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Messages - Shifting Sands

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76
Role Play Theater / Re: Transformation Theater
« on: May 09, 2015, 11:06:32 PM »
"Bubbles" or diving gear things that make you breathe underwater will be provided, unless you can already breathe underwater! And yes, the character is fine, Kit. I'll wait until everyone has their characters up before assigning the stats.

77
Role Play Theater / Setting Explanation
« on: May 09, 2015, 01:28:22 AM »
Since it seems pretty clear that the underwater setting is winning out, that's the one that we'll go with. I'll just briefly mention the special race that I've made for it, in case it draws one of you in.

The vorzh are a race of humanoids that were likely the ancestors of the modern merfolk before they came closer to the surface of the oceans. They are tribal, shamanistic, and crave fights and blood for the spirits and elements that they worship. Their appearance is based off of a variety of animals that we know of around the abyssal layer in the oceans. You could theoretically justify any species that's known, but the ones that tend to make the most sense as anthropomorphic being are sharks, eels, angler fish, and vampire squid (which is definitely the hardest to apply, but a friend of mine planted the idea in my head and I've got a good image of them now).

I already kinda expounded on what the aquatic setting is, but I'll give it another once over. The surface has been scorched and ruined by loads of different monsters, and those that couldn't take shelter in massive tunnel systems that belonged to Earthern ancestors (dwarves, some elementals, so on) had to find another refuge. The ocean was the only other place, because the sky belonged to the wyverns and dragons that were responsible for the destruction in the first place. Magic and technology had to be used in varying amounts to bring as many surface dwellers down as possible. Surface dwellers had to make a large effort to adapt and create just the smallest of underwater villages, looking more like ruins than actual constructions. The vorzh and merfolk already present under the water were more than willing to divy up some space for the new races, and even helped them get their feet on the ground, so to speak. There's a lot of ocean out there, after all. Having more indebted peoples can help out massively in the future.

I don't think there's much to say beyond that for the whole setting, but if there are any more questions, I'll certainly do my best with them. I'll wait until everyone has their character started until I assign stats and all that.

78
Role Play Theater / Setting, example
« on: May 08, 2015, 12:16:47 AM »
Stormkit said that setting would play an influential part on his character design, so I figure that would be a good thing to set up first. So we'll run that bit first.

I have some ideas set up, so I'll just list them real quick:

1. Underwater fantasy. Like Atlantis, but edgy... sort of. It's an idea I've been trying to execute in a sort of DnD campaign for months but it's been hell to get running. This could finally be my chance for it. I've got plenty of ideas set up for it, so this is probably the most fleshed out idea I have. Races and monsters of my own design, conflict that I've got planned in advance... it's my "best" idea.

In terms of how people come together, all surface races in this setting (except for dwarves and oreads or earthy things) are driven to the water by massive overpopulation of monsters, mainly wyverns and dragons. Farms and villages and castles and countries are roasted to ash, and the ruined land won't support anything for a while. The water is the biggest and "most obvious" choice for crazy magicians and scientists.

2. Egyptian-themed fantasy. I'm a total nerd for Egyptian history and mythology and have some events in my mind in case some sort of story or gig like this were to occur. I like to think I'm pretty smart about it, but I'm not a genius or anthropologist or anything, and I haven't even seen Stargate. Some of this will be concrete, and some will be ramshackle, as-I-go. Sort of a look into how I bridge my ideas together, if you want to see it.

Characters here will come together by method of divine intervention because some deities need a hand in their problems and need mortal lives for possible sacrifice. Just think general fantasy characters with more of an African or Asian flair.

3. I don't know! If you've got an idea, pose it to me! If you all like it, I'll work with it! This might take more time, but it could be an awesome idea that becomes some novel I write in the far future.

This was sort of what I did with Vir. I ran a "labyrinth" that was full of encounters and monsters and it was fairly linear. I made things up on the fly. It wasn't the most constructed stuff, but I think I had enough of a coherent idea to pull it through! Of course, it was with one person, so keep that in mind.

I guess I should give a small, out-of-context example real quick too!





"More laughter comes from the aboleth, who begins to let the proboscis back out again. It climbs down from the height it was at, moving in, but has to put up a spout of shadowy, oily water to blot out your fireball.

ARC 1d20+10 = 26

Its magic is powerful enough to keep the fire off of it, setting the spout of water alight and providing an excellent backdrop as it pounces on you with its proboscis, hooking it straight to your head. It doesn't drain, but instead pumps, like the stinger from behind, numbing your mind further.

CHA 1d20+5 = 18 "

79
Role Play Theater / Additional Rules
« on: May 07, 2015, 11:36:40 PM »
Before I get too far ahead of myself I should really make note of the nuances of "combat" specifically that drove my test subject insane in the prototype of the game.

Most things will be rolled in terms of a d20. If you aren't a nerd, get your certificate in order.

"Crits," or natural 20s on your rolls, will usually do double damage or have some additional effect. You're free to give your input on a crit if you think it should do something in particular. (Out of combat stuff obviously won't do the double damage)

I should mention that crits by the enemy will lead to an immediate change as well as more damage! Need more ways to change, after all, even if you play perfectly.

In terms of health, most things will rely on the rule of Nintendo-Three. You know, where things take three hits to kill. Except you take three hits. To kill.

You won't really die, though. In the event of being "killed" you're going to just be defeated and knocked down for a bit. You won't be kicked out for the entire gig - however, your form will be DRASTICALLY altered. It takes a lot of quantum chaos (or some other excuse) to keep you alive rather than dying and falling into the aether!

