt me too?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m not mad. Well, I might’ve been, a little, when it first happened. But it’s been years. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

Mike was older than Charlie was. He’d kept on growing while she stayed the same. He looked like he might be somewhere in his twenties now, and the gash over his eye was long-scarred over, fully healed. But she was still in her worst year of high school, wearing her rumpled uniform with dotted with unwashed blood.

Charlie let her head drop. “You’re an idiot. I can’t move on. I can’t forget it. I can’t ignore it. I can’t keep it secret. I tried to move on and be better, but I can’t stop messing up and hurting people. Eugene’s ghost friends are all gone ‘cause I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut, ‘cause I couldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. And my past has caught up to me too, ‘cause it knows I don’t deserve to have people around me who don’t know what I did.”

“Oh, come on.” Mike folded his arms. “If running away from it is such a bad idea, then say it out loud. What did you do?”

Charlie snapped at him. “I murdered my father!”

Mike flinched, but he didn’t look surprised. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Charlie sagged. “Why’d you make me say it?”

“Why’d you do it?” Mike countered.

Charlie glared at him, then looked back down. “I was angry. And… scared.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That checks out. So do you regret it?”

The room was silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” Charlie responded.

“I think you do,” Mike said, “if it’s been a decade, and you’re still beating yourself up over it.”

“So that’s it then,” Charlie said, resigned. “I deserve this. I am a monster.”

“Ugh, no you don’t. That’s not what I was saying.” He gave her shoulder a little shake. “Look up at me, Charlie-Charlie.”

She did.

“Yeah, he did a bad thing. A really bad thing. But you were, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Teens mess up sometimes. I sure know I did, though thankfully not so bad anyone’s dead about it. And also I know you were having a rough home life, and it was kind of obvious you had some mental health issues. Yeah, you messed up, but you wouldn’t do it again. I’ve moved on, your dad’s moved on, so should you.”

Charlie looked up at him incredulously. “My dad hasn’t moved on. Don’t you know where we are?”

“No? Oh wait.” Mike blinked as the gears turned in his head. “Oh, was that big lanky ghost thing your dad? I thought it was you, or, some manifestation of your self-hatred, I guess?” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m honestly a little confused. No one really explained to me what’s going on.”

Charlie stared at him. “Are you the real Mike?”

“Yeah…?”

Charlie dropped her head into her hands, muttering a muffled swear. “I can’t believe I said all that stuff to you. I thought I was just having a heart-to-heart with a dream Mike, from my subconscious or something.”

Mike cackled at her, and she wanted to punch him (affectionately). “That’s so dramatic!”

Charlie glared at him. “Well how did you get here?” she snapped, like she was accusing him of something.

“Well okay, so get this.” Mike splayed his hands out like he was ready to drop a bombshell piece of gossip. “Couple days ago I had this dream where a tall asian-looking dude told me to find ‘Eugene’ at Station 00 and he’d help me talk to you. And I thought, yo, that’s so specific, and I could remember it super clearly when I woke up. So I went and did it, ‘cause I thought it would be funny if something cool actually was there, and also it was a good excuse to go exploring. But there was a guy named Eugene there! Crazy!”

“Ah. Okay then.” Charlie didn’t know how to feel about Boss still messing around near them. Eugene might be happy to hear that? Or not?

“No there’s more. I had another dream today! I mean, it wasn’t really a dream ‘cause it kind of just happened while I was walking along, super weird, I kind of thought I was hallucinating. Maybe I was. I sure hope I’m not crazy. But anyway he told me to go over here, so I did.” Mike stared off into the distance for a second, like he was finally realizing how insane he sounded. “Please believe me.”

“Hey no, I believe you. I know the guy. Weirdo.”

“Okay. Cool.” Mike stood up. “So we’re in your dad’s ghost’s nightmare dimension or something? We should probably get out. Forget what I said about him moving on. Because I still think you should move on. And him too. Talk about holding a grudge. So! Let’s go.”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said dismally.

“Oh, come on! Now you start listening to your dad?” Mike pumped a fist. “The only one grounding you is yourself!”

Mike grabbed Charlie’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “Come on!”

“Ack! My dad’ll catch us! Can't we just climb out the window?"

“The window actually doesn't lead outside, just to another room of the house, for some reason. We’ll be sneaky! We just need to get out of your house and we’re home free! Probably. I still don’t know how ghost things work.”

Charlie winced. "Okay. We'll try. But if he catches us, you run. I don't want to see you hurt."

...

When they found the ghost monster that'd made off with Charlie, it was hunched over against a wall, like it was meditating. Charlie was not in sight.

"It's sleeping?" Oliver asked. "Do we just suck it up into the fan now?"

Sean waved his hands anxiously. "Wait, no, I don't think that's a good idea. It ran off with Charlie, right? It might have her in its dream."

