I’m gonna try to do more personal art next year, including more art featuring my Pngtuber/ Sona/ Vtuber, whatever and adding more self indulging aesthetics such as more Zerg and more bug aesthetic to complement the butterfly wings.
This year was a blur and a mess. My job got increasing overbearing and now I am finally free, but alone and taking a risk.
Thank you all for the support. Wish you luck in return.
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Don’t think I ever really posted my true sona on here. This my friends & followers, is THE Crypticglitch. They come out of the screen anytime they want when they want. Eats your CDs, accidentally gives your electronics a virus if sick, and crack/glitches when they talk.
(More Progress when I’m motivated, which will probably be months /hj)
It wasn't fair. The information superhighway was bleeding from electric veins, death's blue wings stretched to cover the sky, the liquid crystal corpse of hope stank upon the air, and world was falling down. And yet, she; a simple courier program; still had to go to work.
The streets of her corner of the digital world were silent as she walked down their footfalls. The new lights of the regime did not illuminate the polygon-vector corners of the towers as much as drowned them. She kept her head down, looking at her feet as she walked. Perhaps it wouldn't be so painful to look at if she hadn't seen what they were like before, when the streets of the net felt sparking with freedom. Sparking with life.
But now, they felt dead, despite being perhaps more packed than they ever had. Perhaps that was a consequence of who was filling them. The Electroshocks, the soldiers of the regime. The soldiers of death.
They towered like a firewall walking, with steely eyes and lead souls, not acting, but always about to act at your wrong move. She remembered she had had heard rumors about how they were made. She started walking faster.
There was a sound. a shout as she walked. She saw another program, being held by an Electroshock, their stun-grapple-cannon wrapped around them like a noose. There was a small decal in slight protest of the regime like graffitti, hovering in the air, only half compiled.
The program beat their fists against the thing's hide, but to no avail. The noose choked tighter. The pieces of the program began to crack, pixels bleeding as polygons cracked. Still he fought. Still he bit.
It did not save him. The Electroshock took the entangled program, and raised them to its head. With one flash of their bright light, they were gone. No shattered polygons, no bitmap piles of glistening digital visceral. Just pixels floating in the air, a clean form of gore.
On seeing this, she did the only thing she could do. She ran.
She ran down the streets, shadowed by the cold lights. She ran from the crowds, heads to the ground like her. She ran to her work. She knew the path, even though she felt lost. So very lost, doing the one thing she could do. The one thing she'd always done. Run away.
And then, all at once, she was there.
As she re-rezzed, strain moving from static fuzz to sharpness as if breathing, she looked up to the sky. And she remembered yet again why she didn't want to look up. The nodes once hung like stars in the sky, links to other places in the digital world, the twinkling lights in its black skies.
But now, the stars were winking out one by one. They had been for a long time, but by the time she'd realized it, it was too late. Too late for her, at any rate.
Because, what could just one program do?
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SO, I'm bringing back my old CQ-verse setting, sorta. Which, if you don't remember it, it was basically my take on "Digital World" settings, ala Tron, Mega Man Battle Network, Reboot, Digimon, ect.
It was well liked, probably had the most potential, but it's lain fallow over these years due to... well, all the stuff putting the net under constant threat, like KOSA, the suite of age verification laws, the threats to Section 230, ectcetera, meaning the net these characters would live on... might not exist anymore.
But, I've decided to work that very fear into this new iteration. As to how it ties into the old one? Well, you'll see. Because, as the story implicitly tells, with great villains we need great heroes to fight then, now don't we?
The name, as befitting the musical theme naming of the whole CQ-Verse stuff, is based on the working title for the song Shock Treatment from the musical of the same name! You know, that Rocky Horror semi-sequel nobody liked! And yes, I did that partially because they look like a giant taser.
I'm also doing an attempt at drawing attention to the activism meant to save the net in each entry, because god knows we need more eyes on that, so boost it wherever you can.
My org of the day is the Free Speech Coalition, a newer one but one which has been doing fucking vital work resisting the age verification laws infesting states and threatening to infest this nation. Join up with 'em, and maybe we can not only stop these laws from being passed, but maybe even fight back to burn away those that infest our states now...
As per usual with my narrative work, this story, character and all narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator…
Finally gave him a solid ref, he had a little doodley thing before. And im not sure if I ever uploaded it here?
Anyways.
Splitpiss lives in a world where all humans, a very long time ago, were converted into digital data, as their world was dying. Citizens now, no longer even know about the 'meatspace' world outside of horror movies.
It's made out of multiple servers, and its usually common to give yourself actual username-like names. People can change that on a whim, as well as their 'avatars', since everyone is a digital entity.
Very, very rarely, can people actually die. As it requires their code to break down.
Splitpiss was one of the unfortunate individuals, as he didn't want to die, he willingly infected himself with parasitic viruses that replaced chunks of missing code that decayed. The downside to those viruses is they did affect his behavior.
It's rather small. Acting more like a mental illness than anything obvious. Splitpiss will occasionally have intrusive thoughts, but rather than being able to ignore him the viruses will occasionally make him act out on them. This has lead him into a bunch of dangerous and rather fucked up situations, now he lives his life on shady servers.
Not that he minds (or...not much. Maybe a little). He's always hung around more 'dangerous' people, he can be something of a chaotic little shithead himself sometimes. He can also be pretty chill and friendly, and sometimes a nervous wreck. He's just a weird little thing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Boosts signals from any types of Grimoire, books of Shadow, Enchiridion, etc.
This digital entity, a living thought-form; upon activation creates an eloptic connection through both digital and physical mediums allowing the metawixen to tailor spells and other craft from the cybersphere to the noosphere with no lag or conversion issues.