I don't know if there's more to add to this. Maybe the test subject can tell me if I missed something that irked him.

80
Role Play Theater / Picks, Rules, etc.
« on: May 07, 2015, 11:03:21 PM »
So after careful deliberation and a much unexpected interest in the whole thing, I've picked out the participants. I expected, like, a couple maybe, but with some more I'm thinking about expanding the event into more of a whole campaign-type thing rather than just the one-on-one browser game that it originated from. That's purely because I don't think I can run four different browser games at once. Let me know what you four think.

Those four happen to be
1. Virmir (you get top of the list so squelch your ego)
2. Toast (I guess this makes up for the five thousand TFs you've given me?)
3. Stormkit (never even talked to you when you actually hung around the chat years ago so here's the opportunity I guess)
4. Draykin (I don't have anything funny to say)

Assuming you're all still interested, even if you all have to come together and become a singular party (don't worry, I won't just cast party-wide effects), then we'll line out the rules a bit. The stats will boil down to these:

STRength - how hard you hit physically
AGIlity - how easily you can dodge or take physical attacks
MAGic - how hard you hit magically
RESistance - your resistance of those magic attacks
CHArisma - the ability to sweet-talk or wile your way out of danger
INTelligence - general smarts and how you'll fight against silver tongues

Some of those stat thingies should seem pretty familiar if you looked at Vir's art, so you have a general idea of how transformations can affect your stats. Becoming an ogre, for example, would give you massive strength, resistance, and agility, whereas your magic, charisma, and intelligence would suffer.

That's the idea of the game, after all - you want transformations, not only because they're fun, but because you'll be able to change up your stats, and you'll want to aim to make them improve over time, if only in a couple of categories. Becoming a party makes this idea more interesting - you can have the typical roleplay setup with a charismatic leader, a brute, a damage sponge, and a wizard... OR you can all hit things really hard with tiny tiny brains. It's your choice!

All of the stats will be used in combat. All of them will be used out of combat, too, so there will be some scenery chewing as well as brawling. I don't want one side to become favored over the other - any approach you take should have its usefulness apparent in a roleplay sense as well as in a fighting sense.

Assuming you're all still hooked, I need to know a general layout of the character you bring to the table. I don't care if it's "you" or some OC or whatever, I just need to know the gut feelings you get as to how their stats would be lined up. I'll do the actual number crunching (unless you really insist on assigning points or something, but don't). It'll also be the form that's built off of, so if you start as a tiny Jimminy Cricket or something, you probably won't become much bigger without a significant alteration!

If there are any questions, now's the time to ask them!

81
Role Play Theater / Transformation Theater
« on: May 03, 2015, 05:23:07 PM »
Holy crap, no post on here for months, huh? Disturbing.

BOY, DON'T YOU JUST WISH THERE WAS SOME ROLE PLAY THING TO DO ON CRIMSON FLAG? (probably not)

WELL I'VE GOT THE SOLUTION!

There was a browser game that I played a while back that consisted of DnD-style stat rolling gameplay and written TFs based on your choices and your rolls. In more concrete terms, roll d20s and see what comes of it. The goal can be victory, failing and getting to be a horrifying chimera, becoming a very specific organism and staying as that, or whatever else you can imagine.

So... I intend to bring that here! I'm a budding writer (this is where people should vouch for me, cough cough, please) and I want to keep up my practicing. I need things to write, and this is something that keeps my brain running and rolling, making up all these actions, scenarios, and descriptions. It also helps if I want to run DnD things.

(Speaking of, if I like the impression you give here, I might try and pull you into some campaign that still needs one more person)

In essence, I'm looking for people to say who/what they are if they are roped into a sort of "transformation theater," as I put it in the title, and I need justification/reasons/whatever for why I should include you. SELL YOURSELF! This is an application, and I reserve the right to turn away or accept anyone I choose. If you want to include an example of writing, do that. If you think I like you and will bring you in because of that, go ahead. The "application" is WHATEVER YOU WANT! But the more your "application" appeals to me, the more likely I am to pick you out of the chaff.

Sorry for calling you chaff.

So if you're interested, post up! The specifics of the scenario, stats, and all that will be discussed after I've got genuinely interested and intelligent people. I need those first!

82
Game Room / Re: Guild Wars 2, Take Three
« on: September 13, 2014, 09:40:46 PM »
I'd love to be part of a big guild that contains our forum identity. But my friends and I (Tucker and Draykin) have since made another guild which we've invested a bit into (I don't know how the CF guild compares at this moment) so I don't know which is more worth it. So there's that.

In any case, I play sort of actively with Dray and Tucker.
Bram Belle
Kommandant Jacklyn
Devon Cort
Whimsy Daisy
Genius Mr T

Those are my characters if people are interested. All are 80, as well, but only Bram (thief) and Daisy (necro) are geared semi-decently.

83
Writer's Guild / F.O.Y.
« on: September 13, 2014, 02:44:09 PM »
I was harassed into this

Having never been keen on following any of Medik's "grand schemes," Virmir was entirely justified in being hesitant to take up another offer made by the jackal. When he saw something that seemed like a good idea to his... well, inexperienced might have been the word - mind, he sought after it like some grubby CEO determined to grow their own paycheck. And sometimes it really was that sort of idea; numerous times, he had been after long-lost treasure (Virmir wasn't fond of remembering their Atlantis misadventures), and sometimes it had been stupid enough to get one of them killed. Or both. But given that death wasn't exactly a serious subject for a couple of toons, they always awoke later, and Medik seemed to have forgotten his mistakes by then.

