Joe, 29, He/Him Feel free to say hi! All my art is tagged #awhellstothejoe or #Joe Draws You can support me here: http://patreon.com/JellisDraws (and tip to fuel my caffeine addiction) and here: http://ko-fi.com/jellisart.
Fantasy and Sci-fi are the main goings on round here.
I’m a DM who’s been running a weekly homebrew game since 2019, though I’ve been a lover of ttrpg’s for over a decade now. Im an artist and a writer and you can find examples of both here.
My blog is “Multifandom” I suppose. My interests aren’t singular and the contents of this blog reflect that. Some favorites include: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Malazan Series, Mistborn series. I love Critical Role, TAZ, Dimension 20, too many Anime to name, Drawfee, Mass effect, dragon age, the Witcher, Destiny 2, Baldurs Gate 3 and so on!
By and large just… lots of Fantasy and Scifi. I do my best to tag.
My ask box is open.
All my art is tagged #awhellstothejoe or #Joe Draws
Frisk having dead sister nightmares for @jellisdraws who leaves delightful comments in their tags and who I have really enjoyed chatting with about gaming adventures :)
Mira stumbled backward as rounds from an assault rifle ripped through the window and wall she had been cowering behind. The hand cannon in her hand was near empty - two rounds left, it was a chance. The door splintered under a heavy boot, but the bar held, light shown in from the drone sailing around her assailants. She began to run, her boot landed on something that gave, rolled, she fell, gunfire ripped through the bar in the door. She rolled onto her back as the armored lightbearer stepped into the room, reloading, head swiveling.
BLAM!
BLAM!
The armor clad figure fell back and Mira scrambled, even as the drone opened up and the lifeless figure began to twitch and groan. She slammed through the back door, away from the warlords, away from the assailants, away from the three bodies she’d left in that small village house-
The air of the steppe was cold and dry and burned her lungs as she ran. Her face hurt, her eyes pricked and burned, her long blue black hair streamed behind her. The sunset burned the whole sky orange, as her feet found crumbling pavement of the ancient highway. The rusted heaps of cars abandoned as their long dead drivers sought the relative hope of the Exodus program lined her route. There had been no hope though.
A knoll ahead, lined with wildflowers. She could take cover- She never heard the shot that took her hip, spinning her around and throwing her painfully to the ground. She gasped, shock flooding her system, heart pounding her warm blood out into the already chilled crumbly soil. She gasped another breath, as the black began to tunnel out her vision. She clawed her fingers into the dirt, coughed, felt blood fleck her lavender lips and chin. A thought pushed itself to the forefront through the pounding haze of adrenaline, shock, pain, and whatever force had sustained her now for years beyond even a golden age lifetime.
“Sister,” came a voice, “I don't know what the hell you have to smile about.”
Her eyes drifted up to a green pendant. Jade. The man pushed back his headband over his dark hair, he had fresh cuts along his cheek. She was smiling. Weird.
‘I can't hurt anyone anymore.’
BLAM!
Mira sat up, cloak thrown aside as her sword swung into the air thrumming with void. The smell of ozone brought her to wakefulness, and she let the honed blade fall to the battered futon she called a bed. The dream clung to her, like the chunks of degraded asphalt in her palms. She was sheathed in sweat. Tried to stabilise her breath, shuddered instead. She clutched for Enkidu… fingers finding nothing, Enkidu, En-
“Kidu?” She sobbed. My light?
“Help?”
She looked, and then stared as her heavy cloak shifted and rose partially from it's place on the ground as a glow illuminated the dense fabric from within. It wobbled to and fro. Pressed upwards,then sank back down.
“I can't get out.” came Enkidu’s muffled voice.
She snorted softly and moved and sat on the floor, the stone cool and smooth on her bare legs as she pulled the layers of tangled fabric away from her ghost. His smooth black and gold shell and bright diamond shaped eye greeted her momentarily. His shell spun, embarrassed, then clamped slightly in concern..
She smiled a watery smile, “Hi.” cupping him into her hands gently.
“Hi,” he said, hesitating, “bad dream?”
She nodded, pulling him to her chest as her heartbeat began to slow, curling around him.
“Im here.” he said, now muffled against her skin, though she could feel the vibrations he made as he spoke, “it's just a dream.”
But it wasn't. It wasn't a dream the first time she’d had it on the moon after freeing a shard of the traveler. It wasnt a dream when she’d had it again after destroying the black heart and becoming a legend among guardians. It hadnt been a dream on Europa, when she and Dusty and Dullahan-12 had gone seeking the powers of stasis and the truth of their origins. Savathun’s throne world and deepsight had proven that, Ahsa and the Veil made it incontrovertible.
Mira was exactly what her enemies had dubbed her as, and had been before her weapons were ever turned on them. Mira was a murderer.
