#just imp things

[askpinkietai]

Chaos can be an active or passive force. Sometimes you don’t gotta involve yourself to reap the benefits. It’s all about being in the right place at the right time, be it to cause a situation or just to milk a situation someone else caused~

Based on a Discord conversation about character in settings~

[askpinkietai]

Ah, it’s birthday loot time again~

You might recall that I also got Spider-Verse, like, two years ago. Yeah, I dunno what happened to it. We moved, I could no longer find it. Anyway, that film is too good to keep out of my collection, so I’m glad to get it again. New Mutants was also a film I enjoyed~

One more volume closer to Gold Digger completion, which I expect to never achieve. Some of those used volume prices are ridiculous~

And of course, my favourite emoji, now in pillow form too, so to speak. I admit, I added this to my list after playing a lot of Winkydink levels in Going Under. If I could find neon lighting of that logo to hang up, I would! But until then, the pillow will do~

[askpinkietai]

At last, I can become my true self, ballet slippers and all~

The other outfit will remain my main outfit, but I’ve registered this one to a wand, so I can give in to imp-ulse and make an imp-act any time~

[askpinkietai]

😈

[askpinkietai]

Name: Porsha Species: Imp (Pride domain) Peculiar habits: Made of ceramic

Meet Porsha, another imp from the same conception of Hell that Taya resides in. Porsha is from the Pride domain, and subsequently is less a flesh-and-blood thing as something created. Pride is the domain of display and showing off, of the arts and theater and culture. Things are made in Lust, sold in Greed, and shown in Pride. And as such, Porsha is made entirely of ceramic. Hence why her design is so busy, because she's meant to look like those blue china plate you never eat off of~

Being made of ceramic, Porsha is incredibly fragile. She is not only capable of breaking, she frequently does. She's entirely hollow (except for her horns), and while her outer shell bends and moves like a biological creature, impacts stronger than footsteps will probably cause her to crack. Entire pieces of her can break off, and she can be shattered. However, she is capable of reattaching those pieces as long as they don't entirely crush into dust. Over time, smaller fractures will knit together, and smaller pieces will join with bigger ones and become whole again. This gives her some unique abilities!

She can deliberately remove parts of herself, as long as an existing fracture exists. And instead of most imps' ability to teleport (or "misappear" in imp dialect), she can shatter at will and reform. You can break her into pieces, stuff those pieces under a door, and have her open it on the other side. She is also incredibly sharp along her edges, and can propel her fragments as a weapon. While shattered, she continues to perceive what's around her, and can still talk as long as her mouth is a single piece.

As an imp of the Pride domain and not intended for direct confrontation, Porsha's greatest weapon is her mouth. (In a different way than Taya.) While mostly a timid tagalong, Porsha's vulnerability allows those around her to drop their guard. That nagging voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you you're not good enough? The one that fills you with self-doubt, causes you to question your abilities? That's probably Porsha, whispering in your ear, making your pride as fragile as she is.

Porsha and Taya are friends in the Hell domains, and she stands about a head taller than Taya. While she's easily more clever and manipulative than the boistrous and simple-minded Taya, she defers to her since Taya has bigger horns, which is how heirarchy works among demons, especially imps. They're not exactly great for each other, but they're worse for everyone else when together~

The end of Porsha's tail is missing! Even she doesn't remember what happened to it. Perhaps it was crushed to dust. Perhaps her employer or some other more powerful demon (one higher in rank than Taya) has it as part of a contract. If you spy a mysterious ceramic arrowhead, please return it to the Pride domain as soon as you can~

[askpinkietai]

Now, I'm not a background or architecture artist by any means or anything, but here's what I've been working on all night (and by "all night", I mean "the length of three roughly-90 minute movies"). It's Imp Taya's home! Her personal home, nestled in some horrible corner of the Gluttony domain! As an imp, she's pretty lucky to get a whole diner to herself, let alone one not stacked in a tower of fourteen others. It may be part of a huge support beam, and a giant fiberglass burger may have fallen in the roof, but that's just part of its grease-soaked charm. The rest of the vandalism is probably either her own doing, or just wear and tear of living in Hell~

Don't forget to read this post if you want a more general conception of the Gluttony domain's structure and design. A whole city street's a bit beyond my ability~

[askpinkietai]

In case you thought the whole gluttony imp thing was just a fun character thing, here's the universe telling me to lean into it~

[askpinkietai]

The air shimmers around you, and you stand there on the streets of the Gluttony domain, the little blue imp floating in front of you with her arms outstretched, welcoming you to her horrible home. The first thing that hits you is the smell. It literally hits you, the pungent aroma of this domain hangs physically in the air, almost like a fog. It's the sweet smell of rotting fruit mixed with the more foul scent of rotting meat. All this mixes with a heavy presence of grease and deep-fried food. It's inescapable. It's like being in a fast food restaurant with severe health code violations and a landfill at the same time, and there's no exit from either. As mentioned, you're on a street. As you look down it, it seems to be lined with open-air shops and stalls. Large wooden stands offering just about every foodstuff you can imagine. It's not just produce. The nearest to you is an entire large tray filled with gravy, meatballs the size of your fist bobbing and floating in it. Across from it is a booth stuffed with pizzas. Not any shelving or boxes, just dozens of pizzas stacked one on top of the other. You can't even see someone inside manning the booth. Demons walking or floating by don't even look, simply grabbing a slice and stuffing it into their mouth as casually as can be. Other demons are seated at various nearby tables with patchwork umbrellas hanging over them, stuffing themselves with an entire smorgasbord of collected goodies. Behind these stalls are more buildings, ugly monolithing cement and plastic structures. They look slapped together and ramshackle, almost as if they were never intended to be a single structure. Several have large support beams just to keep them propped up against another. Haphazard staircases, ledges, walkways, and scaffolding run through them, linking the various large open windows together. Upon further inspection, they're service windows. Massive quantities of food are passed through them, one direction or another. Bright neon lights in red and yellow line the place, and colourful awnings drape over the windows to try and disguise them as more than simply a hole in a concrete slab. For all the world, the whole place seems like a mad mashup of open-air market, mall food court, and greasy-spoon diner applied to an entire city. Food is everywhere. Not just in the stalls or being handed through the windows. It litters the place. Half-eaten candy bars are scattered down the street, wrappings still on them. Chunks of meat, half-finished sandwiches, and discarded slices of pizza drip from every surface, smeared against the wall or hanging off the awnings. A steady rivulet of grease runs past your feet. Nearby, between a cotton candy stall half-melting from the vapours around it and a booth selling stacks of hamburger patties, is a large outflow pipe. Instead of sewage, a constant flow of molten cheese oozes from it, pouring out into a slow-moving orange waterfall until it drains away into a storm grate below it. Passing demons merely stick their food or even bare hand into it, again with all the casualness of your average pedestrian. All this was expected. What you didn't expect were the flies. They are everywhere, hundreds of thousands of them, hanging in small black clouds over the hazy yellow skyline. Occasionally a small contingent of a dozen or more will break loose and head for the nearest glob of food. This seems to be the only thing that gives the demons pause in their feasting. When a fly lights upon something currently being eaten, the demon neither continues to eat nor shoos the fly away, waiting for it to finish on its own before its meal resumes. This respect and reverence for such filthy pests seems odd until you remember one of Lady Beelzebub's other titles: Lord of the Flies…