Virmir hadn't, and liked to remind him, however pointless it was.

This time, Medik was still focused on treasure, but this time it wasn't money. Or fame. It was something magical, something ancient, and it was certainly something that Medik truly had no idea about, which left Virmir with very little choice as to whether or not he should get involved. As soon as he had received the parchment from some odd-looking bird on his windowsill, Virmir dropped his drawing where it was and packed an extra cape into his cape, just in case. He jumped from the top of his tree-house to the ground, using his charcoal-cape like a parachute, and started to walk indignantly to where Medik had said he was.

It was a rather long, arduous walk, given that he said he was in blasted Flordia. Why the jackal was there, Virmir wasn't sure. There was certainly nothing ancient or magical about that disgusting Mardi Gras. (That was probably where it was held, right? Somewhere southern.) The swamps there gave him the chills, what with gigantic alligators and other nasty, slimy things residing there.

So of course the destination Medik had left on the letter was in a swamp, just outside of a large town. Virmir shuddered at the thought of running across so many idiotic people, and made sure to take the long way around to the swamp.

And once again, a long way it was. The trek down to Florida had felt long already, but now he had to contend with weird creatures that he had never want to know about, as well as dozens of bugs that would not. Leave. Him. Blasted. Alone.

It was all of two minutes before Virmir decided he had had enough, and summoned up enough magic to coat himself in wonderful, cozy fire. The few bugs who had tried to rest on his body were eaten up by the inferno, and ashes were spit back out. Animals that Vir hadn't even noticed quickly retreated away from him, deeper into marshy pools and behind weeping, bent willows.

The fox smiled. Fire was truly a lovely thing.

He then grunted and tripped over himself, tugged down by a root that sent him face-first into a puddle of deep, deep mud. He coughed and gagged, struggling to righten himself back out. Eventually he managed, but now had a lung full of gunk and a face full of who-knows-what-was-in-the-swamp. He sighed and swiped at his face with his cape to clear off as much as he could, but when he looked down into the clearest pool he could find there was still plenty of mud on his muzzle.

The temptation to just incinerate the entire area was very strong in his mind, but calling attention to himself was something he sincerely wished against. Instead he took out his extra cape and pulled it beneath himself, setting it into the muck like a carpet. Disgusting and annoying as the action was, it would keep himself clean.

Recalling the trick he had learned from some Egyptian peddler a while back, he summoned up enough air (frazz, the entire atmosphere here had so much dang humidity in it) to lift his cape up, furrowing and billowing in the wind like a sail. You know, except sideways. He then gripped onto the sides of the cape as hard as he could, and forced the thing forward with another blast of air.

Virmir didn't like "thrills." But the feeling of rushing air that threw him deep into the swamp without getting any of him covered in swamp-muck or eaten up by alligators was a pretty great sensation. He laughed, once, then a whole-hearted laugh.

It was cut off as the cape (and his head) rammed into a very tall and tough tree.

The gray toon fox blacked out instantly, and only awoke much later, at night, with some sort of rodent-like thing sniffing at him. He swatted at it, and sat up tiredly. He pulled the cape out from underneath him and sighed, the only garment he cared for being torn and covered in memoirs from the swamp. He groaned and packed it back up into his other, close-to-untouched cape. At least he had that.

Vir took a look around where he had crashed, and found nothing that could serve as a point of reference. Left, right, forward, behind him was all just swamp. The trees looked too similar. The only animal that he could see was that blasted rat-thing that was dashing away as he spotted it. The emptiness of the area might be signifying something, he realized. Something like the location of the treasure Medik had informed him of.

Taking one last chance, he looked up, and saw something he really wasn't expecting.

The branches directly above him were sprouting out like the petals on a flower. They were wide enough to walk on, and even seemed to descend like a staircase. With only one real option left (considering that he wasn't going to accept wandering the swamp as an option), he followed the branches as they went down and found the one closest to the ground, which still took a fair amount of effort to climb on.

The tree went up for a very long while. The bark just seemed to keep going and going, and Vir was able to see it the entire time, given that it was his only support as he climbed the branches. Looking the other way, off down into the swamp muck beneath him, wasn't pleasant, so he focused on the bark instead.

The flowering branches led up to a point that was much higher above the rest of the forest. It was so high that a light covering of murk and fog was obscuring his sight back down below. He shuddered as he took his last few steps to the top, making sure that he did not misstep. He hadn't been scared of heights, but a deadly fall into a swamp was a deadly fall into a swamp.

At the final branch, Vir found nothing more. The bark seemed to disappear into nothingness. The top of the tree, though, was open, and seemed to go... down. The gray fox looked down into the dark, empty hole and gulped to himself. There wasn't any other option but down.

He steadied himself for the final jump, looked down into the open tree... and leapt down into the dark, unable to help himself as he yelled and cried out. The fall was longer and much darker than he had ever experienced. Thankfully, he never hit the jagged edges of the whole as he went down, deeper and deeper into the earth than even the trunk of the tree had been. He fell and fell, worried about where he was going to land, hoping that he wouldn't hit the solid ground and end up squashed unless Medik was lucky enough to be hanging around, and ideally he was -

With a splash, Virmir collapsed into water, just enough to break his fall and clean his fur. He blinked slowly and curiously, then patted his fur down and smiled confidently. Just as planned, obviously. He took some more time to get the gunk from the swamp cleansed, then stood up and began walking about to explore the area.

