#glowball's ocs

[slushiecookie]

TW: Gore & Body Horror!

This is Strawberry Pillow, an experiment which escaped from Indome Labs due to a stupid employee leaving her chamber unlocked; it's less Strawberry Pillow, moreso the parasite inhabiting the pillow's body.

SP is very curious and tends to explore things, places, and other objects without any consent, and usually has to be carefully coaxed out of her interest before she ends up crushing a guy's skull to "see what the maximum withstandable pressure is". She speaks in a very "alien-like" way, usually calling objects "mere entrail containers" and using strange, literal combinations of words to get her (usually unnecessary) points across. (For example, she'd call milk "aging fluid", meat "flesh carvings", hands/fingers "flexible extremities" etc.)

"Normal" Form:

In order to disguise herself, Strawberry Pillow has created another form to use. This has worked pretty well, but due to her having no idea how her arms are supposed to work, they just kinda loosely flop around.

Strawberry Pillow's corners function like ears, they're bigger than a normal pilllow's and prick up when she senses prey, they also fold back when she's stalking as well.

Strawberry Pillow may look (and be) pretty strange and unpredictable, but she smells pretty good, strangely, like a strawberry cake. She uses this to attract prey like rodents or other objects.

Strawberry Pillow never frowns or becomes visually upset in either of her forms, so she's always seen with a half-smile. Don't be fooled, she can and does get very angry, and will definitely think of repeatedly bashing your head against the ground if you set her off.

She LOVES to eat Pilot, he's like gourmet food to her, and nobody knows why. The leading theory is that Pilot is simply lacking so many survival skills that he tastes better.

Strawberry Pillow has amateur sewing skills because of having to disguise herself, but she only keeps getting better...

[unmarked-credits]

Hey everyone, please to enjoy the following silly crap I wrote for @xinambercladx. This was her request for the Valentine's Day exchange on the Duros Hoes discord server. She wanted a story about Bane walking one of her OC's home. I chose Yenem - you remember this gal -

- and came up with this. Only seventeen days late! Go me!

Anyway, enjoy👍🏻Hope you like it @xinambercladx !

***

The Heirloom

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Yenem said. She looked annoyed as she adjusted her short, form-fitting glittery purple cocktail dress. A huge, fluffy white fur coat was slung over her forearm.

Cad Bane gestured for the coat, shifting a tooth pick from one corner of his mouth to the other. He took it by the shoulders and held it out for her to put on. 

"Oh! Why thank you," she said. She turned to slip it on, glancing back at him over her shoulder as she did so. "Is there a charge for this?"

He smirked. "Free w' de bodyguard package - if y'tell me how y' found out there's a bounty on ye before I did."

She sighed. "Sometimes when I am exceptionally bored, I run my name against the holonet. Turned up on the bounty boards," she said, retrieving her data pad from her purse. "And that reception was exceptionally boring."

He glanced through the picture window of the art gallery they stood before. Inside was a quite lively, quite crowded cocktail party.

"Doesn' look boring."

"Trust me, it was nothing but a room full of poseurs." She sighed and looked up at him, doe eyed, and took his arm. "Get me out of here, Bane."

"Yes ma'am," he said, tapping the brim of his hat. "Y'sure y'wanna go back to d'hotel? You'd be safer on my ship." 

"My things are at the hotel."

"Y' don need yer things."

"One of those things is what they're after."

"An' y' left it in yer room?"

"In the safe," she said.

"Hotel safes ain't safe."

"Was I supposed to go to the reception with an ancient vase beneath my arm like a glowball?"

He paused a moment, then shrugged. "I reckon it would have been less boring that way."

"Tch!"

"Tch yerself!" he said. "Come on,  den."

***

"I've never been to this part of Coruscant," she said as they strolled over a metal walkway overlooking a canyon of city lights. "Beautiful, in a way."

"This area's all right," he said. "It gets worse the deeper down y' go." 

"So I've heard."

"Dere's a real good tipyip stand couple blocks down."

"You want to stop for food?" she asked archly. "You seem pretty casual about this."

"Eh. De score on you is pretty small. We're not gon' be dealing wit any major players. Most of 'em will turn tail if de see you w' me."

"That's…reassuring."

"Dat's why you hired me."

"Indeed," she said, pressing close to him as they walked. 

He smiled slightly at this. "So tell me 'bout this hot vase y'got."

