Sorry if this isn't your style, but a physically altered Whumpee (cyborg, neko, etc) confronting Whumper and maybe beating them up and shoving them around since they're stronger now? Thanks!!!
(TW: implied torture and dismemberment/amputation, body modifications, broken bones, kidnapping)
Whumper was a few drinks in at the bar. They were alone, as they usually were, as they preferred to be. It was their time to unwind after a long week. And at this particular bar, there were no rules. It was far enough away from normal civilization that no one gave a shit what happened there. Whether it was a bar fight, a drug deal, an abduction…everyone, the staff included, turned a blind eye. Whumper had even picked out a couple of their previous victims from this place.
They were grateful that society wasn’t what it used to be. They never could have lived out their passions in a world with normal laws. They were happy to see the collapse of the world if it meant they got to reap the benefits of it.
Whumper heard the stool next to them scratch on the floor as it was pulled out, and someone sat down next to them. While the stranger ordered in a rough, strangely robotic voice, Whumper took a glance.
There wasn’t much to look at. The stranger was covered head to toe in black clothing, even wearing gloves and a mask. The only part of them that was exposed was one of their eyes. The other was obscured by the same cloth their mask was made of, and a hood was pulled over their head.
The stranger received their drink and paid for it, but they didn’t drink just yet. They swirled the liquid around in their glass, watching the ice melt. Whumper couldn’t help but watch, almost hoping this strange figure would take the mask off so they could see what was under it.
“Nice night.”
Whumper jumped a little bit at the stranger’s sudden comment. They realized they had been staring, and they grabbed their own drink and took an awkward sip. “…Yeah. Real nice.”
The stranger turned their head to get a good look at Whumper before going back to their glass. “Burn victim,” they murmured.
“Ah.” Whumper had assumed the stranger wanted to hide something with how much they were covering. “So, uh…never seen you before. What brings you here?”
The stranger shrugged. “I’m new to this part of town. I wanted to see the…amenities for myself,” they explained. Their voice was starting to grate on Whumper’s ears. “I’ve heard a lot about this area.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. About how…loose it is. How you can do what you want here. See…I don’t like to play by rules.” The stranger’s visible eye met Whumper’s again. “I have a feeling you don’t either.”
Whumper laughed. “Hey, you got me. Why else would I come to a place like this?”
The stranger nodded. “Why else indeed.” Their gaze remained on Whumper for a long stretch of time before breaking away to swirl their otherwise untouched glass again. “I’ll be honest. I sat next to you because you seem like you’ve been here for a while. Like you know what you’re doing.”
That certainly didn’t help with deflating Whumper’s ego. They let themselves smirk at the comment. “Do I, now? Well, your guess would be correct. What do you wanna know?”
When the bartender was a little farther away, the stranger leaned in. “I want to find someone to play with. Just for the night, maybe a bit into the morning,” they whispered. “I want to find someone weak. Vulnerable. How do you spot someone like that?”
A grin grew onto Whumper’s face. Finally, an equal. “Oh, that’s easy,” they replied. “Find someone sitting alone. They’re gonna have this look about them, like they’re a mouse in a cage. Eyes darting around, uncertain. Watching everyone. It’s better if they’re drunk, too. If you go up to them and they shrink a little when they see you, but they don’t run, you’ve got a catch.”
The stranger hummed. “…Got it. Alone, drinking, and pathetic.” They stared again, with that single piercing eye. “Kind of like you, right?”
Whumper’s reply got caught in their throat. “I…w-what?” They barked out a nervous laugh. “What do you…”
The stranger’s hand went to their mask and the cloth covering their other eye, and they finally pulled them down and away. They weren’t a burn victim. Half of their face was made of metal. Their eye glowed red, blinking out of sync with their real one.
“What kind of stuff do you like to do to your victims, by the way?” The rough voice continued. “I could think of plenty of fun things, but…for some reason, I have a hunch that you like to mutilate.” The picked up the drink they ordered and downed it in one go, like a shot. “To dismember.”
They removed their gloves one at a time and shrugged off their jacket. The tank top revealed one regular human arm, and one robotic one. A large metal plate was visible on the other half of their torso.
“Am I correct? Is that what a freak like you does in their free time?”
Whumper stared in shock, heart beginning to beat faster. They’d never met a cyborg, only heard about them. People only did this to themselves when they were severely injured or on the brink of death. They were rare, and even more than that, they were extremely strong.
Whumper was ready to believe this person was just weird. Some rando messing with them. But then, the stranger removed their hood, revealing their soft, wavy hair.
Hair that Whumper could notice from way across the bar. Hair that they had noticed before.
Hair that no matter what they did, they would keep on that head.
This was no stranger. No, Whumper knew this person. Intimately well.
Whumpee revealed a predatory, half-metal smile. “Hey, Whumper.”
Before Whumper could take two steps from the stool, Whumpee’s robotic arm reached out and crushed Whumper’s wrist with its force, stopping them. Whumper screamed and tried to wrench themselves out of the unrelenting grip.