The area was, quite clearly, underground and cavernous. Stalactites and stalagmites hung from the ceiling and grew from the ground, though they were... odd. They looked to be made of a material that was not actually stone. The ground and ceiling themselves weren't really stone, either. It looked lighter than it should, like some odd lighting source was illuminating everything in a cyan glow.

Which, it just so happened, there was.

Virmir's eyes scanned the area before he found the source - a giant fountain that stood in the rear of the cavern, clean and clear water pouring down around it. It literally glowed with a magical sort of brilliance, but Virmir couldn't identify the magic. The aesthetics of the fountain itself were ornate and fantastic. Around the sides were runes - again, he couldn't identify them - and at the top was a single stone angel that held an urn in the crook of her arms. The water flowed from the top of it, propelled by... something.

And at the side of the fountain was a certain jackal, bending over the side and sniffing at the water curiously.

"Medik!" the gray called out.

The jackal's ears perked, whirled, and turned with his head to Virmir. "Hey!" He beckoned the fox over, bending further, almost touching the water.

Vir hurried over before the jackal started slurping up water or dumped some sort of junk in it. He tugged back on his scruff and looked him in the eyes. "Is this the thing you were talking about? The treasure? It's just a fancy fountain."

Somehow, Medik's scruff seemed to retract and the jackal escaped from his grip. "It's not just any fountain!" He pulled out a fancy map of some sort of swamp, and at the center: Fountain of Youth.

Virmir blinked, then stared. "THE Fountain of Youth?" Then he blinked again. "What would you even want with it? How does it help at all?"

Medik looked incredulous, like the answer was obvious. "EVERYONE gets old, toon or not! We get older slower, sure, but this? This would make us live forever!"

"Why would I want to live forever?" the fox asked. He peered around the fountain for anything else, found nothing, and settled on trying to study the runes.

The jackal grinned a slightly manipulative grin. "Why, forever is the best! Imagine how many foxes you could draw in forever!" He started counting on his fingers, then skipped a few thousand. "Infinite foxes! FOREVER!"

At that, Virmir looked up and into the water. He thought and stroked his whiskers. "That does make sense. An infinite drawing session. And I wouldn't have to pick up those canes that the older toons get. Or deal with blurring up in senior years. Or losing my sight..."

Medik rubbed his paws together eagerly. "Perfect! Now, you be my lookout and just keep me safe!" And with that he bent over the fountain again and slurped down water.

Vir shrugged, still looking at the runes. Nothing was going to sneak up on them, probably, so he had plenty of time. Now that he thought about it and looked keenly, the runes were somewhat familiar. He had seen them before thanks to people like Toast and weird cults. Something about... reversal of...

"Wait!"

Virmir jumped from where he knelt at the fountain, trying to tug Medik back. Medik, however, was determined, and latched onto the fountain with his claws, struggling to drink more and more fountain water (which couldn't have tasted very good at all). Virmir continued tugging, Medik continued grunting -

But Virmir won the tug-of-war, though it was at a price. The two of them went tumbling back, and there was a FLASH that blinded the both of them. The fox yelled and swiped his cape around to cover his eyes.

Seconds later, he could see again, but nothing seemed too different. Slowly, he sat up. Medik wasn't around - he had probably been flung further backwards. He turned around and stood, searching in the dark; for some reason, the fountain had lost its glow. "Medik! Come out from there!"

The dark was empty. He waited a minute. Still no reply.

Virmir gulped. He felt behind him for his cape, but there wasn't one. Instead, he had on a full covering of cloth... a robe. He blinked and looked down to find a pair of orbs in the way of his sight. 

She blushed as she realized what they were and what had happened.

"Well, whatever," she mumbled. "It's no big change." She pulled out her sword and began to stalk forward into the dark.

She was glad that the Shifty figure had given her a truesilver sword a while back. The metal was durable, to a stupid degree, and it shone in any dark area. Lucile continued to cautiously step around in the dark, waiting for Medik to pop out and try to scare her.

But it simply wasn't happening. Lucile groaned and held her head. "Medik, you know I can't leave without you or child services will kill me," she grumbled.

Then again, how would they leave?

If they could go back up through the way they had entered, she had no idea how. If they were stuck down here, at least they had water. But no food. She held her gut and peered down at it, hoping that she had a small layer of fluff in case they were going to be left without food for a while.

"...frazz, frazz, frazz, FRAZZ, FRAZZ!"

Lucile screamed and dropped her sword, both hands and arms rushing to her gut. "You blasted idiot jackal who just can't keep away from incredibly dangerous and ancient things of power and just have to touch and feel them so that -"

She started hyperventilating, rubbing over her distended gut. There was no doubt about it - that wasn't food. There was most certainly something - someone - in there, and she was not pleased. "I could cut you out, you know, you frazzing blasted cursed jackal!" she yelled, grabbing up her sword again. It took considerably more effort, bending over and picking something up. She groaned and stayed her hand, obviously not keen on cutting into her own gut. ...and it was sort of her fault, too. If she hadn't tried to pull Medik away, maybe he would have been the only one affected and she could just leave with her flying cape that had been replaced by a full robe.

"Gods, you're a hopeless little... pup," she sighed. "And I guess you're... mine." She sighed again, louder this time. She held her head in her paws, rubbing at the growing headache she was getting from yelling.

Lucile wasn't alone, at least. And maybe Medik would be more tolerable before he could get up and run around, or run his mouth. Maybe she could do some thinking or drawing or writing without him bothering her. 

...maybe he could be born as a fox, and be raised to be productive from the start.