"Dream?" Luke asked.

"Yeah. Ghosts can go into people's dreams. Or memories. Either way, we can't contain that ghost until we've gotten Charlie safely out." Sean chuckled nervously. "Or, until you guys've gotten her out. I don't know how much help I'd be."

Joy cringed. "We really don't know what we're getting into, and I'm thinking we might need all the help we can get. Plus, the three of us don't know what we're doing. Come with us. Please?"

Sean sagged. "Okay, okay. I'll come."

...

Charlie and Mike rounded another corner, and Charlie felt a growing knot in her stomach tighten. "Something's wrong. I don't remember this many hallways existing before," she whispered.

"Oh, okay. Uhh, maybe we should just keep wandering, hope we find the way out?" Mike whispered back.

"I don't like this," Charlie said. "This is his dream. We'll probably take way longer to find an exit than he'll take to find us."

"Well, if he finds us we run." Mike shrugged. "Simple as that."

"And we'll split up," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes. "So he chases me, not you."

"Sure, sure. I'll run... somewhere. Whatever."

"Ugh, you." Charlie scoffed.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in the dining room. Despite it being next to the kitchen, Charlie hardly ever ate there. The paintings she vaguely remembered being hung on the walls were gone, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"I wonder if there's some kind of clue as to where we should go?" Mike muttered.

Charlie walked around the table, looking at the different doorways they could take. The kitchen she knew was not through any of them. She paused for a second to shake some kind of debris from the carpet off of her foot.

Wait.

Charlie looked down and saw that that debris... was paper. Shreds of colored paper, intricately patterned. She recognized them as being the remains of paper dolls, though couldn't identify which ones. She could see on each shred of paper the clean and deliberate edge where she cut with her scissors, as well as the ragged edges where the dolls were torn apart.

"Mike," she whispered. "Come over here."

Mike came over, and Charlie pointed out the paper. "It's a trail. It leads this way."

"Those remind me of the paper dolls I used to see you making in class. Is that a good sign? Should we follow it?"

Charlie frowned. "It might also be a trail of destruction left by my father's ghost."

"It's our only lead, but... what do you think?"

"I want to follow it," Charlie said with a conviction that surprised her. "Wherever it leads, I want to get there. I want to reach an end."

"Well! That was a really ominous way of saying that. But okay," Mike nodded. "Let's follow the trail."

The two of them headed off, following the trail of shredded paper. Charlie kept her gaze pointing down at the trail as they passed through halls that looked almost the same, rooms that each seemed like several rooms Charlie remembered, yet also neither and none, all missing paintings on the walls, or else housing empty frames, which were equally disconcerting. Charlie started to wonder if the trail had really started in the dining room, or if she'd missed something, and that maybe they were following the trail the wrong way.

The trail came to an end just before a door Charlie knew all too well. The only one besides her bedroom door which she and Mike had found closed. The door to her father's study.

"Why'd we stop?" Mike whispered.

Charlie's hand moved forward, driven by something akin to curiosity, to purpose, laced with dread. She gripped the handle and turned the door. It slowly swung open with a creak that grew louder as it opened wider, before the door finally dropped softly off of its hinges.

The body in the middle of the floor looked old, as did the rest of the room. It was nothing but a skeleton, all its flesh having worn off, with no memory of it but the strange stains weighing down the crusty clothes hanging over that figure. A large splotch of the rug below it was stained a dull brown.

"Charlie?" Mike asked. "What are you looking at?"

Charlie blinked, and the illusion was gone. She was still holding the door handle, unopened.

She let go of the handle and stepped back. "I can't do it."

"I'll get it," Mike said. He took the handle and pulled the door open.

The office was empty. And behind Charlie's father's imposing desk, letting in a stream of cold moonlight, was a large window.

"An escape!" Mike cried, rushing towards the window to undo the latch and pull it open. Cold air puffed into the room. "Charlie-Charlie, come on!"

"Coming, coming," she said, taking one last glance over her shoulder.

Then she froze.

The door had swung closed behind her, and on the back of it was hung a portrait of her father.

"Trying to run away again, Charlie?" the picture said.

Charlie whirled around and vaulted out the window, landing in a run through the snowy ground.

Mike broke into a run beside her. "What's wrong?"

"My father! He's there!"

She took a glance over her shoulder and saw him slowly walking towards her, but gaining on her as though she wasn't moving at all. He looked just as he had been when he was alive, yet as horrible as when he was dead.

Mike slid to a stop and started pitching snowballs at him. "Take that! Ha! Leave her alone!"

Charlie whirled around. "Mike, no!"

Charlie's father came up to Mike, and his hand snapped out, gripping Mike's neck. Mike scrabbled uselessly at the man's hand as he picked him up like he weighed nothing.

