Scribbles

Main art account -> inkadoodlez

BOUNDARIES:

DNI: proshippers and anything of the such. You aren't welcome here >:(

INT: Oc makers, artists, writers/roleplayers, literature enjoyers.. anybody !! 🧡

• Do not criticize my writing if I don't ask for it :( I am not making this account to learn how to write and receive feedback. It's for my enjoyment.

- no unnecessary backhanded comments either. I will delete any comments I am not comfortable with

• Suggestions? Depends, really? Prompts and ideas for bits are fine :3 I might even write out a response to a question if I get them. I don't mind getting suggestions of what to write. I just might not do em !

• NSFW - ? I am a minor! Do not speak of sexual topics pertaining to my characters or myself. I will not write it - at MOST, I will write small suggestive bits into the larger thing I am writing. Nothing severe that is gross.

• AI? Do not feed my writing into AI.

My writing is 100% man made, and it's going to stay that way.

• Inspiration? Don't take HEAVY inspiration. Inspiration in creative spaces is awesome!! Can't say everything I make is 100% original.

I'll likely be sharing oc designs and lore decisions, and those are very precious to me. So just be respectful :)

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Can Do's !! --~v

Feel free to ask questions about my OC's!! What I write is packed with lore and implications,, hehehe..

Especially when I write poetry!! I love seeing how people view my stuff :)

I LOOOVVVEEE questions and interactions like that!! Dont hold back >:)

A few decades later,

there was Felis. An engineer bound to the underground, which over years has stretched deeper and outwards, clawing through the ground and paving a way of progress, which would've been halted with the world's end if they hadn't put *everything* into it.

Felis grew up around machines. The beautiful inner workings made sense, did not betray or worry them. She saw the heaven that was being built, and she wanted a part of it. So, as a 23 year old she poured themselves into the life of the underground, where the work never ends and there's always a need for more.

Now around 40, maybe..? The only perception of passing time was her wrinkles and the greying hair. *For all she knows it's from the stress..*

She works in the deepest depths of the tower. Creating androids and other sorts of servants, whether that be guns or worker machines, for the upper world. With no access to above, but an elevator where they send the machines, she has been under for almost her entire life. The underground is the ugly belly of the perfect community they're trying to build, and the workers are proof that it exists. She despises this truth, to be the dust bunny under the brand new couch, but.. she loves her work to death. Machines are built to be understood and to make sense. Unlike people who are built to change every moment of their lives. New goals, new hobbies, new morals. If she had the chance to be a beautiful mechanical worker, she'd take the chance.. but alas, she can only be a machine in a metaphorical sense.

Down to the heart of the facility she went down the stairs, carrying blueprints of plans for a new android. Her last models were too fragile, prone to rust and wear. *She hopes to begin testing today.*

The stairs are illuminated by dim lights, some flickering, or even out completely. Someone needs to replace those.. the metal steps could be dangerous in the dark.. especially with how much she has to lug around boxes full of metal parts and scrap. Of course, she doesn't have time to do it herself. Someone else will. She's sure.

The descent to the core was longer than she could ever appreciate, when she was just an intern she avoided coming down here again at all costs, too many stairs and it was too easy to trip and hurt yourself. If you were to hurt yourself, no one would find you for a good while. Very few would make the effort unless absolutely necessary.

For all the annoying amount of time it took, she loved it down there. It was.. usually quiet. Devoid from other beings besides from the machines.

Once she finally got to her workspace, she spread out her blueprints on the table and began digging for the parts in her makeshift storage. Which was just boxes strewn around the space full of miscellaneous parts and scrap she had collected. This part of the lab was her organized chaos. Solitude away from others.

She was never completely alone, to her dismay. The facility is alive, in its own unique way. The Tower had its eyes, and sadly.. a way to communicate. She has a sort of appreciation and adoration for it, it being the most powerful and adapt machine in the facility but.. it was very annoying. Always commenting and making her want to throw her scrap at its dumb screens that only serve at this point to mock her. As much as she wanted to, there wasn't much she could do. Besides, he serves as a good tool to her work if it cooperates.

She organizes the desired pieces onto the table. She needs to build a skeleton first, something to build off of.

This model will be more efficient, more armed. Past versions were simply servants.

Cirius -> she/they

Aeon -> He/it

Fall-2

Icy cool air prickles my skin, my feet finding new ground to feel the satisfying crackle and pop.

Nimble exploration of the vibrant woodland.

Leaves sprouting new hues to say goodbye to our setting sun.

Only then will I find the new path. Winding down to new beginnings, a purer life.

Venturing deeper into the blurs of warmth and comfort, a gust of wind pushes me forth.

Elating thrilling new beginnings.

"He left it on.. :) Well. Statement of Audrey-.... Audrey.

Regarding her time as~.. a sort of.. corpse? Ghost.. ghoul.." she giggles "spookster even! Original statement givennn... on this day that it is. Audio recording done by she. :)" proudly stated into the tape recorder, "Sorry to lock you out, Joe, couldn't have you asking for more than I was willing to share :(

Now where do I begin..? The beginning would be lovely.. if only I could recall. Everything is fuzzy these days.. I remember wandering the streets. It was raining - or at least I think it was? I felt the wet chill on my skin. I just kept walking all over London. I saw others, I believe. They were just lumps of dark shapes just out of my reach. Some were in danger, I swear.. I did my best to take them to safety - where? I couldn't tell you I truly couldn't. Maybe you could find them for me, let me know how they're doing. I-.. I couldn't give you a description. If you ask. Maybe they'll mention me, I, who saved them, perhaps.

......

[ There's a long silence, static starts to rise and then falls]

Sorry, I'm all out of sorts today. Maybe I should've prepared some sort of speech. Maybe I should've just let you ask your silly questions. Could you clear the fog? Would you help me. Even for a moment?"