Tumgik
#oh so people sell detailed high rendered art of characters you love
flamboyant-king · 4 years
Note
Fuck I sent that before I finished sksksks it was supposed to say "have you considered making merch of your cute little fire emblem drawings?
of course I have! my brother wanted to help me make pins and charms and all that good stuff. But I have a niche audience and we have to produce a minimum of like 50, and I know I won’t have 50 peeps buying my memes. I would love to have like 50 keychains of bun lew or teeny taku or any of my trademark jokes. Make my merch unique nyaha!
15 notes · View notes
joa123 · 5 years
Text
Chapter 1: Oblivion
*Knock knock*, that was about the tenth knock I heard on the door. Damn these fucking loan sharks and furniture people didn’t rest. I even caught one trying to turn the knob on the front door. Can you believe that. Son of a bitch was actually crazy enough to think that I had left the door open. What the hell did he think I was gonna do, let him come in, sit on my couch and eat my pop tarts, and let him berate me for 2 hours as to why I was late for the fifth week in a row, again, fuck that. If I just stand here long enough they have to leave eventually. It looks like mom forgot to pay Rent-a-Center for the 5th week in a row. Not at all surprising to be honest. But what did I expect. We were struggling to keep our heads above water for some time and at this point struggling had become an art form. Hiding from loan sharks was the tequila that burned the back of my throat and hiding from these assholes was the lemon that quenched the burn.
My knees were hurting from leaning over on the floor trying to look under the door to make sure the rent-a-center collectors had left. They started getting smart on me. Covering up the peephole so that way I would just reluctantly open the door without looking. HA! Those morons, their balls would fall off before they saw this pretty face again. After about 5 more minutes I left to my room and locked the door. I threw off my shirt, pants and accidentally flung a sneaker at the mirror from trying to take it off so bad and walked to my bathroom. It was probably the only thing good about living in this freaking house. I had my own bathroom. Not that it mattered a whole a lot considering my mom walked in whenever the fuck it suited her. Jesus Christ, Dominican parents are the worst. If you don’t live with them they bitch and moan about how you never visit them. And if you do live in their house and pay about 80% of the bills in this bitch like I do, you get no privacy.
You have to send out memos and public service announcements to let everyone and their mother know when and if your going to fuck, shower or shave and how often your gonna do it, just to make sure that someone unexpectedly doesn’t pop in and witness your tit halfway down someone’s throat. That is if you have tits, if you have something else, then just use your imagination. Over the years I had begun to hate being home. Vacations to me were a must every so often and I felt like I was losing oxygen all the time. I felt trapped, unfulfilled and literally felt like everyone was moving on with their lives.
They say never peer through someone’s window unless you want to live in the house, but from the outside looking in, anything is better than this. I mean look at me, Jo. Living in the same house I lived in since my senior year of high school, and I’m about to turn 26. And let me be clear, there's nothing wrong with being a fully grown adult and living at home, it just wasn’t my cup of rum. Besides this house felt tainted and dirty, not to mention the shit it has seen over the years. I mean I’ve been through 9 jobs, 5 boyfriends, 4 cats, 3 graduations, 2 siblings born, 2 cars.
But today was the day I was out of my wits. Anyone, from old man jenkins to the girl scouts could catch a beating. Real life lately had depleted me of any and all available fucks I had left to give. I needed something exciting, fulfilling, new and life changing. I had just started a new job in the city, I thought maybe that would do the trick. New environment, new people and it seemed easy enough. But I always felt empty. I slipped into the tub with seething hot water, hoping it would burn off the stench of misery. Today had just been a particularly rough day. Nothing and I mean nothing was going my way. Bill collectors were calling, the mailbox was filled with disconnection notices, it felt like my world was caving in. And all mom could do was cry. If you’re wondering why I don’t mention Dear old Dad, well don’t. I don’t necessarily have a problem with him. I guess if you’re an outsider looking in, he’s funny, charismatic and great with friends. The man could sell you water.
But if you’re on the inside looking out, like me, I can’t unsee the manipulative, devious, wife beating, bastard that he is. Nothing about him said father to me, and nothing about him made me want to reach out and try, so I never did. And here I am, 2 arms, 2 legs and a head later. Still walking, still breathing, still living. Well, surviving was more like it, but he didn’t need to know those details now did he. Once I saw that the tub filled up to a decent depth I closed the nozzle and let the heat overwhelm me. It felt amazing. As if the beating that reality was giving me was almost all worth it for this...well, I did say almost.
