Inscryption Oc - Tumblr Posts
Memorabilia is kind of like my Inscryption Roblox OC, so have a little jank gif
oh, and some art
here's some of my old paper projects from 1-2 years ago.
Love from the shadows (Part 2: Dance Lesson)
Part one of story can be found here: Part 1 Music theme for chapter (Merry go round of life cover by Lull and relax: can be found here: Music
The question had left Juno in shock, the taste of citrus tea burns at her throat as she nearly chokes on her drinking managing to gulp down the herbal brew before speaking out her own question of confusion and in turn Grimora only reiterates her previous statement with a friendly smile.
“How about you teach me how to Waltz today?” The question was clear and simple, a small suggestion on what they should do that evening and yet it still leaves the shadow woman baffled. Staring in disbelief Juno sets down her tea cup her gaze never leaving the corpse woman who picks up a tea cake from a nearby platter. “That is of course, alright with you isn’t it?”
“I…Grimora I’m not sure,” She quickly exclaims stifling her hesitation and bewilderment beneath her cool gaze and neutral tone. “You wish for me to teach you how to waltz? Of all things why is that what you want to do?”
“Why? Well recently I’ve been reading a few books lately; fantasy ones to be exact and in the ones I’ve read they always depict a scene of two character dancing at a ball waltzing in each other’s arms. And I couldn’t but wonder what it would be like to learn how to dance so elegantly.”
“You…You want to learn how to waltz…because of a book you read?”
“Precisely!”
“You…” It took a moment for the words to process in Juno’s mind. Wheels of thoughts and feelings turn and crank in comprehension sending forth a hearty laugh out of her lungs that makes the woman across from her smile even wider. Of course that was the reason. Grimora was always fascinated by the littlest of things at times; mainly about things she read from the books she keeps within her crypt. One time she had read a book about knitting and had learned how to knit mittens and sweaters for each one of her ghostly ghouls as well as the other scrybes. Another time she had discovered a cook book and nearly burnt down half of her crypt after attempting to make chocolate lava cake from scratch. Fortunately no one was hurt, and she eventually learned how to make the dessert properly. Thus hearing the reason as to why the scrybe of the dead wanted to learn how to wants eases a small bit of anxiety that had harbored itself in the shadow’s mind. “Very well I see why you wish to learn but why do you want me to teach you? Do none of your ghosts know how to dance?”
“Sadly no, I even asked them about it but each told me that they didn’t know how to. And of course none of the other scrybes know how to waltz; yet I recall you making mention that you did thus I ask you to teach me. If that is alright of course.”
“You know that I haven’t danced with someone in a long time Grimora.”
“And I have never danced with someone before.”
“It takes practice you know, you may not get the steps right away.”
“I am a patient learner.”
“..That is indeed true…” Another tea cake is plucked from the platter this time by Juno. Covering her mouth with one hand she brings the pastry beneath it and takes a bite out of the sugary confection. Eyes staring towards the ground the next few moments are spent in silence. What was only seconds felt like minutes of endless quietness that is only broken by the sound of crickets chirping nearby and the whistles of springs gentle breezes. And then finally after of minute of silence and stillness Juno stands up. The ink black whisp that make up the lower half of her body begin to receded towards her. Swirling curls solidified into a straight hem that rises higher and higher towards where her ankles would be. Shadows of jet black and deep gray brighten into a soft shade of pale blue fabric ; a blue that perfectly matched to that of the end of her sleeves and from beneath the skirt a bear of leather bound heeled boots stick out from beneath her skirts newly formed hem. Clapping her hands together an old gramophone covered in dust and aged with a few stains is brought forth from one of the gazebo’s shadows by a set of hands that pass off the device to her before vanishing. Setting the record player down onto the chair she had once sat on she cranks it to life with a few turns of a crank that hung off its side powering the vintage music player that sends the sound of staticy old fashion ball room music out through the air. Mentally smiling that it still worked the woman in blue crosses the gazebo her hand extending out to her fellow scrybe her voice soft and compassionate as she speaks with the faintest of chuckles.
“Well then, shall we begin our dancing lesson then?”