"It's not hot," she said. "I bought it perfectly legally at auction. But apparently it's a family hierloom and said family is desperate to get it back. I offered to sell it to them, and for only a slight profit. But they seem determined to obtain it by other means."

"So dey're gon' chase whoever has it?"

"I assume so."

"Hmm," he replied. "Well, you're makin' it easy for em in dat coat."

Yenem frowned. "What about my coat?"

"It's huge n' bright n' … foofy."

"Foofy?"

"Yeah," he said. "Y' look like a leggy wampa."

"Excuse me?"

"What?" he asked, smirking. "It's a compliment."

She balked. "Surely you can come up with a better compliment than that."

"Sure, sure," he said. He went silent for a moment as the walked past a well manicured hedge full of bright flowers that led up to the hotel. He picked one. 

"Yer the prettiest sheep I ever saw," he said, grinning, handing her the flower as they entered the hotel. 

"You're a terrible date," Yenem said, accepting the flower.

"I'm a great date," Bane said. "Y' wanna make dis a date, dat's a different pricin' structure."

"Oh?" she asked, intrigued. "What's the going rate for a date with Cad Bane?"

"Well, dat depends," he began, but stopped short, clocking something across the lobby. Yenem turned to follow his gaze. A human boy of about fourteen leaned wide-eyed against the lobby bar with an open clamshell full of tip-yip skewers. He looked startled to see Bane.

"Who is that?" Yenem asked.

"A little shit," Bane grumbled, gesturing the boy over. He scowled but obeyed.

"Boba!" Bane said as he approached. "What are y' doin here?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Dis job is kinda low rent for you, ain' it?"

"You're here," the boy shot back. 

"I ain' here for a bounty. I'm here to buy a vase from my lady friend."

Yenem turned to Bane in surprise.

"You're … buying a vase?" Boba asked skeptically.

"Sure am."

"Ohh," Yenem said, pulling her data pad from her purse, "Yes, he is. I'm drafting the bill of sale right now."

"Why do you need a vase?" Boba asked.

"Fer flowers."

"Since when do you have flowers and put them in vases?"

"You don't know my life," Bane replied haughtily.

Boba frowned. "Actually I do know your life, and -"

"Point bein -" Bane interjected, "is dat dis vase is now property of Cad Bane, and if de family yer workin' for wants to take it up wid me - and not her -" he said, gesturing to Yenem, "dey're more den welcome to. So you run along now an' you tell 'em dat." 

"Thumb print here," Yenem said, handing Bane the blank pad. He pressed his digit to the screen and handed it back to her. 

"See?" he said. "All mine.  Now get lost, Boba."

Tch," Boba said. "Whatever. Low paid job anyway. Later, Bane."

"Wait," Bane said.

"What?"

"Gimme one of those," Bane said, plucking a skewer from Boba's takeout box.

"Hey!"

"I said get lost," Bane repeated, shooing Boba away.

"Gimme my tip yip back!"

Bane tore a piece off the end of the skewer with his fang. "Fuck off, Boba," he said around the meat. " An' you tell de people yer workin' for -"

"Yeah yeah I'll tell 'em," Boba muttered. "Fierfek."

The boy stalked out of the hotel shaking his head.

"Well," Yenem said, bemused. "You made short work of that."

"Yep. Shouldn't be a problem for ye anymore."

"Elegantly handled."

Bane tapped the brim of his hat. "Whaddya say we head upstairs an' have a look at 'my' new vase?"

Yenem smiled slyly, pulling him towards the turbolift. "It's quite the piece," she said. "Has a naked lady on it."

"Y' don' say?" Bane grinned.  "I like it already." 

[kaiju-wolfdragon]

Free space drawing:

Glowball: hi there i'm glowball

[october-rosehip]

30 Day OC Challenge, Day 3: Inventory

Macsen shouldn't have been surprised.

They'd hurried all day, carrying their packs because it made no sense to make Bodahn run his pony cart back and forth between the Circle's docks and Redcliffe when he could fleece the Redcliffe citizenry for a few days, instead. (Macsen tried not to judge.)

Anyway, after stopping an undead uprising, discovering Jowan so badly hurt in the Arl's dungeons, drinking too many lyrium potions to deal with the constant drain on his magic, and now jogging, burdened, well into the evening to save time; Macsen felt badly prepared for doing much of anything useful. Nevertheless, he'd tried.

