Yo, we've got many names, but Entropy is a good default. Any pronouns. We are plural, check the carrd.
This is a portfolio of sorts, where most of my art will be posted once we get more confident with it, along with some independent world building projects.
Join our server!
@entropysuniverse is my main and full of reblogs
@a-coelacanth-makes-stuff is our, mostly Coela's art and writing request blog
#👗 Outfits
# 🦴 Bodies
#🧠 Behaviors
#🗣 Conlangs
#🏛 Architecture
#⏹ Pixal Art
#🎮 Game stuff
#📇 OC bio
#🪪 OC art
#💥 Art Fight
Setting Tags:
#🐾 Crumbs and Creatures
#🪽 Iridescent Marks
#🧪 Cracked Dome Lab
#🗝 Keys of the Gods
#🌠 Claws and Maws in the Sky
OC Tags: (Most to be added)
#🌃 Firstform
#💣 Rax
#🐟 Coela
Worldbuilding Project Lore Docs & Descriptions
[Organized by how much I've worked on them]
Crumbs & Creatures - A Cookie Run au that barely looks like Cookie Run anymore. Uses Kingdom and Ovenbreak to make the setting, puts in all of Witch's Castle, Cookie Wars, and Kakao cookies, then adds in places from Puzzle World and Ovensmash. There's 10k words, almost 600 characters and a family tree with nearly 300. [Please direct lore questions to the dedicated blog]
Iridescent Marks - Orriginally an MLP au that soon evolved into "What if real life but humans all died from the plague, and magical creatures took their place?" Overgrown (Game) takes place in this universe.
Cracked Dome Lab - Pokemon based idea, what if there was an island that made humans partially or fully pokemon and vise versa? How would it effect infrastructure, laws, even clothing!
Keys of the Gods - Game. Single player, multiplayer, and community driven sides. Single player is somewhat like Minecraft, though uses a hexagon "block" system. The community driven side is dependent on players crafting, building, and creating new things, which mods may give "upgrades" (less laggy models) to. Mish mash old OLD ideas.
This is a fic that will have multiple acts, this one has been done for a couple weeks, the second act being in the works!
Warnings: Blood, gore, rot, maggots, self hate, and self harm.
Word count: 4,525
Parfait shot awake, almost pushing her and her twin brother out of the hammock they've slept in since they were big enough to sleep without their dad. She still had the taste of souring flesh on her tongue and the smell of fresh rot in her nostrils. It's been over twenty years, but the first taste of her, or at least half of her, kind still stuck with her like a leech. Her breathing was a little heavy, and her guts felt weird.
"Parf..?" Trifle said softly, reaching to the other with worry.
"I-I'm fine, just a nightmare, a stupid one." She said in return. "I'm going to get some water, I'll be back." Trifle accepted that answer and curled back into the blankets as the other got out of the hammock, hooves clacking onto the wood floor that hasn't changed since the pair moved out years ago.
The same wood she trotted on the day her fate was sealed.
She stepped into the kitchen, hands finding the cupboard with the cups with an ingrained practice, even if she accidentally reached too high sometimes. She got the jug of water from the fridge and poured a glass, leaning on the counter with a nervous air around her. Her leg bounced as her nostrils burned. Something was eating away at her mind as of late; the buried feeling of not being who she sees resurfacing after years.
She hadn't had the motivation to even make the music she used to make without issue in almost two years, a half finished song buried somewhere she'd not bothered to look in a while.
She could smell magic and the sweet iron smell of someone's wound, the creature in her mind telling her to find the dying prey and feast. It had been growing louder, gnawing at her mind like termites on wood.
She jumped at her father saying her name, spilling the glass of water and nearly dropping the glass itself.
"Dad? Why are you up so late?" Parfait asked, scrambling to clean up.
"I was attempting some sewing but I got myself pretty good with the needle." He showed his hand, the last digit having a wound that would make sense for a needle, but only on the larger side…
"Leather needle?" Parfait questioned, mentally scolding herself as she realized she was drooling like a dog. Bad thoughts, sour ones.
"I was trying to experiment, thank you very much." He retorted playfully, grabbing the first aid kit and getting a bandage on his finger before helping his daughter clean. "And why might you be up so late?"
"I had a… nightmare." Her face drooped, and she knew her father could tell. Sundae was more attentive than most fathers in the republic. She never told him everything that happened, but he knew enough.
"…I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, my sunshine." He said softly, motioning to invite his daughter to a hug,
She took it, and the two sat in comfortable silence, Parfait trying her best to not drool, the creature in the back of her mind going wild, wanting release. She hated that vile part of herself, the part that made her stomach twist into knots in disgust.