Lucile smiled and rubbed at her belly. "Maybe you're not so bad."

84
Art Gallery / Re: Ask *name* Questions
« on: March 12, 2014, 11:09:58 PM »
Donnie, did you ever finish that mech design so you could brave the Glass Desert?

And I second Geary's |:P

85
Game Room / Guild Wars 2 Again
« on: March 02, 2014, 06:25:34 PM »
It's been a long time since anybody in the chat coordinated on this game or made a guild that we actually all stuck with, so I'm interested in if anyone wants to do so again! I like the game, but I just get so tired of it so quickly if no one plays with me (because I'm beginning to realize just how much of a freaking social creature I am). So if anyone has an idea/wants to be involved, just say something! Please!

86
Role Play Theater / Re: Planning a Guided Tour of Planet
« on: January 09, 2014, 09:46:51 PM »
Well I don't see why not to do this, so I'll "play" |:P

I like action and drama! And I would probably rightfully assume that this isn't a very toony type thing, so if I need to change things up just a tiny bit (as in, not being a very tiny jackal who is made of ink ((probably))) just tell me and I'll come up with something!

87
Writer's Guild / Snakes, Skins, and Stones
« on: December 23, 2013, 09:33:04 PM »
        Mornings were usually pretty simple for Kendo Virmir. Every day, he woke up to sun filtering into his bedroom through its wooden walls, climbed out of bed, bathed himself, ate some simple, habitual breakfast, and so on. All of that stuff was just preliminary and in the way of what he actually wanted to do: get something done. Drawing, or mowing, or creating; anything like that was his lifeblood, his main hobby.

   Of course, he broke it up with some sparse game-playing in between, but that wasn’t anything exotic or crazy.

   Everything had been going according to schedule and plan since Virmir had woken up. He woke up before the sun had hit his eyes straight-on, he felt energetic enough to get right into the shower, and had a bowl of cereal at his desk without spilling a drop of milk. He put the bowl and spoon into his sink and ran back to his room to don one of his many capes. After clipping it into place and giving it a nice flourish, he stomped back to take his seat at The Desk.

   Right away, he pulled the pen to his tablet out from its slot and started tap-tapping away until he could get to drawing. He experimented a bit with some scribbles and the pressure-sensitivity before he began drawing up the wireframe for himself.

   On any other day, dedication like that was what made Virmir able to be productive and beneficial to his own community. But today wouldn’t be the case.

   As the gray fox sat there, sticking his tongue out and twisting around in his swivel chair, there was a sickening, slimy sound from his front door. He didn’t notice, of course, because he was way too interested in drawing himself. He drew more and more, getting to the sketching…

   Something knocked on the door. Well, less of a knock, and more of a SLAM that dented and splintered the wood inward. “Leave the package at the door!” Virmir yelled behind him, then went straight back to drawing. He could have already been working on the inking if he hadn’t been bothered…

   But the visitor didn’t just stop at the door. There was a hiss, followed by a complete crash of the front door. Wood pieces went flying by Virmir’s face and cracked the wall in front of him.

   “What in the trees is –“

   The fox spun around to face his broken doorway, but there were two very large… things in the way. They looked very similar: both of them were significant in size, bulky, and very naga-like. Only their upper body and lower body were both that of snakes. Their coloring looked somewhat like garter snakes, but they didn’t seem nearly as harmless. The only difference that was visible was the splintered left arm on the front naga.

   Virmir only took a few seconds to analyze their looks, and then went straight to flinging fireballs. He wasn’t nervous about burning his house down at all after getting it enchanted with some help from other prominent mages in his area (read: bribing Shifty to steal some tomes for studying) and his rage was only going to help burn up the stupid reptiles even hotter.

   But the nagas didn’t catch fire. The slightest spark from the fireballs just bounced off of their scales. The splinter-armed one smiled and swung around a bundle of ropes.

   “…blast,” Virmir mumbled, regretting not learning any other spells.

   The undamaged naga had already used the time to swing around behind Virmir and wasted no time in elbowing his neck. He swung forward, knocked out, and the two snake-beings tied up the fox’s limbs. They nodded to each other, and the two of them dragged the fox out by his ears.



   When Virmir came to, his neck and the entire lower half of his body were incredibly sore. With a groan, he struggled to sit up and check on why the latter of the two was so in pain, ignoring the events before his sudden sleep.

   His legs were covered in scratches and bruises, with no real signs of why in the world those injuries were there. He gave them a pat and yelped, just turning away to bother with whatever else might be in the immediate area.

   What he found, he hadn’t really been expecting.

   “Bug-pony?” he asked, though it was pretty obvious what was in front of him.

   The changeling in question looked up from the floor and stared, as blinking wasn’t something that changelings could pull off very well. “Not ‘bug-pony,’ Vir, you know that fully well,” he mumbled, and jabbed at the fox’s wounds to wake the pain up again. As Virmir scrambled back with another yelp, Shifty made introductions as he normally did, making another side comment about the story containing his own background that would eventually, one day, sometime make it down completely on paper.

   Virmir didn’t pay much attention to it, though, and tried to wrap his cape around his knees and shins. He managed to do so, sitting up in a sort of blanketed position. “Aside from abusing me as per your MO, what are you doing here?”

   Shifty’s mood seemed to drop from heaven to hell. “Yeah, uh…” He gestured vaguely. “I was… flying, and then, uh…”

   Virmir arched his brow.

   A loud sigh went throughout whatever room the two happened to be in. “Okay, I was screwing around with some spells I’d picked up, but I think it got a bit out of hand somehow, and there were these naga things that picked me up and… well, now I’m here.”

