Here is a character design for an idea I’ve been tinkering around with that I might act upon  at some point! I call him Perry!

Perry is sort of a deconstructive look at the concept of the standard mute JRPG protagonist with no apparent personality besides metrosexuality. Unlike most of those wigs with unsettlingly noodle-like legs, Perry has a personality and sensible hair! 

Perry is a quiet kid who lives in the isolated town of Walrus’ Maw, a tightly nit community composed mostly of the workers at the nearby oil rig and their families. Perry spends most of his days alone, his father works until long after Perry is asleep at the rig, and his mother works as the town’s only pilot, and due to the lack of roads, the only real way out of, and usually into, the town.

He doesn’t have many friends besides his neighbour Arkham, who is usually exploring the nearby woods in their spare time, for a reason that he could never really fully understand. For all these reasons, Perry is quite bored and slightly sad most of the time, with nothing but a large collection of boring old books for boring old adults to entertain him in the loosest definition of the word.

(His body proportions kind of look like something out of Zelda: Wind Waker I guess, that was unintentional, but I can’t really complain, Wind Waker was one of my favourite games as a kid!)

“September 3rd 1678,  

We finally hit hospitable land today, an event which, after three consecutive days of heavy storms, I personally take as a good sign of things to come. While I have not gotten the chance to get off the boat myself, the captain sent out a group to explore the area and see if it was safe a few hours back. 

I have some suspicions about the purpose of this voyage. I admit my knowledge about the voyage may be a bit lacking, seeing as my entry aboard the ship was dubiously sanctioned, but I still find the idea of a captain sending people to scout out an area in most contexts a bit odd. Should we be expecting something dangerous on this trip? 

I will write more about this situation later today, as I suspect something shady is going down here.

-W.R.”

“September 3rd 1678 (Night Time),

The search party didn’t come back, while I am trying really hard to think of alternative explanations, I can’t help but assume something on this island ended the poor fools’ lives. The captain seems to think the same thing, as we have waited until night to get on the island to gather supplies. I cannot fathom why waiting would help in that case, but regardless, the false sense of security calms me the slightest amount.

I can’t help but notice an abundance of almost unnatural seeming tunnels into the ground. Seeing them my anxious mind is riddled with memories of the frightening tales my grandmother used to tell me before I slept about the Ignus. 

The Ignus were supposedly a fearsome kingdom in the days of myth, it was ultimately driven to pointless bloodshed in its endless search for glory. They took every colony they crossed that did not surrender in fear without fault for years. Eventually they came across the home of Zyco, the god of Flora’s chosen people. There they slaughtered every single soul they came across, male or female, old or young, it did not matter to them, they killed them all. 

This Angered Zyco to the point of furiousness, and in this state of rage he put a curse on all the land the Ignus had claim too. In the weeks following the massacre all the plant-life in their territory shrivelled, and then weeds and vines ripped out of the earth, sprawling across what used to be towns. 

Left with no other options, the Ignus went underground, scavenging for any roots they could find and trying to get substance from the abundant amounts of rocks they found. Eventually they took after the moles, digging out caverns connected by tunnels not unlike the ones I see here today. In this miserable and pathetic state their eyes grew weak and small from the perpetual darkness of the caves, and their ears grew long and sensitive so they could hear and catch vermin to eat. They only ever left these caves at night to hunt, so that the sunlight didn’t blind them. 

Bless my Grandmother’s kind old heart, but she did tell some rather unusual, sometimes even frightening stories to me as a child, they probably scarred me for life, or at the very least contributed to my over-active, paranoid imagination. 

I hear some rustling nearby, writing this I can’t help feeling anxious, I’ll go search for the source of the sound, so I can put my anxious thoughts to rest for a while.

-W.R.”

“August 24th 1678,  

I have been at sea for 15 days as of this writing, and besides one unfortunate run-in with a band of pirates, my social interactions have been limited to those that have taken place with the rest of my crew. I fear the notable lack of amusements aboard the vessel may be starting to take a toll on my mental wellbeing. I am writing this journal (which some my less civilized crew members think is a fancy word for a diary.) as a distraction from this god forsaken vessel, although I presume any relief gained from writing in this will be temporary at best, my admittedly optimistic outlook on this journey leads me to think we will almost certainly hit land before I grow bored of this activity. 

If you are reading this and you possess no knowledge of me, allow me to explain. My name is Will Rockhopper, before I boarded this vessel, dubbed “The Argonaut”, I was a citizen of Clearbreeze Island, the last major human settlement in the Vast Reef. Clearbreeze has been quickly collapsing into madness in recent years, coal supplies are dwindling, and with it so is the power supply for the majority of human technology. I always said coal was an idiotic fuel source, but no man dared listen to me, looking at them now, I laugh at the fate their collective ignorance brought.

All of these developments aside, today has been a day unworthy of being written about in this journal, my cabin-mate is off drinking their sorrows, and everybody else is on about the same level of incompetence regarding their activities. The same scenario as every other day and night, regardless of the hour. 

Actually, on second thought, the boredom might be taking a faster toll on my mental health then I stated earlier in this entry, my GODS do I hope that we hit land soon, I can only take so many acts of buffoonery.

-W.R.”

Another character bio for Quasi-Science Theatre 8.4! Yay! (Speaking of which, I finally decided on a title, as you can see!) 

This fella’ right here goes by the name Tali! Tali is the vessel of the Devil’s most unskilled employee, who is temporarily stuck at the receiving end of one of his own contracts’s downsides, forcing him to benefit the Reginald family in any way they desire for the next twelve generations, and at no personal gain, to boot! 

While Nocks was still an infant, his father had the bizarre thought that a hell-spawn would make a good companion for the growing boy, and deigned a robotic shell for the demon to operate in, to limit his powers to the point of being something less then omnipotent.(But only slightly less, after all, what is the point of having a demon if you aren’t going to abuse the fuck out of its powers?) 

Nocks received him as a birthday present the following year, and a one-sided friendship has grown ever since. Tali couldn’t be anymore unamused by this turn of events, and inconveniences Nocks at every opportunity that isn’t technically breaking the contract, as an attempt to make Nocks realize “Hey! This dude LOATHES me!”, but to no avail. Nocks’s sort of stuck in his own world full of unicorns and rainbow flavoured tacos, to him they are basically the bestest of friends in the whole entire cosmos! 

Meet Nocks Reginalds. 

Nocks is technically a genius, if you believe his IQ tests, but geniuses usually have wisdom raining out of their asses, so I’d be hesitant to use the word in this context. Nocks is the sort of person who would be able to invent killer toasters but not realize it is an absolutely horrendous idea to actually make them. 

It just so happens that Nocks is also the heir to the largest developer of experimental technologies in the world, and will be supplying most of the military’s equipment in  twenty years or so.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

(This is the concept for one of the main characters in an idea for a webcomic that I will probably be doing soon if I don’t keep on forgetting about it.) 

Literally hotheaded dude, I like drawing aliens, they fill up most of my sketchbook, people are just so boring to draw you know? 

Fun fact: I was half way through the drawing before I realized I was still using a mechanical pencil for those heavy thick lines and not a pen, so this will probably smudge the opposite page like I bitch and be all smudgy when I close the book. :| Yaaay.