"With all your idol money, you can afford a therapist, you should do that." Sundae said softly, rubbing circles on the scars on Parfait's back like he did on that day over twenty years ago. When she was no longer the same child she had left home as; having less.
"I've been trying to find one." She replied, knowing it was a lie. She only lied to keep other's happy, really, she felt a twinge of shame, swallowing the spit that threatened to spill over the smell of blood.
It was about fifteen minutes later by the clock on the stove, but it felt like five, when Sundae released the hug, giving Parfait a goodnight-forehead-kiss, and going to bed himself.
Something within her said she didn't deserve the kindness.
The meetup with the others was tomorrow. She needed to get more rest to seem normal.
Trifle complained softly as Parfait slipped back into the hammock.
The feeling of soft cloth and the twin she was practically glued at the hip with as a kid right beside her was much needed comfort.
But something told her she shouldn't have it.
▾ ▾
Parfait sat at the antique dresser, carefully putting in her contacts, then working on her makeup. The routine was familiar, but felt wrong. Like this wasn't her, nor just an extension of her. The beautiful creature taking shape in front of her was not her, that the lovely being in the mirror was just a facade and that a monster hid underneath. She tried to ignore it as she kept with the routine. It kept eating at her mind, like maggots to meat. She tried to shake it off, she tried and tried.
Whispers of her impurity swirled in her mind, telling her the thing she saw was not her. It could not be her, for a monster is ugly, rotting, and vile, the opposite of the pure creature in the mirror in every way. She finished her foundation and moved to blush, she was sure she would feel better when she was done; that the beauty would feel less foreign when it was finished.
That gnawing feeling had only worsened as she kept working, and now, was telling her she herself was rotten like the thing she craved. That she did not deserve this false beauty. That she should not lie to her fans, to pretend to be something this pretty yet be so vile, that she should show the rot that infested her to her very core, to gut herself on stage and let them gawk at the rot spilling from her body, so they knew the creature she was deep inside.
To show the people who looked up to her, the true rot that they idolized, the mold and infestation that she was and she craved. To gut herself and lay her mind out on a stage, to show them all the pain that had molded her into who she is, and to flay her insides in a vile display of rot and infestation, of ripped away purity and growing up too fast against her will, of hate and pain and blood and gore and viscera of for impure and unholy body.
Her brother snapped her out of her spiral, shaking her shoulder.
"We don't have to go, we can just stay here, dad won't mind." Trifle said in a comforting tone, which he used every time she was upset ever since they were children.
"I-I'm alright, I just don't… think my full makeup fits this time." She tilted her head at the mirror, the shy blue eyes staring back at her felt more like a stranger each and every moment she stared.
And each and every moment she stared, she wanted to fight it. To bite and crush it's too-perfect face into something else, to tear out every organ, every ligament, all the viscera in a grand display of hate of perfection and purity she will never be allowed to reach.
"How about I do your makeup, and you do mine? It is a sort of genre celebration, and we're twins, that's normal for us!" Trifle half joked, spinning his sister around on the chair she sat, getting into the vanity for makeup wipes for the other.
"That… works." Parfait said quietly, still processing the thoughts that became so much more violent in the past day alone.
Trifle handed her the wipes, and she got the foundation and half finished blush off her face, glancing at the mirror, seeing someone still too beautiful to be her. She was not pure nor pretty like the face that stared back at her.
Parfait's twin started to work on her makeup, starting with white foundation, then went in with black eyeliner, throwing in red as well. She felt the small brush go over her cheeks in what she presumed were tear lines, like one of Trifle's earlier eras as Rockstar.
She turned to the mirror, seeing tar black tears, eyeliner that looked more like heavy shadows under her lashes, and lines of red that somehow put it together in an almost horror monsterish way.
Still too beautiful, she thought, before Trifle got her attention to do his makeup.
She was slow, unsure about half of what she was doing, but he looked nice when she was done. Much more beautiful than her, even with how he unknowingly tried to hide the rot she knew was there.
The ride to the venue was almost a blur, Parfait just quietly following Rockstar.
The two decided, or well, Trifle did, Parfait didn't care, that they'd switch up some stuff they wore, to match their makeup. Rockstar now wearing one of his twin's brightly colored jackets and Parfait in one of his old leather jackets.
If it weren't for their faces and demeanor, no one could tell they switched aesthetics for this fan meetup.
Getting into the building was a blur of noise and color, not quieting the creature at all.
The back room was worse, everyone getting along, laughing too loud, almost yelling like a monster wasn't sitting in the corner, stewing in her own rotted mind, thoughts of blood whirling in her head, impure and staining. She didn't get why they allowed someone like her here, among the pure and beautiful. She was sure it was pity that she didn't deserve.