Paper was far too precious outside the Circle to waste it when he was too stupid from the lyrium, heartsick from everything, and exhausted from constant fighting to even spell his name correctly. He sighed, and wrapped his treasured notebooks in oilcloth. He placed them deep in his pack, surrounded by clothes. He should really just go to bed.

Macsen arranged his pack at the head of his bedroll as an improvised pillow. He stretched. His shoulders popped luxuriously. He looked over to ask if Zev still needed the light from the wisp.

Zevran leaned comfortably on one arm, regarding him.

Macsen blamed the tiredness for the fact that he hadn't felt Zevran staring. “Were you going to ask me something, Zev, or just watch me for the fun of seeing how long it took me to notice you?”

Zevran smiled. “Can I not do two things at once? Truly, I wondered what it was that you had been so studiously working on? You treat it much more carefully than you do the other notebook, which I supposed to be your journal.”

“My journal is pretty important. I've outlined my plan for the Blight in case anyone finds it who needs to... take over for me. Well, I've tried. We're sort of winging it ourselves. They'll get the gist as well as I could spell it out. But this is much more precious to me. I guess it would depend on your perspective.

“I was in trouble with the Revered Mother again. I always was. One time, she punished me by making me sort through a closet full of outdated books nobody had opened in decades, probably. In with the hymnals from the Blessed age and outdated alchemy textbooks, I found books of elvish lore. Many of them were in elvish! It took me forever to translate it. I speak it but never read it, til then. I'd never found anything more important in the library. I read them all over and over.”

Zevran's eyes widened the tiniest bit. “I can only imagine how that would feel! I suppose it might have felt like the spring monsoons falling in the desert?”

Macsen smiled at the poetic way of saying things. “If you mean my brain was thirsty, yes, just like that. I learned so much! My clan didn't have much time to teach me of elvhen things. The shemlen caught me when I was a tiny da'len. I'd take whatever I could get, now.”

“How many elves could consider such a thing a treasure? Many have had even less to do with things elvish.”

“I thought the same thing! So, I copied them all into my own hand. I made them look like diaries, then I hid them. The tower is- it's such a mess right now.” He paused to let the wave of grief crash over him a moment. It took his smile with it. “I am luckier than I deserve that they were where I left them, and unhurt. The books I put in front of them shielded them. Maybe the creators helped. I'm sure I was meant to bring this knowledge out of captor hands, to those who might not have it. I added to it, too. One of the books is every song or story or recipe or bit of craft I could get from the elves who came from the alienage raids. I can't deal with thinking that they might have been taken for nothing. What they went through is part of the elven story.”

Zevran “hmmm”ed and ran a finger over one of the strange metal studs in the unique belt he wore. “Some of these stories might be very important indeed, I would think? I do not suppose that...” The customarily confident man lost his footing. He usually looked directly into a person's eyes far more than Macsen was used to, but he looked away, now.

Macsen understood. “Do you want to read them?”

“Would you allow this? I understand if you have important plans for them, and there will be no hard feelings if not.”

“I do have plans. I meant to give the writings to my clan when I find them, but then I thought there should be more copies. It's not like Clan Surana are the only elves. So I started a second set. Anything there are two copies of, you can read without me staring over you. Actually, how's your handwriting?”

Zevran laughed. “Passable. I was not trained as a forger. Now there is some penmanship, eh?”

“Wow, I never thought of that before. Bet you're right.”

“But you... wish me to copy these for you?”

“With me. We can get them done faster that way.”

Macsen guessed he'd said something right, as Zevran shot him such a warm smile that it lit up something in Macsen's core as if someone had set a fire in the hearth.

Zevran sat up straight, evidently so he could use his hands more easily to talk. “I consider myself an Antivan first and foremost, yes? It is where I am from, and I share a culture and a history with all the other people of the land, do you see? But... my mother was Dalish. I have had little enough opportunity to learn of her or her people. She died during my birth. My first victim, as it were. So, she was not there to teach me, and who else was there to do it? I think it will be a good thing to remedy some of the gaps in my knowledge. But, if I may ask, Warden, why go to the trouble to copy everything? Why did you not take the originals? Surely, you do not think the Circle came by such things honestly?”

Macsen clenched his fists. “No. I suspect they came by them about as honestly as they came by me. Everything elvhen in that tower is stolen, I'm sure of it.”

“Then, my question stands. Why do you go to such trouble? Surely, you deserve those books more than those who did not even bother to read them?”