The water felt like a much needed embrace. I watched as the water first covered my toes, my legs then my stomach and watched as it eventually worked its way to my face. I completely submerged underwater, wetting my hair and felt the smooth liquid finally take my hair with it. I stayed underwater for bit, wanting the dirt from this weeks headaches to run away from my scalp. When I emerged I felt cleansed and soothed. I laid there for a few minutes, letting my thoughts run through me. I was so over it, if you know what I mean. I felt as though peace had evaded me and it has been that way for years now. I started to think, when is it all going to stop. The thinking, pondering, the yearning. Then I thought to myself maybe I should just take up a hobby, maybe that would make me feel better.
But what could be something that isn’t time consuming, expensive, yet that was invigorating and could stir up passion in me? I thought maybe writing would suit me. I had always loved English, loved reading stories and deciphering meanings, analyzing characters, maybe I could write about my shitty life and how there were days when I so badly wanted to end it. “I don’t know, I’ll think about it”, I said to no one in particular. The problem with me has always been that I lose interest in things quickly. If I start painting I'll like it for about a week. Then I’ll get bored and move onto something else or even worse, I’ll stay on airplane mode and wont even attempt to try something else. I have grown comfortable with mediocrity. What’s even worse, was that I wasn’t even attempting to make change, I just existing. Slowly but surely blending in with the rest of the mundane world. I snapped out of my thoughts when I felt my promise ring effortlessly slip off of my finger and fall to the bottom of the tub. Goosebumps ravaged my body and it felt as if someone had pulled it off and let the ring slip though their fingers. Which was strange since it fit perfectly. But maybe I had fiddled with it while I was sorting through my midlife crisis and hadn’t noticed thatI had loosened the grip on the ring.
I turned around in my tub so as to face the drain to catch the ring before it swam down the drain. It felt like the ring was running away from me. I kept smacking the bottom of the tub trying to grab the ring and it felt as though every time it slipped away, the ring was laughing at me. After about a minute of this charade, just when I thought I grabbed it, something entirely different grabbed me. I didn’t understand it then, but in that instance I was pulled under. By what, I don’t know, seeing as that my bathtub was only a foot and a half deep and about 3 feet wide, and this is me being generous.
What the hell could possibly be dragging me down a drain. A better question would be how the hell do I even fit in the damn thing. I felt as though I had gone through a door. Everything was pitch black, I felt movement but I couldn’t move myself, whoever or whatever pulled me under had an iron grip and was not about to let me go. Let it be noted that the had, although forceful in purpose, seemed soft and smooth to the touch, even though we were under water, or at least I think I’m underwater. Through my eyelids I could see colors both bright and beautiful. They reminded me of when you get hit across the face and all of the sudden these colorful circles would dance around your face.
It was strange that I couldn’t smell anything, I’m usually really big on smell. I couldn’t hear anything either I heard water splashing but I was neither wet, hot or cold. “What kind of fuckery is this,'' I thought to myself. Oh yea did I mention I couldn’t talk either? So any thought of asking my captive, “hey asshole, where exactly am I going butt ass naked”, was obviously out of the question. I finally hit the ground on what felt like dirt and rocks. It felt plush, the ground was soft and moist, not a great combination for the face but better than landing on concrete. I stood up immediately assuming the fighting position, I looked like I was in the middle of realizing I was high as a kite, knowing damn and full well I was acting ridiculous because I was high. I was ready, ready for what exactly I didn't know, but whatever brought me out of my bathtub was not about to catch me off guard, not if I could help it. Whatever happened, I was going down swinging.
I took a good luck around me, and just that quickly, all of the fight left my breath. The scenery before me captivated me and rendered me still. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Fields of grass and several different types of flowers laid before me for miles. Daisies, daffodils, sunflowers, you name it, all bloomed vibrantly and filled the air with rich fluorescent smells, and saturated the scene with vivid colors. It was as if the earth began and would end in this one place. The garden of Eden was a child’s coloring project posted on the refrigerator compared to what I was looking at. Further past the flowers was a mountain. The contrast between its snowy white peak mixed with the dark colors of the earth with the greens reds and oranges of the field, made the scenario all the more picturesque and surreal. Just when I was beginning to notice that there was no sign of life I noticed butterflies, at least that’s what they looked like, fluttering about I noticed that they had kaleidoscope colored wings that were transparent. This contrasted with the black details and definition of their antennas.