   “Sounds a lot like what happened to me,” Vir said, and he took a better look at the room around him to try and identify it. There really wasn’t a lot to it, but it helped give him an idea of what it might be. An awful looking toilet was in the far corner, and though it didn’t look like it had been used in years, that didn’t help its looks or the smell that he linked with it. There was a tiny bunk bed that looked like it would accommodate only Virmir’s torso, and no blankets were provided on either bunk. Only one entrance (or exit, as he preferred at the moment) was in the room, and it was a large iron door with exactly four bars at the top for peeking through.

   Or clanging mugs and coins against them, he realized. “Some sort of cell,” the fox mused, and Shifty nodded. “No time to waste, then.” Virmir mustered up all the magic he could with some focus. After only a few seconds, he summoned up some sparks in his paws, gathered them together into a tiny ball of fire, tried to grow it into something dangerous…

   But the magic fizzled and fell apart before the sparks had even come together.

   “Already tried that,” Shifty mumbled. “You think I’d stay in here if I had the chance to get out?”
   Virmir growled and sent a death glare at the door, though it didn’t accomplish much. He turned back to Shifty, who was kicking at the floor again. “What do they want with us? We have habeas corpus, or whatever, right? They have to say why they’re holding us.”

   “I somehow got the feeling that these guys don’t exactly abide by law.” Shifty gestured around the room. “I’ve been here for longer than a day and they haven’t fed me. Granted, I have a different diet than most, but still, I’m starving here. And what’s more…” The changeling stopped and looked down at the ground again.

   The gray fox pushed Shifty’s face back up to look at his own. “What, what is it?” he asked frantically. Normally he would be pretty calm in a case of abuse like this, but isolation from technology, being trapped with a person (or pony of some sort), and not being fed did not sound pleasant. And if there was something more…

   Shifty sighed and turned around. “The tail.”

   Instead of some weird horse-hair-like mockery made of buggy stuff, there was a tiny, curling, pink twirl of a tail. Like that of a pig.

   “…um,” Virmir said, intelligently. “How?”

   “I don’t know!” Shifty shouted. “You think I’d do this to myself?! I can’t pull off any magic when I’m starving like this, and the room won’t let me, anyway!” His horn sparked in frustration. “I can’t change it back, and it bothers me a lot, and… ugh!”

   Something dimly occurred to Virmir as he sat there with the raging changeling. Snakes weren’t exactly known for eating animals of the size of pigs, but naga that stood taller than Virmir weren’t really normal snakes. If they could somehow pull off magic while they couldn’t, and changed around both Shifty and himself before they starved and died from that, well…

   “Have you seen those naga eat anything?” Virmir asked.

   Shifty shook his head, jabbing at his aberration of a tail (which Virmir had to agree with). “I’ve only seen one or two walk by the door, and they always move quickly past us, so I don’t think they really care.”

   That was only a little comforting. Maybe the naga didn’t care for foxes and horse-things, but did want some pork when they actually ended up as such.

   Just as Virmir was getting ready to settle down and take a long sleep to fuel thinking on how to get out, there was a loud rapping of metal on metal at the door. Virmir covered his ears in reflex, but could still hear the scratchy voice that yelled “OUT! FOLLOW!”

   The door swung open, and a very tough-looking naga was on the other side. He looked like he was sort of based off a cobra, and was holding a rugged scimitar that seemed to bend in and out. Like a snake, Virmir dimly noticed.

   Slowly, the fox lowered his hands from his ears and stood up shakily. Shifty stepped ahead of him, trudging up to the naga and keeping his head down. Virmir didn’t much want to break the trend, and followed suit.

   The cobra-naga began to lead the two prisoners on, past dozens of other cells. None of them made a sound. Either there were no other prisoners, or they were all “taught,” somehow, to keep absolutely quiet.

   And since neither of those things were very positive, Virmir wished that he didn’t think too deeply into things like this.

   Virmir just stared after Shifty and the naga in front of him as they stepped forward. He dearly hoped that they weren’t headed to a butchery room, and were just mistaken prisoners being brought outside to freedom. Though he quickly dismissed that thought, it began to resurface when he began to smell the scent of flowers and heard the trickling of water. When the naga slithered out into full sunshine, Virmir allowed himself to think that he truly was being let free.

   The sun was a bit painful to his eyes at first, but the fox adjusted and glanced around. Wherever he was, it was beautiful: There was a stream that made only the slightest of noise; there were kudzu growing up around the walls of the stone building he was in; dozens and dozens of flowerbeds, with busy bees, were scattered around; a few birds chirped and flitted overhead, and Virmir watched them as they flew over to a large gathering of stone. He looked a little closer, and saw what the stone actually was – a giant statue of a Greek warrior, complete with armor, literally chiseled musculature, sword, and shield.

   Cobra-naga glanced back at the two of them and made a sort of “hyuck” noise. Not in a laughter sense, either; it sounded more like a spit than anything. His hood flared and wiggled back and forth, and Virmir just watched in fear. This snake-guy could be a spitting cobra, after all, and dying in such a pretty place was better than a cell, but not much better.

   Seeing no recoiling from the fox, the naga turned away and slithered off again. “STAY,” he said, and both Virmir and Shifty did as instructed. They looked around the beautiful outside once more, then looked back to each other.

   “Um, I know it’s not the best circumstance to ask,” Shifty started, “but have you been, uh, packing on some pounds for winter or something?”