Little hands climbed into her lap, a small snout poking round her jacket. Black Lemonade's pet, an opossum named Boba dressed up in a frilly little sundress. She slowly pet the cute thing, her mind clearing up somewhat. Black Lemonade came over not too soon after that, sitting beside the other on the couch.
"Rocky over there said you had a nightmare," She said bluntly, motioning to Rockstar. "You've been out of it almost all day, you think you can do your panels?"
"I can, I'm just… not used to doing stuff around… so many people. I usually do smaller venues or live streams." Parfait responded; she wasn't lying, but it wasn't the whole truth.
"Alright, but your QnA-demo-annoucement panel thing is in fifteen."
Parfait forgot about that. This has been planned for almost a year, and she has done nothing but release scrapped music for longer. A pit formed as she realized she had nothing to show.
"I'll be ready for that, don't worry." She lied, yet again. Black Lemonade just shrugged, watching her pet with more love than a mother.
Time was a blur of her heart in her head and her guts trying to come out of her throat.
They're all going to know. They're all going to see the rot, the gore, the pain, the impurities, the gross visage of a monster meant to be slaughtered. They will hate her, they will, she knows it. There's no way they wouldn't see the souring monster in front of them, hiding behind all the lies of beauty.
She stepped on stage, her fans quiet, staring at her. They see the impurities, the rot, the infestation in her core. It made her sick. She felt like tearing herself open right then and there. Let them witness the molding gore within her skin, the maggots that writhe within her and hate her as the monster she is.
A hand shook her out of her quiet panic.
"They want to know about the hiatus and the outfit." It was Glitter, Rockstar probably sent her to keep an eye on her.
"O-oh! I've just been… working on something. The outfit is unrelated!" She added hastily. "Me and Rockstar decided to switch aesthetics for the fun of it, something new!" They knew she was lying, she knew it, she knew it, she knew it, she could smell the rot in her breath, her heartbeat in her brain and her guts wanting out.
She did her best to appear normal, to just seem a little shy of the large crowd like always, but she knew they could see the monster, she knew it. They were keeping quiet so she would not run, surely, why else would they let such a monster stay.
Parfait barely held her mask as the actual questions started, apparently it was good enough for Glitter to leave, likely to find someone else to watch Parfait before one of her panels started.
Then.
"Can we get a teaser about the new album?" One fan asked, Parfait recognized the shirt as one of her earliest album's cover. She had to make up something fast, she had to keep the monster hidden, she had to keep them happy lest they slay the vile, impure monster in front of them.
The silence was too long, Parfait's breathing hevying enough to be picked up by the microphone. As soon as she realized, she thought of something, perhaps saying these words like they were apart of a song in the works, will satiate their need to be heard, perhaps she'd even get away with it, people remembering it as a scrapped song too different to her normal style to be done.
She picked up the microphone, bringing it closer while looking to the floor, her breathing louder, before letting the creature gnawing in her mind loose, to let it bleed out this need to speak of such things. To satiate it's need to tell her she was just the rotting monster she knew she was but pretended not to be.
"The perfect being in the mirror is too beautiful to be her, a monster hiding behind facades of purity and beauty, ripe for the gutting on the stage for all to see the rot she is, the rot she craves. The mold and maggots within her rotten flesh squirm for release, for to spill upon spotless wood of pure souls and beauty, to soil the bright into something of rot and decay in her own vile visage.
"To show the pain that had robbed her of purity and beauty, to show the world the rot that consumed her and the stained thoughts she bares, to tell the world of her bloodied claws, impure mind, body, and soul, of the pure creature that stares at her in the mirror and taunts her, shames her for loosing her purity, that is not her, is not the monster that drools like a dog for the rot and decay within her, for the pure creature in the mirror is not the beast that wants to eat, consume, defile."
She paused, her breath becoming stuttery, her eyes and nostrils stinging. The words kept flowing, like someone opening a dam, like she was bleeding out her pain.
"The monster wants for all to see the rot she is for she is no pure creature that deserves the kindness. The impure beast wishes only for her pain to splay her alive, for all to read and take no pity seeing her rotting gore fall from her stomach, to see all the impurities and vileness the creature holds, to see the price of losing beauty and purity, fore the vile, impure creature has never been holy and forgets the days of purity she once had, she wishes for to be a beast no longer, but purity is something one cannot regain, so to be gutted for the masses to see the maggots in her body for all the rot she is, the rot she craves, and the rot she consumes.
"Fore it's festering maggot children to consume it's rotting, vile, molding mass of wasted meat, fore it's impure body to spill upon the stage of purity and beauty, the monster wants for no kindness, nor love, nor mercy, nor happiness, nor joy, for it does not deserve them, for it is not pure, it is not kind, it is rotting from within, it is just decay's visage in an unholy walking form, meant to be gutted upon a stage so it can atone for it's loss of it's beauty and purity, to feel the pain that they once felt in one last act of impurity unholy; to spill out all of the blood it caused to spill in tenfold, to find nonexistent proof it was once beautiful, pure, and deserving of love."