“Yes, I do. But I don't deserve them more than the next stolen child who might take comfort in them.”

Fang chose that moment to shove his giant doggy body through the tentflap, circle the foot of Macsen's bedroll three times, and flop immediately into contented, snoring, sleep.

“Yeah, you're right, boy,” said Macsen. He felt grateful for the massive dog hogging most of his space. He'd sleep warmer. It happened sometimes that others bribed Fang away for a night with whatever treats they could find.

Macsen looked over at Zevran. “I was going to ask before. I'm headed for sleep. Do you need the wisp for light anymore or can I send it home?”

“Haha! I am half tempted to stay up reading which is a very unusual thing for me to wish to do. But, morning will come too soon, will it not?”

“Yes, it will. Goodnight.” Macsen sent the little glowball home to the fade until the next time he should call.

They settled down to rest, but nobody's breathing changed. Fang stayed asleep, Zevran stayed awake, and Macsen's thoughts spun in circles.

“Zev?” he whispered, after a while.

“Yes, Warden?”

“Macsen. Keep trying, please. You know how the Circle is full of stolen elvhen things?”

“We spoke of this perhaps a half hour ago, yes? Alistair's shield did not crack my skull so badly as that.”

“Fair. I was just thinking about something the Circle's Quartermaster had for sale when I restocked before going in. He has a beautiful old leather belt. It's been really well cared for. The designs were elvhen, and looked like it honored Andruil, goddess of the hunt. He didn't have that before that I can recall. Maybe I'm being too harsh but it bothers me, you know? It looked so ancient, that I doubt any elf would have traded away something so historic. I think its old owner is dead, and this shemlen didn't even know what it is, really. I mean, I don't even know what it is. Someone's treasure is just in there with the potions. He wants like a hundred gold for it.”

“And this pains you?”

“Yeah, it does, very much.”

A moment passed before Zev continued. “I can understand this. I mentioned my mother, yes? I had her gloves. She was a whore in the city, working off her dead husband's debts, but she had kept that one token from her previous life. They were of traditional Dalish make, and beautiful. I treasured them, and kept them safe. When the Crows bought me, I had to keep them well hidden, for they do not allow such personal things. But, how could a child keep a secret in a house full of experts on secrecy?”

“So they found them?”

“Of course. How could they not? They were my only link to my history, but to my Master, were they any such thing?”

“No, I suppose they were just a broken rule, and a bit of coin.” Macsen rubbed the ironbark pendant that had been his mamae's.

“Just so. I suppose you know this dance?”

“I do.”

“Things like this... they are memories made solid, do you not think so?”

“That's exactly right. Oh, I'm sorry about your gloves, Zev.”

“Thank you, but it is in the past, no? And the morning is a fast approaching future.”

“True. Good night again, lethallin.”

“Buona notte.”

Macsen stared at the fabric above. Lethallin was a word for close friends; who shared a link. He hadn't thought about it before it was out of his mouth. It was true. They were the same. Macsen understood. The Circle had stolen him and kept him for itself, and he had thought it happened only to mages. But no. Zevran had also been stolen, for all he insisted he'd been paid for. It didn't sit well with Macsen. Who said the brothel had the authority to sell him? People could be owned whether they were mages or not, evidently, and possession was most of the law. Who'd argue for them when their own families didn't or couldn't stand up and say “no, this person belongs to us”? Macsen rubbed his face in tired frustration. There was nothing else for it. Their families hadn't been able to help, the Wardens were gone, the Crows were hopefully distant... who owned them now? They had be one-another's clan.

Macsen took too long getting to sleep, but the next day he felt decent, anyway. Maybe it was the lack of fighting on the road so far, he mused. Or maybe you found the energy you needed somehow. He always had.

They arrived at the Circle later that day. Macsen had no idea what to expect from the First Enchanter. It was a terrible, selfish risk coming back to the Circle for help with Connor's demon, but if Jowan killed someone- a noble!- with blood magic, he would die. Macsen could not stand that certainty.

Irving stood in the entry hall, surrounded by bloodstains in the stone, as though nothing at all were the matter. He agreed to help the possessed child, and even Greagoir said nothing about it. Maybe he realized they needed more mages, and more tranquil, immediately.

Irving invited them to stay while the mages prepared for travel and gathered the ingredients for the ritual, but Macsen had meant it when he'd said it- he would never spend another night on this island. They set off again even as the sun set.

Zevran appeared at Macsen's side several miles on from the docks. He held out a wrapped bundle.

