Starting to work on the inking and coloring of this guy. Â I still need more practice at producing more interesting linework, but I’ll be working on it.

Starting to work on the inking and coloring of this guy. Â I still need more practice at producing more interesting linework, but I’ll be working on it.

Another brief revised fragment of this story, continuing from last time. Â It’s short because I spent most of the writing period trying to work out what the guy was cursing like. Â I appear to have lost my sanity because I decided a walrus was appropriate. Â How does a walrus swear? Â Um. Â He says ‘bukkit‘?
In the next stall, a raven was busy shooing children away from pyramids of melons meticulously piled, and in his frustration nearly knocked them over himself. The avian was cursing like a walrus and Kohath decided to pass him by.
Oct 17
Tags: art, buffets, cougars, fat, furry, Kit, Moriarty, requests, tigers
I throw in about four different layers to make the change from the last stage to this:

But I don’t think any amount of Photoshop tweaking can save the background, I’m afraid. Â Enh… we’ll see, I guess.
This is actually almost too small to post, but then I guess most of my scraps are. Â This is sort of a new quasi-didactic project I wanted to start, and I spent most of this writing period trying to figure out who’d be involved and what they were like. Â It’ll be Blake and a new character, a marten by the name of Emmett.
It was my first date with Blake. Sure, we’d hung out with friends before, run into each other on the promenade, but tonight I’d asked him out officially; he’d given me that subtle smile of his and said “Sure thing, marten.â€
I was pretty nervous.
So this week I worked a bit on texture. It doesn’t come out too well—the hair needs a good reshaping, and the eyebrows… the eyebrows… require serious help—but… one day at a time.


Okay, so since the last time I worked on this guy I’d been bugged by his right hand, the one with the crossed fingers.  So I was trying to make it right—“save me, flickr!”—and didn’t realize till about halfway through drawing time that his hand was facing the wrong way.  Not, like, anatomically wrong… just pragmatically so; when you cross your fingers you don’t normally turn your hand in that direction.
I ran out of drawing time before I could get it right, so he’s just got an outline at the moment.  ¬.¬
Oct 13
Tags: art, bunny slippers, multi, nsfw, satyrisks, weird, Xylophanes
Didn’t get to make much progress this week.  Not really happy with the way the lines are coming out—I really want to get back into doing linework properly, by hand (it’s on my agenda for my next batch of arts).
Oct 6
Tags: body control, Frank, furry, humans, mice, outing, pigs, Ralph, tigers, writing
The previous section of this draft was posted a month ago. Â Â This outcome is something I had not at all expected would happen, but it seems inevitable, really. Â I know it ends pretty weak here; in draft it’ll be smoothed to segue better into whatever ends up happening next.
“You’re in my chemistry class, aren’t you?†he said, to the burly human in line in front of me.
Ralph’s smiles were infectious, even with my face cracking them. At least, they felt that way from the inside. The guy was not won over. “Yeah… so what?â€
By the look he gave me, you’d think I was some new species of pond scum—uninteresting and distasteful.
“I just thought that—â€
“I’m not interested in speaking to you,†the guy said, and turned back to face the front of the line.
Ralph turned to face the mouse girl in line behind him. “What was that about,†he said.
“Everyone knows you’re gay,†she said. “You do realize that limits your social circle, right?â€
I didn’t know what people thought about me, so of course Ralph couldn’t have.
I’d like to say Ralph handled it gracefully, made a joke, and shrugged it off, but he didn’t get the chance—I took over, fled the cafeteria, and hid under some stairs in the music building, crying, for a good long time.
The previous part of this was posted last month. Â I can definitely see a few things that’ll need fixing on the second draft.
I sat on the edge and watched the golem attempt to fight off the monster ram, waving the kelvin’s spear back and forth.
The ram, for its part, seemed to have calmed down, and was watching Munk with an expression that oscillated between indifference and confusion as the spear went back and forth.
“It only wanted me, didn’t it?” I said.
The kelvin I spoke to nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the arena.
“I have to go back down there, don’t I?”
The kelvin nodded again.
“How’m I supposed to beat that thing?”
The kelvin didn’t answer.
I didn’t come prepared for this.  What’ve I got? My bare hands—but I’m a flabby alchemy geek, that won’t do me any good.
Clothes on my back; not likely to be helpful.
I have a golem, and my golem has a spear. Â But my golem is inept at violence by design and the monster won’t fight it anyway. Â No help there. Â And flimsy alchemy geek arms wouldn’t handle a spear any better.
I have my environment. Â An arena full of armed gryphons.
Right, and one unarmed gryphon.
With fire.
“May I borrow your candle?”
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