She pauses, seeing black eyeliner mixed with tears fall onto the table she just now realized she was leaning over with her other arm. She looked up at the silent crowd, silently staring at the monster on stage.
She ran.
They saw it, they saw it, they really did, they saw the monster, under the faux beauty, they saw it, they saw her rotting, infested insides, they should have gutted her then and there, splayed her as she wished, taken no pity on the beast and no mercy for she's a vile beast that deserves no love nor kindness.
She bumped into someone, but just kept running, tears streaming from her face, she had to hide, they're going to find her.
Somehow, she made her way back to the lounge, running in, then locking herself in a bathroom, falling to the floor as the sobs caught up with the tears. Faux tears, she's sure, a monster like her should feel no sadness.
She was just a rotten beast, the creature in her mind was right, that's all she'll ever be, a rotten, impure, vile, rotting monster. That's all she was, the beast in the stories that the heroes killed for glory and greatness, that's all she was, an impure monster for another's story.
Her guts wanted to come out of her mouth and her heartbeat was loud in her head. Her body felt hot as she breathed heavy, she took off the jacket, then the tank top underneath, tossing them to the side.
She could feel the wings she once bore, she could feel them, even though both were torn from her back when she became impure, when the blood in her mouth overpowered every other smell. When she was barely aware of anything but pain, a wild animal, a beast. Purity becoming impure and becoming infected by the rot of monsters, the seed of mold and decay implanting within her very core as she was pinned, once pure now a vile visage of rot and decay.
She choked on her own spit, hacking up nothing, her guts wanting out more and more, for the rot to be expelled from her gross body.
Her wings, her purity.
Lost in the same putrid night she barely survived; she was starting to wish she hadn't. She has to live impure and rotted, maggots in her insides like decaying animals, she was just an animal, a wild beast, a monster, rotted to the core, that's all she was, truly. The pure creature that stared at her in the mirror simply mocked her and her lost purity.
That beautiful face mocking the monster.
That pure face, devoid of rot or impurities, clean from decay or death. Knowing no pain, no infection, never smelling meat, rot, sweat or tears.
Parfait's fist was covered in glass shards, the twisted sweet-iron smell filing her nostrils and lungs, making her feel more and more like the wild beast she knew she was. A beast meant to be hunted and displayed as a horror, a warning to everyone that she was nothing but rotten meat and impure thoughts and actions.
Her breathing became labored, and her claws stared griping at anything, anything at all, anything to rip into.
She staggered back, her brain filled completely by her own heartbeat and pain from everywhere, she could barely register the blinding lights nor the banging anymore.
The maggots in it's guts wanted out, wanted to be released, rot to be seen by everyone, the monster's true form revealed in all it's rotten, vile impurity. To be seen as what it is and not the pure creature that mocked it in the mirror, for it was the opposite of everything holy, pure, and beautiful; for it was a monster of decay and infestation.
Pain shot though it's brain as it's claws dug into it's belly, clawing at the maggots squirming in it's intestines and stomach, it's breaths coming in ragged gasps as it's rotting blood spilled though it's fingers, every sense clouded by pain and only pain, all this impure monster should feel. Pain to atone for it's impurities, for it's rot, for it's decay and festering maggots, that's it.
With every scratch at the impure flesh, its claws sunk deeper, blood pouring faster as it's shaking gasps did too, every one feeling stolen from someone else.
It clawed at its own throat with a desperate breath, choking on something like the day it's purity was stolen. It coughed out a raspy breath, the maggots within it's belly squirming more wildly, not pleased their release was delayed.
It scratched at it's stomach more and more, more and more rotting fluids spilling through it's hands, down the pants the monster still wore, soaking into the deep blue fabric, staining it like it did to everything. It's breath were still only desperate, stolen; it was not supposed to be breathing, it needed to display it's guts, to bleed it's rotting vile blood dry.
Something tore it's hands away from it's belly, just before the rot could be displayed, noise that wasn't the buzz of pain or it's heartbeat slowly filtered into it's mind, but barely registered as it's ragged gasps were followed by jerking it's hands back to get the maggots out, out, out. They needed to get out. The rot needed to spill, that's all this monster was good for, that's it, that's all, to rot and die, to spill it's impure guts to the crowd, to be the thing that is hated in a story, to be the thing that no one cares for, the thing the hero kills on his way to glory and fame, then rot and decay.
It's eyes drifted to mirror shards, barely able to register another face past the pain and heartbeat.