"Let him go!" Charlie screamed, swinging a punch at her father's face.

But her scissors were in her hand.

She froze in terror, blade held inches from her father's face, as images of what she'd done to Mike flashed through her head.

Her father chuckled, making no move to stop her. "So you still want to kill me, do you? Well I'll never be dead. I'll haunt you forever. You think you hate me? Imagine how much I hate you. You horrible girl, you ruined everything. Kill me again and see if it makes you feel better! You'll never be free."

Charlie let loose a rage-filled scream and brought her scissors stabbing down on the arm holding onto Mike's neck.

Charlie's father let out a surprised gasp, letting Mike drop to the ground. Mike tried to lunge toward Charlie's father, but Charlie grabbed him and shoved him away. "I told you to RUN!"

Charlie's father slammed into her from the side, shoving her to the ground. Her face was pushed against the snow, and she inhaled it when she tried to breathe and started coughing.

She struggled against her father, but it was like trying to wrestle the sand. She couldn't budge him. He shoved her face down into the snow again and she tried to stay calm and hold her breath. She heard Mike yell and try to shove her father off of her, but she heard him get thrown aside with a deep thud into the snow.

"Got you!" Someone yelled, and Charlie felt the weight on her lift, then be abruptly yanked off of her to the side.

She shoved up off of the ground and gulped in oxygen, then searched around for Mike. He was there, just a few feet away, also pushing up from the snow. He looked dazed, but unhurt.

Charlie looked back towards her saviors and saw Eugene's friends, along with Sean. Joy was roughly slamming Charlie's father up and down onto the snow by the ends of what looked like River's hair. After a minute he lay still on the ground, Luke pulled out Boss' fan, snapped it open, and Charlie's father was sucked in.

Charlie sagged, dropping to the snow in exhaustion, as the cold world faded around her to be replaced with real life. That was it. She was so tired...

...

It was a few days later, and Eugene and Luke, Joy, and Oliver were working together to sweep up broken glass from the office at Station 00. Eugene's station boss had called him out to help with it (Eugene was grateful for any number of work hours after sudden week of unpaid vacation), and his three friends had volunteered to come along and help, to make sure he didn't push himself too hard while still recovering from his ghostly injuries.

Luke picked up a large piece of glass and threw it into a bin. "Did Charlie tell you about how the ghost that kidnapped her was her father, who she'd killed as a teen?"

"Yeah," Eugene said. He was taking a breather at the moment, sitting on a beat-up chair. "Though I already knew beforehand."

"That's messed up," Oliver said, shaking his head as he swept.

"Yeah, it is," Eugene said, resting his chin on his knee. "I'm tired of trying to be hard on people for bad things they've done though. She regrets it, she's doing better. That's enough for me. Turns out a lot of people are less perfect than you'd hope they'd be."

Joy rested her chin on her broom to give Eugene a pointed look. "Does that include not being hard on yourself?"

Eugene sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry. I know I was stupid, I shouldn't have been trying to do everything on my own."

"We can help if you need us," Luke said. "We might not work at the station with you, but now that we're in on your secret, we can help out with ghost stuff."

Eugene frowned. "I'm still kind of peeved you guys went behind my back about that."

Joy put her hands up. "I get it! I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore, I've learned my lesson. Yes. It's my fault, that was invasive and not okay and we should've just talked to you." She rolled her eyes.

Eugene had the feeling she didn't completely regret it, but he was going to let it go. "I appreciate this."

"No problem," said Oliver. "I'm an expert at cleanup stuff."

"I mean..." Eugene looked down sheepishly. "Thanks for. Making sure I didn't get myself killed. For being my friends. And... sticking with me even if it's weird and I wasn't great at being open with you."

Luke walked over and threw a hand around Eugene's shoulders. "Dude, it's cool. Generally speaking, you have a right to your secrets, so long as they're not hurting you. But like you said, nobody's perfect. We still love you."

Eugene smiled, giving Luke a hug back. "Thanks."

...

Charlie stared at the headstone. Her full name was written out on it, her birth date, and the date of her death. A small note about her being a daughter and a friend.

She turned to look at Mike, who was hovering beside her in ghost form. "How did you know I didn't know where my gravestone was?"

Mike chuckled. "I didn't, not really. But I wanted to make sure you knew that you weren't forgotten. I visit it sometimes, like on your birthday. Your mom does too, by the way. She's still around, and she remembers you fondly."

"Wow," Charlie said disbelievingly. "Don't know how she manages that."

Mike punched her in the arm. "C'mon Charlie-Charlie, you gotta stop getting down on yourself."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done." She knelt down beside the tombstone. "It's kind of plain... not sure what I really expected. I didn't think too much about what it might be like. I think I kind of assumed there just wasn't one."