“Hm? What is it, Zev?” Macsen felt a bit blurry round the edges. They had traveled too far, too fast.

“If you unwrap it, you will know, yes?”

Macsen did. A heavy, supple, well maintained leather belt, tooled intricately with elvhen symbols fell into his hands. “The blessings of Andruil fall upon me”, Macsen read before he fully grasped what was happening. It's even more beautiful up close, Macsen thought.

“Zev... you didn't... buy this, did you?” Macsen asked, stunned.

“Did I have a hundred gold on my person or in my things when you searched me?” Zevran laughed.

“No.... OH! Well that's all right, then.” Macsen handed it back to Zevran.

“No, I intended it for you, if you would like it. One thing the Circle has lost, for another.”

Several things happened at once. Macsen felt his face light up like a rod of fire and he found he'd turned to Zev without any conscious decision on his part, and kissed him. They were still kissing, and Macsen had no idea how that had even begun but Zev's hands felt right on his waist and...

A giggle sounded from behind them.

Dammit, Leliana.

But the world returned. It had to, once brought to mind.

And then Macsen's stomach fell.

He learned slowly, at times, but he did learn. In the Circle, Macsen had always said yes, when asked. He didn't know until later that he couldn't have said no. A yes meant nothing from someone whose no meant nothing.

I am your man, without reservation.

Zevran had offered “bedwarming” as a service provided with his vow. His no meant nothing. So his yes, the yes Macsen felt on his lips at that very moment, meant nothing. He broke away with remorse.

He knew a Trade when he saw one. In Zevran's position, Macsen would have been angling for favors, too.

He wouldn't apologize, or make it awkward. Macsen simply took a step back. “Thank you, Zev. I'll put it to good use. But I guess we should keep going.”

And so they did, until exhaustion made them stop, too late for talking. Too late for anything but a hasty meal and sleep.

Macsen sought distance from that wonderful moment. He would not take advantage of Zevran's complicated yes.

[slushiecookie]

TW: Gore! (Acid Scars!)

Another SYMMETRY post! ^^ this time introducing one of the contestants:

Tambourine.

Age: 40.

Gender: Male.

Occupation: Orthodontist.

Blue Light.

Tamby was a humble, shy, quiet dentist who was loved by his patients for being patient and gentle. He wasn't only good with other objects, but his skill was one of the best in the city. However, this positivity is strictly monitored by him, and he doesn't want anything to taint his reputation. Tamby can be a bit serious, occasionally taking a teasing joke to heart and holding a very long grudge against the object who said it. He had a loving wife and wanted kids in the future, having enjoyed his interactions with child patients he worked on.

Tamby wanted to join the game to earn more money to provide for his future children and the wife he loved. He determined that while he wasn't very skilled in survival in the woods, a few days of training and his medical knowledge would come in handy.

With that out of the way, onto the piece! I don't see this as spoilers since Tambourine replaces Yin Yang from the old SYMMETRY ^^

For those who don't know, Yin Yang got sprayed with acid in the original, and I wanted to keep that cause it looks cool lol, and while the kunai probably won't be Tambourine's weapon of choice, I thought it would be cool to show it off <D

I wanted the wound to be more realistic and stuff, so I imagine that this is what he looks like after months of no proper medical care and being stuck on and island having to kill objects, the dead skin is scraped off and the flesh exposed though not bleeding. And I also thought of how thin the.... drum...? Of a Tambourine is, so I imagined the acid to have gone straight through his eye and burn a hole in his head!

Oh and the skin around his former eye is probably infected and stuff, and probably having the onset of necrosis so I put some green and black stuff in there that really shouldn't be!

(It's also kinda a redraw of the really really old image on the right! The one of Yin Yang :'>)

[slushiecookie]

After a long time, I finally remade Glowball's ref sheet and gave all of her current forms one too! ^^ (Godball is different so I didn't make theirs yet)

Here's a little bit about each of them! And if you want to know her full lore, then read here and/or here!

Glowball

Smug, sly, and apathetic, Glowball's the worst form morally and takes pleasure in ruining the other forms' lives. She treats them like pests and only shows the slightest of kindness to those who bend to her will.

She sees herself as a natural born leader and superior to the other forms in every way.

Shrimpball

Impulsive, innocent, and a bit stupid, Shrimpball loves food and has the most expanded pallette of anyone, yearning to taste everything the world has to offer, including fire. She hates repetitiveness and craves new things and experiences.