The pure, beautiful face still mocking it. Taunting this impure, rotten monster right when it was going to spill it's guts to atone but was stopped.
The monster's gasping breaths got faster, heart beating just that much faster in it's head, the pain fading and letting anger of the most vile kind take it's place.
It growled between choked breaths, trying to get out of whatever restrained it to attack the pure creature.
It needed to bite, it needed to claw her, it needed to give her the same pain it felt as it's purity was torn away from it. It needed to claw and maim, it needed to turn her into viscera, into impure decay, to chunks of gore it would swallow down like a starving animal, letting the pure become impure and rot in it's belly with the maggots that swarmed and ate at the molding meat that was the monster's guts, the impure rot that surrounded the beast yet evaded her, the pure creature in the mirror. The thing that followed it since its wings were torn from its back, the thing that used to stay away but now stares it down like it were just a misbehaving dog.
It was just a misbehaving animal, beast. Allowing itself to be stopped from atoning for the loss of purity and beauty; stopped from showing the ugly, vile, impure rot and decay that it was made of, to show the world it lied to.
With a growl between a gasping breath, it tore it's hand away from the restraint, barely able to dig it's claws into it's belly before it was restrained again. The pain that shot through it's simple mind telling it that it was almost there.
The maggots.
The rot.
The mold.
The decay.
It needed to spill from it's stomach to atone for losing it's purity and beauty.
It needed to open it's stomach, it needed to empty it's body of rotting meat.
It needed to atone for it's loss of purity.
It struggled against the restraints, the pain fading as it's impure body's natural painkillers kicked in.
"No…" It choked out between sobs and ragged breaths. "Out… out… get them out!" It growled, the restraints holding it well, even with the constant pulling and jerking away from them. "The rot needs to get out, the maggots, the mold, out!" It barely registered voices past the heartbeat in it's head. "Let this monster gut itself!" It sputtered out. "Let this monster atone for it's impurities!" It pleaded, the beautiful creature still mocking it in the shattered glass.
The pain faded to a dull hum and the beast roared in anger, it pulled on the restraints harder, trying to get the pain it deserved and needed to have to atone.
It's hazy vision slowly went dark, the monster's growls and heaving breaths slowing and weakening.
It hadn't atoned, it needed to atone, it needed to get rid of the rot and maggots still trapped and writhing in it's body, it had to atone for it's impurities, to—
⋆⋆
The impure monster slumped over, having passed out, those holding it slowly setting it on the floor.
"Parfait?! Parfait!" Rockstar cried, shaking his sister to try and wake her up.
"Paramedics are on their way, someone get that clotting!" Black Lemonade said, the group around Parfait nodding, someone handing Rockstar the tank top his sister had thrown away, and loosely folded it, putting it on the wound, putting a lot of his weight on it to help it clot. His stomach churned and he felt like he was going to throw up. What did he miss? How did he not see the signs of his own twin's mental health being so bad she tried gutting herself in a damn convention bathroom!?
Tears started to flow, sobs following not too far behind. The adrenaline from before no longer keeping him focused on the now, so he just started to process everything that happened in the last ten minutes.
✰✰
The paramedics allowed Trifle to ride with Parfait, on the account they're twins.
It felt so… surreal.
This morning, she was a little off, but he assumed she was just nervous like she usually is before bigger events. How did he not recognize anything that pointed to her doing this??
He felt like an awful brother, not noticing when his sister was obviously distressed and needing help.
He choked back another sob, staring at the blood seeping though the tank top.
Why did this happen? How did this happen?
He wanted to talk to anyone he knew, but he knew he'd end up seeing the drama this will cause and he doesn't want to make himself more miserable than he already is. The others would update him on anything, anyway.
He whimpered, curling up beside his unconscious sister, worrying about everything at this point.
What would their fans think?
Most importantly, how would he explain this to his dad?
This is for our au, Crumbs and Creatures. We'll link to this every new post about it we do to make sure people can access the following disclaimers and the full lore doc if they want to read it.
The following disclaimers are the first thing seen in the doc, but most people don't want to go off site, which is reasonable, so all of that is here for ya.
Dividers will be redone later.
This work is intended for mature audiences only, not the demographic of the actual Cookie Run franchise. It is recommended that you are over 17 years of age and in a good headspace to read this in full as there are many darker themes covered. [Note: as of April 2026, these themes are minimal but the warning will stay up as this is updated]
I do not own Cookie Run; this is a fan project unrelated to Cookie Run as a franchise or Devsisters. This is only a fan project that uses Cookie Run lore and characters and combines them with new ideas, lore, and characters to make something new, for a different audience. This is so far from any canon in any game, that a simple name change for characters and places would likely make it it's own thing. I will never make money directly off of this project, but I will have it as a part of my artist's portfolio because of the several years of dedication that this has taken.
