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If this thread already exists, please let me know! I wanted to create my own little forum game so here we are.
To be specific because the title might be a little confusing, this includes ANY kind of art! A drawing, music, sculpting, or maybe something that no one considers to be art except for your own OC.
RULES:
1. This is a SFW thread! Nudity is not allowed, and gore must be censored. Also, for simplicity's sake, please do not use characters that minors cannot access.
2. Write at least 4 sentences! You don't have to write a whole chapter where every little detail is explained, but please put effort into your response.
3. It's highly recommended that you claim a reply before filling out your response, but it isn't required. If you claim a post, please finish your response within 3 hours, otherwise you can be skipped if there are no updates.
4. You may post again after 3 replies or 3 days have passed. If the user above has you blocked, wait for someone else to reply.
5. Follow ups are encouraged but not necessary.
6. You do not have to draw up a visual representation of what your OC made! This is a writing thread, but if you'd like to add that for fun I won't stop you.
7. Going to reiterate that this is an IC thread, so please turn that on before you write your response.
If you have any questions or reports, please dm either me or Jobo!
Let's start out with Ferilys!
Harper stared at Arc in complete awe. I mean - blonde hair, blue clothes? They were basically twins. Harper rushed to her bag as she pulled out some crumpled up parchment in her bag.
“Ink, ink, ink!” Harper murmured under her breath, violently scrambling through her bag. Finally, she pulled out a fancy bottle of ink, one that was surely on the brink of spilling on all her belongings, and a fancy golden feather pen. She went inking away.
“You, you!” She called, flagging arc down. Proudly she holds up her masterpiece, a shoddily done drawing of her and arc in ink. She has a huge grin on her face.
“Keep this! It’s from your long lost twin!” She howled with laughter, clearly a bit thick-skulled, though she obviously meant well!
(YOURS IS PERFECT DW)
once again she finally go outside after a few days, well her elder siblings force her to go outside for some vitamin D they said.
she at the park bench holding a sketchbook and a pencil, looking at the view. she see a blonde woman and decided to draw her out of boredom.
she give a the finished art to Harper and left without saying a word.
^ OOC: More of a thing about effort/respect but if you’re going to include two worded sentences, please try to add a little more! This isn’t necessarily a warning, just a little advice :]
Scarlet sat a few feet away from Tiffeny, an easel in front of him with a color palette by his side. He hadn’t painted in a while so he was a bit rusty at first, but muscle memory began to kick in after a few minutes of messing around with the general structure of the piece. He payed special attention to her eyes to make sure they’d be done justice, but he found the blonde’s hair the most enjoyable to draw, smiling with satisfaction as he finished painting her golden strands. Throughout the time they were there, he made no attempts to start conversation despite usually having a disdain for silence. This time however, it was easier to focus without chatter. Plus, something told him that he would get along with the woman in front of him.
A few hours had passed by now, but once he was done he had created quite the masterpiece. “I do hope this was worth your while,” he flipped the canvas around to show Tiffeny. “You can take it home if you so choose to. If not, then…” He pondered for a bit, leading to a slight shrug in his shoulders. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with it, actually. Perhaps Master Ferilys could sell it.”
“...Hmm?”
A young girl, perhaps around the age of twelve, looks up from her empty canvas. The stranger seemed to have piqued her interest.
“It’s.. a new color. May I paint with it, mister?”
But even before he could give his consent, she had already begun on her piece. Despite being so young, the way she held her paintbrush was far from a novice. There was something masterful about each stroke she made on the once-blank canvas, slowly transforming it into a portrait of this stranger with an interesting “color.” There were so many colors were in this world, but she had yet to find them all; to discover them all. Today, however, she discovered a new color through the muse before her.
With the lack of space on the palette, she looked down at the ends of her white dress. Though talented for her age, she was quite eccentric too. Still, staining her dress didn’t stop her from finishing her work. “Here, mister,” she hands over the piece, “This.. is how I understand your color.” Every feature of his was painted delicately and meticulously, the brush strokes having a distinct swirl to them—reminiscent of Van Gogh’s style.
(ooc: just a lil’ clarification about her eccentricity towards “colors” bc i’m afraid it might make a misunderstanding lol — she perceives the world in colors, everyone having a unique color to them. for people to see what she sees, she paints with said “color” ^^)
The short spirit lugged around the rather large easel towards the young pre-teen, before wedging it between him and the trunk of a tree. Jagger rarely made art outside of designing clothes, but Tokoyo must have really wanted to see what the embodiment of swag could make, apparently. "Aight' kid, Jagger kinda rusty fo' real. But Jagger ain't gonna let you down. Stand right there." Even though visually he lacked eyes, he did "glance" up at the kid while striking his canvas with a variety of paint.
The more time began to pass as Jagger pondered, splashing and mixing his palettes to visually come up with something. It was a slightly slow process, but he eventually took a good look at the art prodigy before him. A strike of inspiration hit him as he jotted colors on his canvas. What was more interesting was his own appearance, as he himself slowly began to transform into a work of art - his own palette mold into an almost mosaic like color, spring forth with life, with his clothes shifting into something new as well. It was probably more entertaining to see him change color than that of the painting.
He was done. He placed down his brush as he lifted the canvas to flip it towards Tokoyo. You couldn't even see him behind it. "Jagger done, what ya think kid?" A myriad of hues grazed the canvas, almost in an abstract form of art deco. It was vibrant, littered with splashes of pattern. He leaned the canvas back onto the tree, before leaning on it as well. Side by side, Jagger's appearance and color matched the painting. "This was hella fun. Jagger gotta do this more often. You can keep it if ya want."
↓ (oh my gosh I love this so much, thank you for the response!)
In the past few years, Rozy’s sewing skills have greatly improved. The previous simplicity of their plushies was shed for better detail. And sure, they are rather miffed about being in the presence of what is essentially a god, but Jagger doesn’t seem all that malicious, especially compared to the main 9 gods of their more narcissistic tail-having kin. He seemed a lot better than those ones.
Stitch by meticulous stitch, Rozy gets to work. Thread joins a pair of small baggy pants to the main body. Thin wire is used to give a slightly ineffective illusion of arms floating near the torso. They wrap a tiny golden chain around the plushie’s waist before bringing the arms through the armholes of a tiny replica of Jagger’s vest. Turning the final piece around, they show off their hard work.
Jagger has been reimagined into a marketable plushie.
“Here. It was hard to do the arms,” they admit, “but it was a nice challenge. The colors of the fabric might not exactly match. It still looks nice though, I think.”