They were beautiful works of art that flew majestically. Unbeknownst to them, I envied them. Not only were they indescribably beautiful, but they were free, free of burden, free of remorse, debt, hatred and all of the things that plagued me on the inside. I bet they didn’t even know how beautiful they were or how pure they seemed. After all, how could something so beautiful carry any sort of malevolence. How I longed to be this free and transparent with my surroundings. I wanted to feel anxiety free, stress free. Perhaps if given time, this too can happen for me. “One day”, I muttered to myself. Just as I was about to grab this so called butterfly, as I was mere inches away from it, it popped right in front of me, as if I was blowing bubbles. It disappeared completely and not a single trace of it was left. “This day is just getting weirder and weirder”, I said to no one in particular.
I decided to walk around and see if I found anything to give me a clue as to where I was. The atmosphere was so clean, warm and inviting. I couldn’t really describe it. I was feeling everything at once. Happy, excited, wanted. It had felt as though no matter how nervous I should be in the not knowing where I was, nothing mattered more than being in this very place right here, right now. I had noticed that not a single piece of trash littered the ground anywhere. How the city paled in comparison to this paradise. There was no smell of waste, no debris, nothing even remotely unattractive.
Whoever came up with this place, must’ve been God himself. I saw a stream and walked towards it wanting to see if I recognized any animals. It was a dumb idea, I know but call me optimistic. I walked over to the bank, knelt down as carefully as I could not wanting to fall in the small body of water and risk getting wet this time. I looked at my reflection and it suddenly hit me. Why wasn’t I wet? Or cold? Or naked? I looked over at my reflection closer this time and saw that I was wearing what I could only describe as a large sheet cloth with an off white color.
The dress wasn't accentuating my curves at all, but nor did it make me look or feel any less feminine. I had just realized right then and there that this was the first time that I had seen myself all day. Lately I had felt so disgusted and disappointed in my life that I had left the thoughts of vanity to elsewhere. I brushed my hair aside and tucked it behind my ear. I had just recently cut it into a bob hoping that was the change I needed, sadly it was not. I got a good look at my tan skin, very smooth and blemish free, my small head in which I saw the high cheekbones, a plump bottom lip,a nose that I finally grew into and hazel eyes with a slight hint of yellow with an eerie glow. “What a minute”, I said silently as I leaned in closer to the water and was shook. My eyes were glowing. There was no way of unseeing what I saw. Not only did I see the yellow glow beam from my eyes. I could feel it. It felt as though my eyes were so bright from within me that it bothered me to have them open for too long.
I stood up quickly as if not looking in to the water would make what I saw any less true. I walked backwards, turned around on my heel and once turned around, tripped over a vine on the ground. My hand landed on what felt like a shoe. I looked up, effectively shaking the dirt off of my chin and saw a rather shiny shoe, both sturdy and leather. I looked up with hesitation and saw the most beautiful deep sea green eyes stare right back at me. The owner wasn’t half bad either. As I steadied myself back to my feet I noticed he was excessively tall probably around 6’4, if I had to guess with strong arms, a puffed up chest, steal muscles, and long hair, right around shoulder length but definitely longer than mine.
He was about two shades darker than me in skin tone. with a straight nose, high cheekbones and powerful legs that could probably outrun a horse. Yup, this dude definitely took his fitness seriously. He looked calm, yet a little too smug for my liking. I thought I’d take the initiative in the conversation seeing as we both stood what felt like an eternity staring at each other and neither one of us said a word. Although I have to admit my stare was more like ogling him with googly eyes, his was more out of curiosity and yet, with a slight hint of satisfaction. Almost as if he had caught what he was looking for. “So is the part where you try to kidnap me and I fight you to the death or what”, sure that’s what you say to a guy twice your size. He cocked his head to the side, it reminded me of when you were disciplining a puppy and it didn’t understand what you were saying. “I am confused, do you think me capable of hurting you,''he said calmly and soothingly. I could hear this guy talk to me all day. It definitely was not the answer I was expecting, but I’ll roll with it for now.
“Well I just fell through my shower drain into a magical universe with a Thor looking wanna be I don’t know, so my guess is yes Hercules”. The scrunched look on his brow indicated how annoyed he was at my description of him. “I am not Hercules, my name is Magales, warrior of the Western Pavilion and I am here on an assignment of which I intend to complete”. If his physique wasn’t going to make me like him even more, his name sure as hell would do the trick. He was sexy, in an ancient kind of way. His body was young looking but he looked wiser beyond his years. He looked to be about 30 years of age, but could pass off as someone in their mid twenties. The man named Magales folded his arms and held his position, letting it be known that he wasn’t budging. “Oh yea and what sort of assignment is that? Cause from over here it looks like your trying to win a staring contest”. He took two steps and was meet inches from my face. I was stunned at how broodily gorgeous he was. “ I am here to return you back to the land where you belong. With that being said, Welcome home, Guardian.
0 notes