One of the themes of this project is mirroring reality, and as a result, this will contain darker themes, scientific diagrams, descriptions of mating rituals, and occasionally gorey or violent imagery related to events within the story.
No warnings will be given beyond this point.
Best case for this work is that Devsis hires me to help make a game aimed at adults, but that'll never happen.
Be cautious, be careful, take breaks as you need, and remember that you are loved, so make sure to take care of yourself.
Happy reading!
Ellipsus makes it easy for anyone to write together.
Devsis hearing us approach the HQ with millions of words worth of worldbuilding for an au that's genuinely got better writing and rep than anything they've ever done, made with spare time and energy drinks by a disabled system who obsesses over one of the characters they used for 5 minutes then threw away, decided to overhall the lore of every kingdom and character they neglected and/or just did dirty, and wrote all of this for fun without any gain or reason to do it other than to *BRAG*
Ellipsus makes it easy for anyone to write together.
Ya'll should read out 10.5k word lore doc wip yes it is a cookie run au, yes the worldbuilding is intense, yes there's a worked out magic system, no we've not written it down yet!
Ellipsus makes it easy for anyone to write together.
If anyone wants to help, feel free to ask about doing so!!
Are we making up a whole language we probably won't be able to fully speak cus the species it's for has a syrinx and a slightly longer mouth than a human instead of learning one we said we'd learn? Yes.
Got any conlangs you'd like to share right now (as of answering this ask)?
We've only got the first step done, which is just planning it out, but have our writing on snowy! It is LONG, and we clearly play favorites, but the next step is trying to get phonetics and lettering, then after that, grammar. Have some new rambles we need to add to the lore doc before that stuff.
Funnily enough, they have the most grammatical "genders"(5) yet they have no kind of gender roles! They are pretty much: child, adult without kids, adult with kids(birthed them), adult with kids(didn't birth them), and wolf, which is more like a gender "modifier" but also kinda a different one. Then they have a system of if they're talking about two of the same grammatical gender, with slight differences and notes on top and bottom, it's complex to learn but easy to read once you know it, which is it's purpose.
As this is for a cookie run au, we're using character examples.
Crunchy would be considered a trans man, in English he goes by masc terms, but in snowy, he is a mother and a wolf!
Cacao is a mother, a king, and goes by most pronouns, with a favor towards feminine ones
Caramel is a mother and father even tho she's only ever sired, so pretty much bigender
they also combine up to four character in a box shape for more complex words.
yes it will be inspired by Korean and Japanese.
Forgot to mention, we've been using we/us/our more often as of late, don't mind that
Main Bitterdough (Cacaoian) language. Sharp lines easily carved into trees or rocks (V, Z, N, for example). Louder, sharper tones to be easily heard, like barks or yips.
Think something like nortic runes.
It’s most like Russian or german, with the harsh words some would think sounds “angry”, and occasional “missing” words that are just not in snowy, as they were just left out when speaking to keep their points short and concise in the harsh environment where there’s only a few seconds between life and death.
It started lower in the mountains, carved into rocks and trees, getting really complex, but, as they moved into the mountains, they dropped words and overly complicated symbols and drew more and more from their cream wolf companions and it simplified to how it is now, and other than new slang, compound words, or words that came from a single kid in a village that passed it down, it's been the same for a long time
Most cacaoians bookend their sentences with “calling” sounds, like a bark or whine at the start, and a whine or growl at the end, similar to “¿ ?” and tend to have their own symbols and have been used similar to periods in the sense that they show where sentences start and end. For example, if a parent is scolding a child, they may start with a bark to get their attention, but end with a sigh or huff, and if written down, those matching symbols would be added. The “calling” symbols are mostly for written stories—but a neutral “. .” is used for reconnaissance—and in casual letters or notes to others, which Wildberry learns when Crunchy Chip and him start sending letters, as most cacaoians tend to use the “calling” symbols even when writing in other languages. It’s like a built in tone tag, mixed with a “hey, look this way”, the first to help differentiate between “word is said harshly” and “I’m scolding you” and to get attention, the second mostly to clarify the back end if they changed their mind mid sentence. They got the ability to be heard in a snowstorm, but lost some ability to shove actual emotion in those words.
Slang is something different communities make, and a lot of the "strange" slang comes from herding communities, as they tend to subsist in their own walls, lower down the mountain, and grow softer to not frighten their herd.
Cream wolves may mimic calling sounds too, dogs are pretty smart, especially these ones, being bred to be loyal, but also able to be independent if they need be (Like if there's an avalanche and they need to find the team themselves.)