………………………………………………………………………………
She was certain that Grimora had lied about never dancing before, that or she was a faster learner than she had anticipated. Steps that had started out heavy and uncertain had quickly become swift and feather like in their design. Turns that nearly resulted in a step or two on her feet transformed into elegant glides within mere minutes, and hands that were once hesitant to hold hers gained a sudden steadiness to them that catches Juno by surprise. In a way she was slightly jealous at how easily the necromancer took to her instructions and guidance; and yet she also could not help but commend her for her swift learning of the dance. Counting the steps appeared to have help as every so often she could her humming the pattern of them beneath her breath.
“One two three, one two three, one two three,” It was like a mantra being chanted over and over again in whisper so faint one could almost not hear them if they were no paying attention. But she was; mainly to ensure that she herself would accidentally step on her feet, or skirt or stumble over a rock as they danced along the circular cobblestone path that surrounded the gazebo. Neither spoke a word beyond her brief directions on what the next step was and the gentle humming and yet words did not have to be said. Even though a few clung onto her non existent lips.
Despite her cool touch Grimora’s arms felt warm around her waist as they stepped into another turn their once rigid postures having relaxed over time the longer they danced. Warmth radiated from the woman like that of a freshly dried blanket that practically engulf her due to how close they stood to each other. The scent of white gardenias and wilted roses fills her nose though she was uncertain if the smell came from her or the gardens that currently surround them but all that she could focus on was her face. Twisted with arching brows furrowed in concentration and lips perused in a flat line that was a mix between a smile and an focused frown the Scrybe of the dead was so focus on ensuring each step was perfect that she did not even notice her staring as her own gaze continuously glances at the ground. As if she couldn’t have looked more adorable already.
Bathed in the moons pale blue light it almost felt as if they themselves were the dancing figures depicted in the books Grimora had mentioned not to long ago. Although they both looked more like the antagonist rather than the heroes and princess of those tales and yet that did not matter; not to them. Juno’s heart was racing now, though her face never showed it thankfully. This moment it felt so perfect, dancing together, held close in each other’s arms without much care for what went on in the world beyond what was happening in that moment. Oh how she wished it could have last forever, however she knew that sooner or later it would come to an end, the faded and scratching notes of the gramophone she had summoned earlier was proof of that. And yet that was when a thought managed to sneak its way into her mind. It was always during scenes such as this where the heroine or hero would pronounce their love right? Well that or after they defeated the villain of the story..so if she wanted..if she could muster up the courage-
“Grimora?” The worlds fell from her lips faster than her mind could process. She didn’t mean to speak aloud and yet it occurred with little thought as the action not only gains the corpse woman’s attention but also makes Juno halt herself in her own tracks as she met her quizzical gaze with her own wavering golden stare.
“There’s no going back now,” is what her mind whispered to her. “It’s now or never..”
“There’s…something..that I want to tell you.”
To be concluded in part 3
The Photographer and the Shadow (Inscryption fan story pt 1)
(Part 1 of a four part story of Juno's interaction with leshy before the events of the game. Next few parts will be posted over the course of the next few days. One part per day until all four parts are posted. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy it! With that all being said let's begin! --Misty)
..........................................................................................................................
Everything was quiet..too quiet..Every Isle all that was there was painstakingly silent. P03’s factory had gone completely offline, machines once powered with electrical life were powered down and left to rust. The hallowed halls of Magnificus tower lacked any magic; his students each still resided within their respective rooms but the wizard himself was no where to be found. Even the once ‘lively’ tombs of Grimora’s crypt were deathly still. Every isle was quite..all except for one. Deep, deep within the forest life continued for those who dwell in it; each one surprisingly more chipper than usual. The Angler had lost any glumness he once held. The Trapper and Trader had been excitedly whispering to each other for hours now. And the Prospector's smile was even more wider than usual. And Leshy knew why. It was the same reason why he himself had been in a far cheerier mood lately. It was the same reason that gifted him three new cards and a new eye for his game…It was the same reason that left him feeling as though the shadows were watching his every move..
“...I know you are there…” He claims to seemingly no one but himself. Raising his head from his hands, his eyes swirling with curls of orange pulsing with acknowledgment as their gaze falls onto the far corner of the room. The corner was blanketed in darkness..nothing was there beyond cobwebs and dust and yet from the depths of the shadowy corner a lone eye opens. Golden in hue and voided of any complex details, yet he could senses the discontentment and mild anger that burned within its gaze. For a moment he holds his tongue his words failing to come forth as he stares back at the yellow orb his fingers nervously tapping against his knuckles as he tries to further read the lone facial feature however as minutes ticked by he knew that his efforts were all in vain. Sucking in a deep breath of still air he exhales it quietly before beckoning for this thing..whatever it was to step closer. “Come on out now. There is no need to hide; I will not bite.”