   Virmir gaped a bit at the question and stuttered, well-aware that he had only been eating sparing amounts of veggies in the last month, and none of it had been celery. But when he looked down, he saw his gut was indeed distended, drooping with extra weight that he could not remember ever picking up.

   “And, uh… you shave your tail?”

   Now THAT was nonsense. Kendo Virmir would never do such a thing, and he looked back to see his tail –

   Which was now just a thin little brush of a thing with bits of hair at the tip, flicking around incessantly.

   “GAH!” Virmir shouted, the only way he knew how to react. “H-how?! W-why?!”

   Shifty poked at the pudge Virmir was now sporting, snickering to himself. “Interesting. Probably some sort of effect from that room. Or maybe that spittle…”

   Virmir gagged and pushed Shifty back, holding his belly to himself. “Spittle? What are you talking about?”

   The changeling stepped forward again, though he seemed to be lumbering a bit more than before. He pointed at the fox’s side, before said fox swatted his hoof away. He looked down and saw a bit of green goop that was quickly melting away the fur where it was, but it looked to be dissolving at the same time. Still gaping, Virmir tried to wipe the gunk off with his cape or push it away somehow. When nothing worked, he considered jumping into the stream to try and fix what was happening before he remembered the instructions he was supposed to listen to.

   “No one makes a lap-fox out of me,” he spat, and jumped into the stream.

   Shifty gave a bit of a shout to try and get the fox to climb back out, and quickly, but Virmir was already at work trying to clean the spot off. The goop just wouldn’t go away and it was driving him mad. He picked and scratched at it, but it dug in further. It was forming into something, but he just could tell. It looked like it was black, pure black, and it was still infuriating him and he wouldn’t have it –

   “Misssster fox.” A sultry and hypnotic voice reached Virmir’s ears as he was trying to clean himself off. (The sultry part had no effect, but “hypnotic” certainly did.) The fox perked his ears up further and looked back to where Shifty was.

   Right next to the changeling – rather, holding the changeling like a little pony – was a large, shapely naga with bright, piercing red eyes. Deadly-beautiful snakes were in place of her hair, twisting about in a leisurely manner. Her form was covered in shining green scales that reflected the sun in a wonderful way, and while Virmir wasn’t very interested, she was a pinnacle of hourglass bodies with how her bust and hips were. She was wearing a long, flowing dress that nearly reached the ground, a silky red that helped to bring out her eyes further. The underscales of her belly could only be seen around her neck and chest, and they were the typical yellow, but looked so much better and more exotic than the word “typical” could possibly account for. Her tail was gently curled underneath her, ending a wider tip that looked almost like a spade. And on her forehead was the most expensive ruby that Virmir had ever seen, shaped like another eye.

   Virmir scrambled out from the water, hefting himself more than he should have with the extra weight, and stepped over to the gorgeous naga-lady. She simply smiled, showing a pair of opal fangs against her scales. "Kendo Virmir, yesss?" Her voice was truly captivating, but the "hissssing" was a bit harsh on the ears.

   The fox nodded, finding it a bit difficult to form some words.

   "Good to know that my goonsss could do one little tasssk. Unlike before..." She sighed and began scritching behind Virmir's ears like he was a simple pet. He felt he should object, but it felt too nice for him to complain. "You may know me from mythology, or legendsss of the sssort. I am Medusssa. I welcome you to my abode. Currently, you and your friend here are in my rock garden. What do you two think of it?"

   Shifty nodded from his spot in Medusa's arms, staring at both her and the area around him at the same time. Virmir looked back to the garden, managing to tear his eyes away with the suggestion. He gathered up his thoughts and glared out at the statue in the garden. "It looks real nice and all, but you took us up from our homes and threw us in a cell. Why are we supposed to join you in some pleasant conversation?"

   "Oh, don't be ssso hateful. You can look at me. I won't petrify you, dear fox." Virmir didn't turn around to look, but he could hear the pouting in the naga woman's voice. "Oh, fine. I take all the bessst artissstsss from over the world and even other onesss. I bring them here to relax and ssspend the remainder of their livesss in paradissse. They can work at their art all they want, in the beauty here."

   Virmir soaked that in, accepting that somewhat. He WAS a great artist, and the place WAS pretty grand. His treehouse probably wouldn't ever be so well-kept, tidy, and beautiful simultaneously as this garden was.

   But still, he had to be cautious. "Where are these other artists, then?"

   Medusa didn't hesitate in the slightest. "Working. I hope you two will begin to do the sssame, very sssoon, or I will not keep you around."

   Virmir tapped his foot, which felt heavier than he remembered and folded his plumper arms. "You're not a god of beauty, or art, or anything of the sort, and we know. Well, at least I know. The bug-pony might be falling for you, but I'm not. You were vain and made into the ugliest thing that those old men in the sky back then could think of, and you also got the bad habit of turning your courtiers into statues. Now, if we're here to be your indentured servants of some sort, we refuse." Shifty started to protest, but Vir went on. "I speak for him on his off days, which happens to be now."

   Medusa, unhappy, laid her clawed fingers on Virmir's shoulder, digging the claws in just far enough to draw blood. The fox cringed and kept looking away. "You will draw for me," she said, her voice right up against his ears, "or you will be my art."

   Thinking about it, maybe it was worth it to avoid being a statue that birds would inevitably defecate on if he just had to draw all the time. Hopefully, he'd be fed, too. "What do I have to draw? Because I'm sure you don't want my foxes. They eat you, don't they?"

   Again, Virmir could hear the expression on Medusa's face: a very large frown. "No. None of your kind. I want picturesss of me, all day and night long."