Some “calling” sounds:
Bark - Tends to be angry, but most of the time is more “Look!”/”Hey!” kind of sound. - “Bark! Climb down, kid!"
Whine - Mostly negative, like annoyed or scared. - “Whine, my child, you need to sleep, you need to sleep” “Whine, but mother, there’s a monster under my bed!”
Yip - Positive! Like an exclamation mark, excited, happy! - “Yip yip! Mum got me a new doll!”
Giggle Yips - just yips that get interrupted by more like a giggle, think someone being SO excited to share something that they keep interrupting themselves - “Giggle yip! Guess what, guess what!! Giggle yip!”
Howl - Rarely used, tends to be at the start of a speech (mostly used by royals when writing speeches, used to indicate the start of a speech.) -
Growl - angry, defensive, not used much outside of literature or angry letters. - “Growl
Hum - Typically a soft, usually endearing call, like a mother with a child - “Hmm very pretty my dear, lets put this on the wall.”
Chip (quick, pitched up hum) - Question - “Chip, what is it?
Whistle - “Yo, listen!”/”This way!” kind of thing - “Whistle, Everybody up! Whistle!
Bah - Mostly only low mountain villages, it’s a soft, endearing sound - “Bah bah, little one, you are so cute, let’s get you to bed”
All Cacaoians know SSL, Snowy Sign Language, which is based on how much a paw can flex, which is actually quite a lot for most cream wolves (No thumbs but they can grab stuff), being mostly around the chest and head. Some cream wolves know a bit of SSL like some dogs can speak with buttons!
They’ve just started to make a braille equivalent, starting with keeping the same letters, just either making the letters raised or carved, currently they’re experimenting with dotting out the angles and ends instead to compact it, and some are testing out how layering would work for words.
Regional dialects
The most known version is nicknamed “high mountain” or “wolf” snowy, for their place on the ridge and their companions respectively, and a “low mountain” or “sheep” snowy is used by villages lower in the mountains that raise sheep.
Low mountain snowy is far softer than upper mountain snowy, but still close enough that they can easily communicate. Harsher sounds are not fully replaced, but softened.
The beginning and ending calls in Snowy are especially inspiring. And this is coming from a guy that is playing around with the idea of making Cookie Run Kingdom conlangs. I also like the terminology for the dialects and how the writing system works.
That depends, what, specifically, do you have trouble with. A place to start would be the sounds of the language. What do you mean by "a wider vocal range?"
Cookies in this au have a syrinx like birds, mainly.
Instead of going from random noises to babbling from day 1, they start chirping and sorta yelping like a puppy at about a year, then go to babbles to get a hang of their sounds, THEN mimicking, sounding like a crow or a parrot mimicking human speech, THEN they start saying proper words at about a year and half.
The whole anatomy is different and we need to actually draw it, but they have more of a vocal range than like crows or parrots and can mimic a lot of animals, but nowhere close to like lyre birds making star wars blaster sounds.
In that case, I would recommend this video by Zzineohp on the sound inventories of different animals and, more importantly, how they can be approximated by humans. That is if you want this language to actually be spoken by humans. There is also this video by the same creator that covers a human-approximated bird language. Finally, I would like to point you to Artifexian's video on making non-human languages.
Thank you for the help! Humans won't be able to get all of the sounds, though, that's kind of why it's being so difficult, but we will be watching that last one!
Got any conlangs you'd like to share right now (as of answering this ask)?
We've only got the first step done, which is just planning it out, but have our writing on snowy! It is LONG, and we clearly play favorites, but the next step is trying to get phonetics and lettering, then after that, grammar. Have some new rambles we need to add to the lore doc before that stuff.
Funnily enough, they have the most grammatical "genders"(5) yet they have no kind of gender roles! They are pretty much: child, adult without kids, adult with kids(birthed them), adult with kids(didn't birth them), and wolf, which is more like a gender "modifier" but also kinda a different one. Then they have a system of if they're talking about two of the same grammatical gender, with slight differences and notes on top and bottom, it's complex to learn but easy to read once you know it, which is it's purpose.
As this is for a cookie run au, we're using character examples.
Crunchy would be considered a trans man, in English he goes by masc terms, but in snowy, he is a mother and a wolf!
Cacao is a mother, a king, and goes by most pronouns, with a favor towards feminine ones
Caramel is a mother and father even tho she's only ever sired, so pretty much bigender
they also combine up to four character in a box shape for more complex words.
yes it will be inspired by Korean and Japanese.
Forgot to mention, we've been using we/us/our more often as of late, don't mind that
Main Bitterdough (Cacaoian) language. Sharp lines easily carved into trees or rocks (V, Z, N, for example). Louder, sharper tones to be easily heard, like barks or yips.
Think something like nortic runes.