"It's been there this whole time," Mike said softly. "Well... at least you know about it now."

Charlie stood up again and looked at Mike. "Uh..." She rubbed her arm awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to end the interaction. "Thanks. I guess. This was cool of you. Sorry everybody was out of office and it was so hard for you to find me."

"It really wasn't that bad," Mike said. "I'm glad I was here to help when, uh... all that stuff went down."

Charlie slapped her forehead. "I'm so embarrassed."

Mike shrugged, looking amused. "Eh. We all have our cringe moments. You make fun of me for tripping on my shoelaces that one time, I can make fun of you for..." Charlie gave him a death glare, "...actually I'll probably just try not to bring this up."

Charlie looked away. "Well. Nice seeing you again. I guess this is goodbye."

"Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be. I only live like thirty minutes away," Mike said, thumb-pointing vaguely behind himself.

Charlie stared at him.

"What?" Mike asked. "You don't want to be friends with me anymore?"

"No! I mean, I do!" Charlie sighed. "I can't believe this is happening. Don't you want to move on from me? I'm dead."

"Er." Mike held up his hands helplessly. "I mean, from what I understand, you'll only be gone-gone for real once you get over all your angst and pass onto the next life, right? So we can totally still be friends until then."

Charlie looked him over. She still didn't completely believe he was real. The past had haunted her for so long, it seemed weird for something good to finally come out of it, for a friend to come back to her from the worst time of her life.

She spoke softly. "You're really not mad at me?"

"I'm really not."

Charlie relaxed. She smiled. Eugene wasn't mad at her after finding out the truth. Mike wasn't mad at her either. Maybe if they believed she could be better... she really could be. "Okay. Yeah." She looked back up at him. "I guess I'll see you around."

Mike grinned. "Count on it."

[orizukuin]

This one took forever to do- but overall I'm honestly happy for it's outcome :>

I did say we'll be starting with the Q&A once I upload the Character sheet in my style- (? At this time I'm still not sure if it's acceptable to call this one as a Character sheet- I tried my best...)

----- :

The Q&A is just for funsies/entertainment. ( Have a question for Charlie and Mike? Ask anyways! I'm sure they'll answer )

Please do keep in mind that the Character's surname is just an Headcanon of mine since they don't got a canon surnames. I search in the web for Korean surnames since the game was created by Korean Artists and Writers. Then landed with "Hyung-Seok" (for Charlie) and "Choi" (For Mike)

Charlie's personality is pretty much like in the game but with a side of candy sprinkles. Instead of avoidant,distancing themselves and pushing people away. Charlie's slowly opening themselves up and accepting to appreciate the little things that comes in their way. (Which sometimes make them feel weird since it's like a new feeling.)

We know very little of Mike's information in the game but we can see enough how understanding and caring he is. I think He got that light and warm energy around him that make others think instantly that Mike is a person that's a friend to everyone.

-----

I don't own the characters, both characters were belong to Miltteok, Jiwoo, Team_344 and the people that worked behind the production/foundation of UWO/CIU

!!! : if you have played the game, I suggest you to try and check it out :DD !!!

((→ feel free to save/use for Reference purposes ONLY))

[lilvivix]

The answer to the question.

[kiyuu-draws]

Throwback Thursday 😭 anyway another old drawing from 2k22

Who want to get invited? >:) the server is still alive and kicking

PS: I'm just a member but surely bossu (Sticku)icku wouldn't mind :D

[esuerc]

i love your artstyle! i've never really seen something like it before, especially in the way you draw UT characters. in conclusion: it good

UwO huehuehue, thank you! I take a lot of inspiration from artists like Frazetta, Brom, Carlos D'Anda, Derrick J Wyatt, Bluth, Paul Dini, Mike Zulli, Loish, etc, etc--

I could keep going, but there's some of the few that have really influenced me over the years, especially with their pencil and ink works!

Now, I've gotta train on how to paint digitally better!

But really, my stuff starts... Basic?

Like, here's a base sketch. Just pencil and ink.

And the finished version, with ink and marker

I like taking characters that start out being "softer" and twisting them into something more macabre! It's a lot of fun to play with them!

I like the look of sharp angles and smooth lines--it gives a sketch life (to me, at least)!

[fanzonesports]

UWindsor Men's Basketball Shoot Way Into 3rd Round of Wilson Cup

UWindsor Men’s Basketball Shoot Way Into 3rd Round of Wilson Cup

(WINDSOR, ON) After knocking to handily sweeping aside the Waterloo Warriors 101-89 in the first round of the playoffs Weds, the Lancers also knocked off 2nd place Western 89-72 early today. In doing so the Lancers will now face the winner of the first place Brock Badgers and Laurier Golden Hawks in the 2nd OUA West semi-final in progress this evening. Windsor already pulled off a surprised…