   "What?! No! I need a bit more variety than that," he said, stepping further away and looking around for an exit he could leave through. Whatever was happening with him, he felt much heavier than before, and was starting to lean forward on all fours. "Offer refused, now, can you show me and my friend the way out?"

   There was a loud, grating hiss behind Virmir before the naga slithered in front of him and snatched him by the snout, tearing his face up to look right into the giant red ruby on Medusa's forehead. Immediately he was paralyzed, standing stock still and unable to remember how to move a muscle. "Your way out is right over here, you animal." She pointed to her left, and Virmir couldn't help but start stepping in the direction she had indicated.

   When his eyes finally broke free from the gem, Virmir began to form thoughts again and try to stop himself, but he failed. Over and over, many times, in fact. He found a pedestal in front of him that his hands and legs began to clonk upon, though he couldn't much tell the difference between the two anymore. They were all hard and indistinguishable now, with no thumb to hold anything. And, to make matters worse, he could begin to feel a tingling sensation low in his gut that felt similar to when he was changed into Lucile, which happened more often than he could readily remember now. That tingling began to take form and dig out from his skin, and though he couldn't see it very well, he started to get the feeling that he knew what was happening with his body.

   "Cow," he mumbled through grated teeth that were shifting to eat veggies, and only veggies. "A... blasted cow."

   It felt like an eternity of standing still and feeling odd changes go on through her body before Virmir saw something change in his sight. Medusa came over and plopped the changeling she had been holding onto the same pedestal. Had, as it was a changeling no longer, but a nondescript pig with quite a bit of fat to it. Though, Virmir thought, he was probably no better in terms of slimness.

   Still struggling to try and move, Virmir caught a glimpse of Medusa sliding back with her hands in a mock camera shape, her ruby giving off a dull gray color. His options were running lower and lower, now, figuring that the gray was nothing good. His suspicions were confirmed when he felt a lack of feeling in his limbs, the stone already seizing up his joints. Cringing, he tried to move toward Medusa, figuring that if anything, he could ruin her art as a final insult. It was incredibly slow and begrudging to lean, and he couldn't tell at first if it was even working. But he noticed that his vision of the petrifying piggy in front of him was slanting, and kept working at leaning, and leaning. His sight was getting kinda foggy. His sides felt creaky and hard...

   "Hmm... odd, ssseemsss to be off," Medusa mumbled, much to herself, and slid forward to try and push the cow-Vir back up.

   But gravity works on the side of good.

   There was an immense WHUMP in the garden, followed by the sound of many, many different people taking deep breaths. Virmir himself began to feel from his body again, and it was back to being foxy and male. Experimentally, he wiggled his arm, and swished his bushy tail. He let out a deep breath before he sat up, realizing he had been laying on an incredibly bruised and squished snake woman.

   Dozens of other people looked around in awe of their returned selves, though none of them stuck around too long. Virmir turned to see some old Greek warriors, pirates, vikings, samurai, and more displaced fellows run off and climb over the walls to the outside. He thought about what kind of effect all those random historical types would have, being released on the current world and all, but quickly dismissed it as not his problem. He looked to Shifty, who was kicking at the pedestal and Medusa alike. "Can't even eat bacon," he said, before spitting on the crushed naga.

   Vir smiled just a tiny bit. Walking off, he looked forward to working on his drawing again, hopefully without being interrupted by more snake-type-people.

   "Gah!" The gray fox fell flat on his face as he tripped on something rough and stony. He spun around, hoping that Medusa didn't have golems that were designed to come to life and murder whoever did her in. Instead, he found the large red ruby, released from her forehead and glimmering. Shifty was already flying away, making the garden completely empty now. And leaving the gem behind for those other naga just wouldn't do...



   Virmir sat up a bit straighter in his chair, sipping at his ice water and grabbing his tablet pen. He scribbled there, and here, and added a touch there...

   He leaned back, content with his work, and tapped at the statue in his work room. "I think you'll like this. Plus, you learned a valuable lesson; give me a reference, or I'll make one!"

   Shifty didn't move from his petrified spot, somehow looking both pensive and shocked.

   Virmir grinned and juggled the ruby around before he uploaded the drawing and closed his laptop.
   

88
Free art is kinda dumb to not take, so... hope I get something that isn't bad!

89
Art Gallery / Re: Halloween Sketch-a-thon 4 (open)
« on: October 20, 2013, 04:05:36 PM »
#41 I guess

OKAY

I want a pic of Jacklyn (http://art.by.virmir.com/art/noise) dressed as a necromancer (http://vigroco.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/necromancer.jpg like this, but more girly, no hood, lower cut), holding her hands over a mound of dirt, magic trickling down from her fingers... and Medik (http://art.by.virmir.com/art/paint_job), with a torn ear, one of his eyes missing, and a wide grin of rotted teeth is rising up from that mound! Maybe add more zombie touches, like missing parts of the skull, some bone-fingers, a missing hand... all up to you, dunno how indepth you wanna go :P

90
Art Gallery / Re: Halloween group pic signups
« on: October 19, 2013, 11:28:52 PM »
Took forever until I finally had an idea, no idea if it's my best but hey

Name: Medik

Reference: http://art.by.virmir.com/art/paint_job Pretty old but here

Monster: Illithid/githzerai/ http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/wl_gallery/90318.jpg

Pose: Probably holding a cup of punch or something that the new tentacles get fumbled around over, and then Medik looks up and around, confused at how he can suddenly see and eat thoughts!

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