Fishball

Paranoid, timid, and easily flustered, Fishball's picked on the most for his small size and desperation to escape the Mindscape. He also gets terrified when others come up on his blind spot since, y'know, the mask covers his eye. He's also the only one to comfortably walk on all fours as his tail's a bit too big and heavy for only his back legs to support.

Thornball

Optimistic and caring, Thornball strives to make Fishball feel better about being trapped in the mindscape, and he always acts lively and joyful despite his true feelings.

He's used as a pawn by Glowball to keep Fishball from getting depression from their constant torment and becoming "boring," but Thornball truly loves Fishball and hates Glowball's sadistic nature.

Tarball

Mysterious and a bit obsessed, Tarball's attracted to those who are lonely, which means that they love to hang around Fishball, who is frankly terrified of their company.

They have no sense of any type of attraction beyond infatuation, so they overcompensate by hugging every form they find interesting...

Tw: Body Horror!

Beastball

Curious, heavy-handed, and flat-faced, Beastball likes to hunt her own food (with her hands) and has trouble showing her true feelings. She's good friends with Shrimball as the two are basically trash compactors.

And here's their height differences! Tarball isn't there since they change size and shape often ^^

[slushiecookie]

There's slightly religious imagery, but that's it lol

Thankfully my last post did pretty well so here's Father Novel's friend!

My beloved: Bishop Sorrel ❤️ he used to be a really religious guy like Father Novel, but as he got older, he realized that while the pay was good, he would much rather be doing other things with his life, like sleeping. Sadly for him, bishops can only retire at 75 😔

However, the demon apocalypse allowed him to retire 28 years earlier! (No surviving church ppl = no church job)

While this provided temporary relief for him to pursue his dreams of doing nothing forever, he quickly realized that he'd just bought a very nice house and....uhhh he needed that $150,000 salary back to pay it off :')

Many places were hiring because most of their employees were also killed off, possessed, or wanted to enjoy the freedom of the apocalypse, but Sorrel doesn't do work, he does what he wants, which is when he takes back his position of bishop to pronounce Father Novel as an exorcist 😌

Now, for his personality, Bishop Sorrel is pretty impatient, blunt, slightly apathetic, and, of course, a bit lazy, however, he's certainly humorous and honest so he's not the worst... I think lol

As for his design, I gave him claws and a tail since I thought that my recent designs were...very boring and just regular objects with no weirdness going on! So I had to give him something since the whole point of this world is to embrace the weirdness of my many object OCs, the likes of them having random tails and wings and such :D

And the "shadow" on his head isn't actually a shadow, it's just a little marking since I think it makes him look permanently annoyed and that's how he feels about Father Novel ^^'

[slushiecookie]

Tw: Badly drawn gun in 4th & 5th images!

Hi y'all! So I've been developing my story SYMMETRY a bit, and I finally made some designs for these guys! I was just kinda playing around with it and ended up having each of them holding an object for cohesion's sake lol

Anyways, first off is Fowl Feather, the wealthy owner of a successful makeup company; he's prim and proper, as well as charming, but easily overlooks details of things. He's not good at blackmail or likes to do anything that would get "blood on his hands," so he uses his charm and money to manipulate others; only sparingly, though. Going with this, he's also very wimpy and is not physically fit, so he tries to make his appearance as confident and elegant as possible in hopes of deterring anyone from getting physical with him

Next up, French Toast, an ex-cop who now lives his life in blissful solitude as a mechanic; he's collected and quiet but is very stubborn and judgemental. He worked in a station filled with corrupt police and seeing all that injustice changed his mind on all cops. He's got an injury from an explosion that happened on a case and is half-blind, but that doesn't stop him from living his life. The only cop he even lets within a mile-radius is Kiwi, who he despises (in a childhood friend kind of way)

Lastly, Kiwi, a cop who loves to make the world a better place and stop criminals; he's very observant and determined, but can easily act reckless and let his emotion cloud his judgement. Both him and French Toast aspired to become officers, but while French Toast quit, Kiwi was determined to not let the corrupt nature of his coworkers dictate what he believed was right. He firmly believes that criminals should have their rights stripped like they did to others, which has gotten him in a bit of trouble with the law and his higher-ups; however, he's a vital asset because of his agility and small size, what he lacks in physical strength he makes up in swiftness and quick-thinking.