It’s most like Russian or german, with the harsh words some would think sounds “angry”, and occasional “missing” words that are just not in snowy, as they were just left out when speaking to keep their points short and concise in the harsh environment where there’s only a few seconds between life and death.
It started lower in the mountains, carved into rocks and trees, getting really complex, but, as they moved into the mountains, they dropped words and overly complicated symbols and drew more and more from their cream wolf companions and it simplified to how it is now, and other than new slang, compound words, or words that came from a single kid in a village that passed it down, it's been the same for a long time
Most cacaoians bookend their sentences with “calling” sounds, like a bark or whine at the start, and a whine or growl at the end, similar to “¿ ?” and tend to have their own symbols and have been used similar to periods in the sense that they show where sentences start and end. For example, if a parent is scolding a child, they may start with a bark to get their attention, but end with a sigh or huff, and if written down, those matching symbols would be added. The “calling” symbols are mostly for written stories—but a neutral “. .” is used for reconnaissance—and in casual letters or notes to others, which Wildberry learns when Crunchy Chip and him start sending letters, as most cacaoians tend to use the “calling” symbols even when writing in other languages. It’s like a built in tone tag, mixed with a “hey, look this way”, the first to help differentiate between “word is said harshly” and “I’m scolding you” and to get attention, the second mostly to clarify the back end if they changed their mind mid sentence. They got the ability to be heard in a snowstorm, but lost some ability to shove actual emotion in those words.
Slang is something different communities make, and a lot of the "strange" slang comes from herding communities, as they tend to subsist in their own walls, lower down the mountain, and grow softer to not frighten their herd.
Cream wolves may mimic calling sounds too, dogs are pretty smart, especially these ones, being bred to be loyal, but also able to be independent if they need be (Like if there's an avalanche and they need to find the team themselves.)
Some “calling” sounds:
Bark - Tends to be angry, but most of the time is more “Look!”/”Hey!” kind of sound. - “Bark! Climb down, kid!"
Whine - Mostly negative, like annoyed or scared. - “Whine, my child, you need to sleep, you need to sleep” “Whine, but mother, there’s a monster under my bed!”
Yip - Positive! Like an exclamation mark, excited, happy! - “Yip yip! Mum got me a new doll!”
Giggle Yips - just yips that get interrupted by more like a giggle, think someone being SO excited to share something that they keep interrupting themselves - “Giggle yip! Guess what, guess what!! Giggle yip!”
Howl - Rarely used, tends to be at the start of a speech (mostly used by royals when writing speeches, used to indicate the start of a speech.) -
Growl - angry, defensive, not used much outside of literature or angry letters. - “Growl
Hum - Typically a soft, usually endearing call, like a mother with a child - “Hmm very pretty my dear, lets put this on the wall.”
Chip (quick, pitched up hum) - Question - “Chip, what is it?
Whistle - “Yo, listen!”/”This way!” kind of thing - “Whistle, Everybody up! Whistle!
Bah - Mostly only low mountain villages, it’s a soft, endearing sound - “Bah bah, little one, you are so cute, let’s get you to bed”
All Cacaoians know SSL, Snowy Sign Language, which is based on how much a paw can flex, which is actually quite a lot for most cream wolves (No thumbs but they can grab stuff), being mostly around the chest and head. Some cream wolves know a bit of SSL like some dogs can speak with buttons!
They’ve just started to make a braille equivalent, starting with keeping the same letters, just either making the letters raised or carved, currently they’re experimenting with dotting out the angles and ends instead to compact it, and some are testing out how layering would work for words.
Regional dialects
The most known version is nicknamed “high mountain” or “wolf” snowy, for their place on the ridge and their companions respectively, and a “low mountain” or “sheep” snowy is used by villages lower in the mountains that raise sheep.
Low mountain snowy is far softer than upper mountain snowy, but still close enough that they can easily communicate. Harsher sounds are not fully replaced, but softened.
The beginning and ending calls in Snowy are especially inspiring. And this is coming from a guy that is playing around with the idea of making Cookie Run Kingdom conlangs. I also like the terminology for the dialects and how the writing system works.
That depends, what, specifically, do you have trouble with. A place to start would be the sounds of the language. What do you mean by "a wider vocal range?"
Cookies in this au have a syrinx like birds, mainly.
Instead of going from random noises to babbling from day 1, they start chirping and sorta yelping like a puppy at about a year, then go to babbles to get a hang of their sounds, THEN mimicking, sounding like a crow or a parrot mimicking human speech, THEN they start saying proper words at about a year and half.
The whole anatomy is different and we need to actually draw it, but they have more of a vocal range than like crows or parrots and can mimic a lot of animals, but nowhere close to like lyre birds making star wars blaster sounds.