“No..But you will fight if one comes your way..” Those words… they were mere words and yet they were able to cut through the quickly building tension in the air like a knife. What were word that in the past would have been stated kindly if not the slightest bit bluntly were now frigid and venomous… But the creature in the dark heeds his words.
The first thing to emerge is a hand. Made of inky black skin and draped in a curtain of baby blue fabric it claws at the wall adjacent to it using it as a makeshift leverage point as the rest of the creature followed suit. Seven feet in height, dressed in a blue gown a woman emerges from the dark although it was hard to tell if not for her head of midnight blue hair. She was far shorter than Leshy; at least a good two feet and yet despite it he was the one that felt small as the rest of her body is pulled from the darkened corner. Her face was expressionless. Lacking any mouth the rest of her facial features were drawn out in bright blue lines that made out the distinct details of her nose and brow line but the latter barely moves as she stares at him with a cold hearted gaze.
“...Juno, Scrybe of Shadow,” He proclaims to her solemnly
“Leshy, Scrybe of Beast,” She calmly retorts back in turn.
Silence quickly fell between them as introductions were shortly made. Tensions were rising high. Though he could not entirely tell that she was upset based off facial expressions the stiffness in her posture and the coldness in her voice were enough an indication. His finger scrapes at a scab that had formed on his knuckle, his gaze refusing too pry itself off of the other scrybe even though he desperately wanted to. He knew Juno was not a confrontational type of person. She rarely participated in fights or arguments, and anger was not something that bubbled and brewed in her blood like some of the others. Like another scrybe they both knew; she preferred to talk matters out. To find the civil solution to things without the need for fighting.
But that did not mean that she was completely pacifist; for if a confrontation did need to be made and no one else was around to do it she would be..relatively unafraid to step up to the plate. His hands twitch to grab his camera from beneath the table. Just one careful aim of it, and a click of the shutter and this situation would be over and done with in a single flash. It was that simple..however it wasn’t that simple..Juno was far faster than him. If he even tried to reach for his camera she would snatch it up before he could even reach for it. He couldn’t fight her either; she may be weaker than him in physical strength but in terms of agility he was outmatched as she could easily move through the shadows to escape his grasp; and if she manages to gather enough his own shadow all his efforts to be in vein.
“..I did not come for a fight if that’s what you’re thinking,” But fortunately he was spared the need of having to start a new conversation. “..I’ve come to…Congratulate you. It seems as though you are the victory of this round..Congratulations Scrybe of Beast. Well done.”
“..You do not sound that congratulatory..” He was right. For though Juno’s voice lacked spite; displeasure was still prominent even if she spoke in a hushed and oddly calm tone.
“..No I suppose I do not..However can you truely blame me? After all it’s rather difficult for me to congratulate someone who used such brutal tactics to get what he wanted.”
“The others have done the same in the past-”
“And yet none of them stabbed another scrybe’s eye out!”
Wait how did she-
To be continued in part 2
The Photographer and the Shadow (Inscryption fan story pt 2)
(Part two of four of a four part story. Part one can be found here: Part one) ......................................................................................................................
“H-How did you..”
Leshy’s blood ran cold, or at least whatever the plant equivalent of blood did anyway. Sunken eyes widen in shock and fear as dread pounds at the heart of a formidable beast. A wooden stool is knocked over, as hooves stamp against the ground as the Scrybe of Beast quickly rose up to his full height. His mind yells at him to move, to grab his camera and play the odds hoping to end this once and for all but all he could do was stand there like a deer in headlights. Paralyzed by fear; as he watches the scrybe of shadows quietly walk towards the wall off to the right of them. Bolted down and secured to the walls wood grain was two tools that had never been there before at least not until recently..A rusted hammer that smelt of motor oil, and a aged paintbrush encrusted with moxes. Her fingers come up to graze the handle of the latter.
“You would be surprised on what you can here in the shadows,” She soon proclaims coolly; her gaze transfixed on the two tools welded to the wall. “...What you did was unnecessary Scrybe of Beast..”
