#ribbit angst

I thought it would be pretty neat if I animated Jax and Ribbit as Mizi and Sua from alien stage.

(I used procreate for the drawing and capcut for the editing.)

some of the transfem ribbit pre-transition angst I wrote is down below. it's pre-transition, so there are he/they pronouns instead of she/they. I wrote this in november. enjoy (?)

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Ribbit wished, so deeply, so frequently, feverishly, painfully that they could rip the skin off their own digitalized body.

It was minty green, shiny under the fluorescent fakeness of Caine’s design. It felt like rubber toys and satin dresses. It felt like sunlight smoothed against Ribbit’s silhouette.

It felt like a prison. It felt like a vice.

Everything was tight, squeezing, pale red and pitch black and pain written across their body like messy scrawl, like smears of ink. Ribbit could feel… everything, and they could feel it deeply.

And it felt like a punishment. Oh, God, did it feel like a punishment, like cold-numbed fingers going permafrost as Ribbit went through the pleasureless, pentatonic play, the petal-poisoned motions of a perfectly practiced circus performer.

The muscle beneath the chiffon-shimmer spring-green was taut and it was tight— when Ribbit clenched their palm into a fist, nails cutting so deep into his palms that he could almost feel the illusion of ruby-colored, liquid-shaped pain, the muscles stretched, extending with a viscous rippling strength that brought pinprick tears to the frog’s eyes.

And those eyes, oh, how Ribbit felt haunted staring into mirrors, their reflection crystalline as their tears. His eyes were sharp and slanted, inky depths cold and crisp and cuttingly, terribly masculine in the creases, the folds of skin that held Ribbit like a punishing hug, a comfort they rejected, an affection they despised.

“What’s wrong with you?” he pleaded with himself, knees knocking as if windchimes, rattled by a harsh breeze, struck by a gust of hurricane proportions. The world was splotchy and saturated, bright and pastel and abstract in their teary vision. Droplets of quartz stained the fuzzy magenta of their rug, the pink similar to the flush rising to Ribbit’s cheeks— frustration, humiliation, fear. It painted him petunia, pale-pearl seashell streaking his cheeks.

The frog didn’t notice their heart beginning to race before they were on the ground, knees having finally given out. Maybe that was for the better— Ribbit was tired of standing, tired of having to be strong enough to prop himself up.

Here, have a random panel and frame from both the animatic and a mini comic that will serve as a part 1 to the final project, enjoy! Man this project is gonna be so depressing....it's gonna be so fun!

Note:

1. Jax will have long hair coz, reasons

2. Jax did not FIND the key