There's what I have of these guys so far! ^^ I'm gonna try to avoid saying any spoilers! So these descriptions are intentionally very vague, I hope to have more to show you guys about the story soon! <D

(All this stuff is subject to change btw, since it's very early in development for the story ^^')

[slushiecookie]

OKAY WHY DID THEY GET 100+ NOTES??? Thank y'all so much for the follows and reblogs!! 😭❤️💕

Since y'all seem to like them, I'll give you guys more little tid-bits about them (you can see their whole dynamic in my first post abt them, just scroll back it's not too far lol ^^')

Brush is a 34 year old lawyer. He's cheeky, cunning, and a bit clumsy at times, and he loves to tease and hit on Bullwhip.

Bullwhip likes to be professional and doesn't like how Brush constantly hits on him in the workplace. He actually gets flustered pretty easily but covers it up by acting extremely mad when he gets embarrassed.

And, while Brush loves everything about him, basically every other employee at the firm hates Bullwhip because of his anger issues. They see Brush as weird for this but don't mind him, he's pretty charming.

Bullwhip is always so fed up with Brush, he constantly says he'll fire him one day, but he never fufills that promise...

[slushiecookie]

TW: Blood!

A tired 22-year-old dropout; Chewy hoped to pave his own path and live on his own, but his limited money didn't allow for that, so he decided to share an apartment with a roommate, which was the biggest mistake of his life.

Moody, short-tempered, and cautious, Chewy is basically the opposite of Pilot. He wishes for a normal life, with a loving girlfriend and a nice house, but Strawberry Pillow also made sure that wouldn't happen and that he would never date women again.

For some reason, even though he literally wants to strangle him, Pilot thinks of Chewy as his best friend, and often times accidentally drags him into situations where Chewy gets mistaken for being Pilot's friend and...well...it's not a good label to have when the person you're rumored to be friends with is the most hated person in the world, possibly universe...literally.

Chewy LOVES metal and rock music, and he's a bit of a metalhead. Music is his comfort and he's usually seen with his headphones on. He greatly dislikes cutesy and traditionally "feminine" things, but he doesn't mind if other objects wear or have them, he'd just never be caught dead wearing or having anything of the sort.

Despite the pillow having ruined his life, Chewy reluctantly accepts that it isn't really Pilot's fault, and living with him for a while has allowed them to get to know each other better. Pilot isn't as bad as Chewy thought, on fact, he's beginning to semi-enjoy his company.

[slushiecookie]

Ok so random OC time, this is Cotton, a 42 year old rancher (/farmer since she grows some crops for her animals ig-) with a thick southern accent who lives in Texas!

Self-indulgent, yes, but I needed a Texan OC okay? :'D yes, she's a stereotypical Texan except for being liberal ofc.

Cotton owns a ranch where she's branded every single animal she owns and is kind of obsessed with branding her property. Why? Well, her ranch is constantly being invaded by skinwalkers

They keep eating her livestock and, most terrifying of all, keep trespassing on her land. But Cotton is a Texan, with a gun, and she's not afraid of them in the slightest. In fact, the skinwalkers have begun to get more cautious around her property, and quickly flee if they see her approaching

Cotton has a prized cow, lovingly named Bessie, who she sells milk from, oh and yes, she does wear cowboy boots 😎

She's also incredibly tall, she'd prolly be like 7ft-

[slushiecookie]

Some cute ship things with a template I found! I heavily edited it and removed some things because I posted it on insta (the cropping is atrocious), so if you want my edit of the template then I can send it! ^^

Anyways, yeah! These two ships :D it was interesting to think about how opposite or alike they are together, and especially whether they value gift-giving or favors! Now, yes, I made up Bullwhip and Brush's ship name on the spot so if you guys have better ones then I'm all ears lol

A quick thing for Valentine's Day but I hope y'all like it nonetheless ^^' and I hope to have more stuff of SYMMETRY to show y'all

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I can't stop thinking about him so I had to make another post here with him ^^'

So yes, THE MAN! And I haven't given him a proper introduction yet! :'D and while I'd prefer to introduce him with his ref sheet, it looks pretty bad so I just...I'll be remaking it later lol

At 38 years old, Father Novel is passionate, stubborn, cautious, and pretends to not to hear any insults. But if you manage to break him he’ll probably have a massive mood swing before instantly regretting it and wanting to die.

No matter what, his faith never waivers, even though it doesn't usually help. Father Novel is also a bit superstitious as well, and he almost always carries salt with him wherever he goes.