“I-I did what was needed..” his voice quietly boomed. “..I did what needed to be done Ju-”
“That is highly debatable. Although; I suppose that some action was necessary but you could have gone about it a better way you know-”
“And risk losing my chance at control? Highly unlikely-"
"It is always power grabs with all of you! It's always about knocking down every obstacle just so one of you can have power over the game! How many times as this occured already? With one of you gaining sole power, poessing it for a while only for it to be ripped from your hands and start the cycle all over again? Its all become some predictable. At this point you've bested every single obstacle that has been thrown your way that I am surprised who haven't full changed the game yet!"
Her words..they rang a thousand and one truths. Someone would win, then they'd lose, then someone else wins and then it starts all over again. Most of the time one of them would gain control for a single day maybe a week at most before it all came crashing down. He himself has been in this very same spot a number of times however..
"Perhaps…although there is still one obstacle I have yet to face..” not once did she ever become an obstacle for him to face in his grabs for power.
The tension in the air was rising again although this time it was by his hand. Finally stealing his nerves the man of nature kneels down. Scooping his knocked over stool off of the floor he sets it down back into its proper place before sitting on top of it. From the darkness he summons forth a map, a deck of cards, his scale..and the always familiar candelabra that was the life line for all those were foolish enough to play a true game of cards. Two flames flicker to life filling a small fraction of the room with a warm orange glow that shimmers in the corner of the shadow’s view. Hunching over the table Leshy unrolls he map with a brush of his fingers that he extends out to her like a friend offering a helping hand, or a fool trying to beseech forgiveness. “Care to play a few rounds with me? Old friend
Juno says nothing at least not at first. In fact for the longest while she simply stood there staring absent mindedly at the wall in silence. He was unsure if it was because she was thinking over his question or not but at least now whatever anger she possibly harbored had died down a significant amount. No longer did it feel like he was being frozen to the bone or crushed by guilt like he was before. However, this does not mean that he lowers his guard. What happens next is unknown to him for now; and one wrong move could send everything into nothing but ruins.
A slight sigh is soon heard from the shadows; her shoulders slumping with the slight heave as she turns her head. Her gaze..it felt so numb now. Like it was devoid of any emotion; it was a look he had seen before in the past although he cannot remember where or even when he did. But it is a thought he does not dwell on long as he watches her finally move. Her footsteps make no sound but each one carries her closer and closer to the table till she is standing in the spot usually reserved for challengers. For a brief moment; Leshy smiles. Warm and kind like that of an old friend as he holds out a deck of cards for her to take. Her hand reaches out..
“...If I was not in such a terrible mood I would have laughed…I would have been delighted to play a few rounds of cards with you…” and moves past the deck. Raising itself high into the air her hand reaches out towards the candelabra and with just two pinches of the candles’ wicks..the flames had gone out.
"However, I am not in the mood..It would all be pointless in the end regardless..”
“So are going to let me inscrybe you? Just like that? No struggle? No fight?”
“Yes, but in exchange..” She claims softly. Bowing her head the scrybe of shadows takes her place in the chair that had been offered to her. Her posture is stiff as she settles her hands in her lap but her voice lacks any malice or regret. “There are however, one or two questions I would like to ask if I am permitted to do so.”
“....Very well…What is it you would like to ask?”
To be continued in part 3
Juno's reign Headcanon part 1
(Hello everyone! Hope you've been doing well! Recently I've been thinking about what would happen if Juno tried to take control of the game just like Leshy and p03 did. As well as why she would do it, and what each scrybe's card would be. So I decided to write it out and now share it here for all of y'all! Breaking this up into two parts cause it is a lot of info. Part 2 will be posted in the near future though! Now with that all said let's begin! --Misty) ........................................................................................................................
Juno was heavily reluctant to do it, to cease control. Every time a chunk of the data washed up onto the shores she would always throw it back as hard as she could. She had seen the truth of the data and wanted nothing to do with it and yet just like the mycologist and the woodcarver she was made into one of the keepers of its secret and every day it was getting harder to keep the data secret. With her fellows Scrybes constant riviarly to find chunks of it first for power…that robots plans for a great transcendenc..the necromancers secret tomb for the bone lord..the beast tamer’s wood carving minion...the wizard’s visions..every day it was getting harder to keep it from surfacing.And the longer it went on the more paranoid Juno became and willing she was to do anything to keep it secret. She already took her own eye to keep others from knowing her awareness of it..so why not go that extra mile?