“WAIT!” Whumper cried, panicked. “W-Wait, wait a second, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, so sorry, Whumpee, I-I can make this right!”
Whumpee started walking to the door, dragging Whumper along with them.
“NO! NO NO, STOP!” Whumper continued to pull on their broken wrist, desperately trying to detach Whumpee’s grasp on them. They turned around to the bar’s patrons. “HELP ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE, STOP THEM!”
I was busy all day today, and now I'm laying in bed. I got a few minutes.
Here are the sketches from Sunday, Sept 6th.
We start of strong with a drawing that I really like. It's not so much vent art as it is angst art. You've all heard of the Hanahaki disease, a fictional disease of unrequited love? Well this has nothing to do with that. My idea when I first came up with Rosie was, what if flowers were part of you. They grew with you. She had flowers on her face, tiny ones, right over where her left eye would be. But as I started making twisted versions of these characters for INH, well... You saw my sketch from the 5th. Instead of flowers growing with you, the flowers became parasites. This is before she died.
We're going to ignore the fact that I don't know how to draw a mohawk.
Because I was in that angst mood, I drew Brock, getting his arm cut off, with a bloody bandage over his eyes.
You wanna know the funny thing about this story I'm working on? Blood is blue, like the sky and tears are red, like the color of yours and my blood. So technically, he's just crying.
And I got lazy in all the sketches and just shaded in the blood.
Whatever, you can't send me to inconsistency jail! I already live there!
I'm a bit scared to post this one.
This is Charlie. They are nonbinary. They're also a cyborg who is taken over by a sort of virus part way through chapter 3. I wanted to illustrate what the mesh between human and robot is. To do that, well... It involved Charlie being shirtless. And Charlie, well... Has breasts. (Well only one but whatever) I censored it and will be tagging according. If this triggers you, I am so sorry. Let me know if I can make it up to you or tag it a specific way.
(But I really like the glitch effect and their eye)
So I drew these things during the day, the latter 2 while in a call with my cousin. But before I went to bed, I decided to draw some happy things, to make me feel happier. Also so I could have drawn something happy
So I started off with CHARLES, the one and only! Drawing Stickmin is way fun. It's really easy and I love it. The face is one of my favorite things to draw, cause you draw so much emotion there, you know?
But Charles is our king. He's immortal and we love him. (VH did not exist.)
I censored this a bunch, mostly because I didn't want to get in trouble with my mom. And that's just talking about the language, Eli often wears a binder. (They are sometimes a potty mouth.) So here's Eli! (OC!Eli to be specific.) They're very happy to be a heckin mermaid.
That's it. This is the post I've been trying to get out for 2 days. The original had better explanations and was more cohesive. Y'all are stuck with this one now.
What came for Rot was something in the form of a small mechanical spider. Hundreds of them skittering out of the portal Latching on to the nearest rat through the back. One such rat twisted and turned to face rot. Its mouth was forced open as a sound of a radio came through. "Hello Rot." Sats voice came from the radio. "Lets play a little game. You see I been rather busy cleaning up my lab. And thought to give you a nice thank you gift. As you can see your little friends here are hooked up pierced through with my little bots here. Now some have the same acidic substances that you have given me and will explode within a minute. Others are slowly having their insides turned into living bombs. While the rest are having their limbs controlled to fight off any attempt you make to disarm them. What fun! You have a minute to figure out the solution. Oh and here is some music to listen too. have fun" The main control was now filled with death metal at full volume.
A minute? IN THIS BLARING MUSIC?? As if Rot gonna use all that little time to save all of them, who does this man-thing think he is?? PUPPETING HIS PUPPETS?? PAH!!! ROTRISK ISN'T GONNA HAVE ANY OF THIS!! HE THINKS HE CARES FOR HIS SCIENTISTS? HIS SLAVES??
The ratman gnawed on their already scarred-up-looking paw, drawing up glowing sizzling blood to get things flowing just enough to fling it on some of the Skaven infected. Hoping it'll stall with obeying the mechanical spiders and being puppeted by Rot's blood magic.
If successful, even minimally, Rotrisk doomsticked the Skaven who were stalling in the head area. By doing so Rot hoped it'll break them all up to be unusable to the little metal monstrosities from using his underlings any further. Sure he'll be covered in burns by the acid, BUT HIS DANG WORK IS GETTING BLOWN TO BITS AND INTO MELTED GUNK.
While Rot was fighting, Non-spider controlled ratmen that were mutated and madden with blood magic started to fling themselves at the new 'intruders' to fight. Regardless if they'd all get blown up! Maybe they'll cushion the blows from harming any more equipment.
By the time it's over bodies were everywhere and Rot's tired. His staff is now down less than half or more, lab puddles of guts acid and other bits. Setting this ratman months back of schedule for his mutant deliveries.
Rot slumps to the floor, grab a severed head, and gnaws it anxiously on what to do. Sure they can bounce back with new Skaven, they're born by the dozens, but the mutants? That's another story because...