Father Novel really loves to read and write, and he likes to keep a little diary around. He also just likes libraries which is kinda weird since he's a book but he can do what he wants I don't mind lmao

Gore and Religious imagery warning!

Now, as for the gore art, this is a sketch done with the digital pen so please ignore the weird looking lines and really really bad background :'> this is his 2nd exorcism, and it didn't go well, he gets his eye gouged out and almost dies, but Bishop Sorrel takes him to the hospital and saves him!

After getting disfigured (and partially blinded) he gets really self conscious and scared and he doesn't wanna do anything anymore. But Bishop Sorrel, with his nonexistent subtlety, basically tells Father Novel that he now owes him for saving his life. To help with the really ugly scars, Bishop Sorrel gifts him a bookmark to cover his eye with, and it helps...kinda...not really lmao

So, Father Novel has to face his fears and continue being an exorcist to pay back Bishop Sorrel for the hospital bill as well as general expenses, and exorcising demons is a good way to take your mind off of your looks because you're fearing for your life instead 😌

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There's extremely cartoony gore (like a meat slice thing) but it's so cartoony that I don't think it needs a warning lol

But here's Pilot's ref sheet! Since I never gave him a proper introduction to y'all:

Pilot is a punching bag oc and, as such, he is my only oc to be able to revive!... in a cardboard box

He's ditzy, shy, simple-minded, and incredibly innocent, but this dumb personality only came after he was cursed to be unlucky, revive, and...well um...dumb, lol ^^'

Basically, he can only get rid of the curse if he reaches his 19th birthday without dying once, which is incredibly hard when you're unlucky and also a fluffy pillow, because pillows die easily and are also sought out for their meat in my world 😊

Aaand that's it, but if you want to know more about Pilot and his pillow friends then stop by my toyhou.se! Here

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I just woke up to 10+ NOTIFS HERE AND LIKE 7 REBLOGS?? THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! <:DD ❤️❤️ y'all seem to really like Cotton lol

I hope you guys like new OCs cause here's one ^^

This is Bullwhip. He has a short-temper, is slightly irritable, and can be pretty scary when he's mad enough. He's also a 48 year old manager at a law firm! Pretty boring, right? Yeah, his life was normal until some random lawyer named Brush showed up

Brush was so close to quitting his job, but after seeing Bullwhip hiring and (like me) not being able to resist such a tall man with such a long neck, Brush stayed a lawyer 💀

Brush isn't the worst but he also isn't the most skilled guy around, so sometimes he messes up on cases and uh...makes the firm lose thousands of dollars- but it's okay because he buys Bullwhip ice cream to make up for it ❤️

Bullwhip is always fed up with Brush and constantly says he'll fire him, but he never does...

(Brush likes to spend his days fawning over the sheer height of Bullwhip, and Bullwhip does not appreciate this)

[slushiecookie]

TW: Blood, Weapons, and Very Cartoony Gore!

Okay so I'm not so sure how to go about posting this next OC, cause she's a lollipop who got mauled but I don't think her design is too gorey to warrent a warning? I'm undecided lol, so please tell me if I need to label this with anything! ^^'

Anyways, this is Envy! A zombie lollipop! She's female and 24 years old (when she died, in my world zombies stay the age that they died no matter how many years have passed since their death)

After getting mauled by Apple Pie (basically a werewolf but not), Envy died from blood loss pretty quickly, but it turns out that whatever Apple Pie was infected with spread to her a little bit. Not enough to turn her into a horrifying creature, but enough to bring her back to life (at the cost of a few brain cells).

Because of this, Envy is basically a zombie that needs to eat object meat everyday, to keep being undead. Normally, this would be an easy task, as there's a black market butcher who does just that, but Envy doesn't play by the rules, nor does she understand them. So? She just takes bites out of random objects (the alive ones) whenever she feels like it

Envy is a bit naive, caring, and joyous, and sometimes can come off as a bit over-the-top despite her not meaning to. She also has a short-term memory, a short attention span, and is absent-minded most of the time.

Envy has a big fascination with cute Japanese-esc ("kawaii") items and clothing, specifically ones with a strawberry theme or pink for some reason. It's unclear if her liking for this came after her mauling, or if it only fueled her obsession.

And the name "Envy" doesn't suit her at all, that's because it was her name before she got mauled, and her personality completely changed so yeah ^^'