Countdown Narrator!

Countdown Narrator!

He was originally supposed to be a character acted out by another Narrator of mine. But welp.

Have fun with this drawing I guess?

"Oh Stanley~ You made the wrong choice...

Now deal with the consequences of your actions."

Another perspective:

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References used:

(I look for poses on Pinterest to practice anatomy and perspective)

First pose

Second pose

Third pose

Hope you guys liked him! There may be more in the future ;]

SO since I felt like it, and you guys clearly seemed to like him... have a portrait of my countdown Narrator!

As previous, there will be a pose reffrence below..

"Now I present to you:

Countdown Narrator! (He was kind enough to allow a portrait)"

"Hello there~"

"What is it that you called me here for?"

" Just.... stay seated, please. "

"All right, however, I do have to ask. What is that behind me?"

"....fire? Explosion? I'm not sure actually. It's just meant to bring some contrast into the picture"

"..allright...well, hurry up then. It's getting warm in here."

"👍"

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Pose reffrence on Pinterest

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Okay! So! 50% of all voters (of like...5 people (yes, I know it's tecnicaly 6 but only because I dropped my phone on voted on accident)) voted for the comic to be released first!

And if I did the math correctly (which I most likely didn't), nearly an equal amount of people wanted me to release the fanfiction!

So, what if I tried to do both somehow?

What do you think? If any of you have ideas, how I could do it, in a way you'd like to see, please let me know!

I'll write a teaser soon, so you all get to see what a chapter would look like.

Thank you for everyone who voted!

I will post the teased at drawing very soon! And I'm already working on the Comic ^^

Have an amazing day!

Happy Halloween!!

Have this random drawing I made a while ago!

"Are ya cold Lad?"

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Idk why I made this but I hope you like it!

(Its really old)

For everyone who found their way here via a link:

[Tw: Includes swearing and hints at suicide]

The winds are cold, and in the morning, it howls past the walls of the lighthouse, with small droplets of salt water and rain pitter pattering against the fogged up windows of my kitchen.

Once again, I drink my tea, black with a swig of Rum in it to spice things up... for the 50th time in a row.

It wasn't tastes. It wasn't nice, but I had run out of sugar a while ago. And getting any now was pointless and, quite frankly, a waste of time I didn't have.

I finished my coffee, ate a tuna sandwich, and put on the clothes left scattered around the house where I hadn't put them, making my way down town to buy some ingredients for my stew. Of course, with ham, potatoes, and other veggies. Maybe some melted cheese to give it a bit of extra taste.

This stew had been a special meal... Had. Instead, it had become a chore, and even though I dragged myself to my car all the same and the motor once again needed exactly 3 turns of the key to start, it never became easier.

The drive was exactly 20 minutes. And on the way, I barely managed to swerve aside to not hit an animal on the road. I knew it was there, but for some reason, i was always surprised by it notherless.

Tired eyes on the surrounding areas, as I parked the old and rusty truck in front of a convenience store.

Or rather in inconvenience store, as one door always broke right as I enter.

I grab the items I want, smacking the exact amount of money needed on the counter, grumbling about how I won't need a receipt, before leaving the store, ignoring the group of women who had been trying to reach out to me every single day.

"No. I'm not interested in talking to yer scrummy arse." I yell back as the women begin to hiss back insults, but I drive off before they can continue.

It was always a small town, and a few years ago, I would have actually cared about their opinion... but now I don't anymore. It didn't matter if I was polite or impolite anyway... They wouldn't remember.

During the noon, I cut the veggies, blending some after a brief cooking with the molten cheese before letting it simmer with the meat and slowly adding different ingredients and broths to the stew. In the late noon, I go outside, with the stew on low,staring at the Sea solemnly.

"I see a storm comin." I'd say, even though my behaviour today refuses me any person to tell this to. And I'll continue watching the sea for around an hour more. Not moving. Not caring about the cold. It's not like it mattered much...

After which, I'd hurry inside, believing my stew to be overcooked, or burning, or whatever I thought it did.

It didn't, though. It was perfect. As always. Having a meal every single day caused you to do that, even unintentionally sometimes.

I sit back and eat my stew. Or I just stare at it. It's either of the two.

Today was supposed to be my birthday.

Today was supposed to be a feast for my friends, who never showed up. And yesterday was supposed to be my birthday as well. And the day before that. But no matter who I talked to that day, no matter what I did, in no version, anyone showed up.

It never mattered.

My spoon clattered against the bowl and I stare at it tiredly.

I couldn't do this anymore. I just can't take it anymore. Every day..

I look over at the boat rope, laying curled up on the Chair I had left it months ago, before this all started...

Maybe trying it again would work... maybe I'd be free.

Sorry! I selected the wrong time!

Please vote here as well if you'd like!

This poll is for #Hosts Horrors AU!

(The Fanfic will be longer and more detailed but probably takes less time than a whole comic page)

Sorry again!