Here's my stuff for the WTA!
Name: Magma, Stratus, maybe keep Oyster?
Personality: chaotic, trickster, a bit of a cheshire cat
Outfit: maybe something a bit steampunk?
I have this story plot / comic I'm working on that I'd love to incorporate him into! It's based around the underworld, where there's different demons ruling over different sections. Each of the sections is a different time period, so there's 1920s cafes next to modern buildings and ancient castles. Some of the other characters are on my profile (Darling, Atlas, Lucifer, and a few more). I'd have this guy as one of the demons, because he looks like a chaotic cat. He'd be more of a trickster demon, and would probably reside over somewhere around the industrial revolution. I'd end up making him anthro, but keep the design relatively similar.
Here's a page of the comic so far:
And here's a bit of a story I'm working on with the same characters:
Dying was the second most interesting thing that happened to Atlas that week.
It was a rather strange experience. He had been driving down the road on an unusually cloudy and unfortunately humid evening when he hit a bump in the road. Normally, a bump wouldn’t have stopped him, but the bump had the sound of a Quite-Possibly-a-Living-Being bump, so he slowed the car to a stop and stepped out. The car, an old, black Bentley, hummed patiently as Atlas paced around back, glancing at the desert landscape around him for signs of recently living things. That was when it happened. A loud sound cracked through the air like thunder, and Atlas realized he had fallen to the ground. He felt his head, and saw something red on his paw. Huh, he thought. That’s odd. He gave it one more thought, and died.
~.~
Waking up, however, was worse. Atlas came to with a splitting headache and the worst hangover he had ever had. He rubbed his forehead and squinted, his mind as blurry as his vision. “Good morning!” sounded a loud and hoarse voice, causing Atlas to wince. “Although it’s never quite morning down here, and I doubt that ‘good’ is ever an appropriate word to use in these types of situations.” He rubbed his eyes and sat up with a grunt, shards of pain shooting through his body. The painfully loud voice continued. “Now, when most creatures end up here they have a few questions, so I’ll get those out of the way.” Atlas opened his eyes enough to see an enormous grey wolf standing in the corner, holding papers in his paws. He tried to stand up, but decided quickly that was not the best idea and sat back down. “Number One,” the wolf stated, “You are dead.” Atlas furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. That didn’t sound quite right but he couldn’t focus enough to dispute it. “Number Two. You are here. But where is here? Here is the underworld. You are in the underworld. Why are you in the underworld? You died - we covered that in Number One.”
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