The data was surprisingly easy to obtain because, all she had to do was wait for it to wash back up on the shore in her island as it always did the minute s new cycle began. What was hard was figuring out how she would dethrone her fellow scrybes. She had never taken over the game before so she didn't exactly know where to start, and it took several days of planning but over time she decided to deal with P03 first
For P03 all she had to do was have Eira break his charger/energy supplies by freezing it. In doing so it cut off the power supply long enough for him to shut down and have her time to collect his shadow and turn it into a card.
Magnificus was second and the quickest to deal with. She used an item of hers called "petrified shadows", a flash bomb sort of item when the jar is broken. A few thrown into his tower was enough to incapacitate him, bounding his eyes in shadows and leaving him dazed just enough to capture his shadow.
Leshy was third and took the longest. The confrontation they had was oddly peaceful though rather time consuming. Before he went, leshy asked for Juno to play a game of cards with him. If she were to beat him he'd go peacefully, if not he'd fight her tooth and nail to avoid his fate. But even with all his tricks, the special mechanics, the grizzly trap she somehow one, granted it took a lot to do so. The game they had went on for roughly three days straight and by the end Juno was disheveled, tired and ready to beat leshy's head with the candelabra but thankfully he kept to his promise and went without a fight.
And lastly..Grimora..she was..the hardest to deal with..not because of the any fighting no grimora was very kind and went willingly..the hard part was for Juno to get over her own emotions as out of all the scrybes Grimora was the one she had grown the most attached to and one knows why. Like leshy grimora asked for a small favor in exchange for her compliance. She asked Juno to take her on a date. Just one day of them being by each other side, together before the inevitable. Of course Juno agreed as she could never say no to her. They spent the whole day playing cards, reading and cuddling, with the last thing they did was taking a long walk to a secret star gazing place they found on leshy's island..and it was there where they danced to the sound of an old radio they found a long time back, and shared their final kiss before Juno took her shadow and turned her into a card..needles to say she had some regrets after doing so.
I NEVER SAW THIS AND I AM SO SO SORRY I DON’T KNOW WHY I NEVER GOT THE TAG THIS US AMAZING AND YOU DESERVE ALL THE PRAISE MY OIVE HOLY SHIT YOU ARE SO RADIANT!!
Okay but seriously the way you did the lineart is simply amazing and I really love the style of the brush you used, and the coloring compliments it very nicely. I love you so much and again I am so so sorry for not having noticed this sooner.
"I hope you all don't mind, but I'm back with a few more acquaintances of mine I'd like to introduce you to if you haven't met them yet!"
Nobol, Scrybe of Matter @nobolofmatter
"Nobol is a cheerful and very creative Scrybe! I sometimes study their crafts from time to time and I've always felt like her skills are top notch!"
"I myself haven't talked much with Nobol which bums me out on my part, they definitely seem to be very interesting! I'm always one for meeting and learning new things about people, so hopefully I'll be able to soon!"
Dreena, Scrybe of Dreams @scrybe-of-dreams
"Hehe, my sky neighbor! Dreena has been one of, if not the first friend I've made since I've arrived on this unique site."
"Dreena is such a sweetheart! They never fail to make me smile or feel happy whenever I visited their realm! Recently however, their realm has been closed and I haven't heard from them in a while. I hope everything's okay, my friend..."
Haya, Scrybe of Chance @scrybeofchance
"My, what a creative field for a Scrybe to focus on! Inscryption itself has a lot of chance involved in its tactics and who you play against, and to have an entire deck themed around that chance seems thrilling! I guess that thrilling energy matches with Haya as well."
"All in all, she seems like a bold and brave person who is all for exploring and chatting with new people, kind of like me! Perhaps we will run into one another on our travels, I'm eager to learn more about her."
"Mm, seems I must return back to my work for a little while longer.. Well, hopefully I can sit down sometime soon and discuss with my guests for a little while! I have gotten some endearing mail from you all and I love every bit of it! May your own journeys be exciting and rewarding!" - Sidra
(EDIT: Fixed a few details I missed beforehand, don't mind me- ;v;) - Fool
The Meeting (COMLETE COMIC)
"Ah, I'm finally back! And with a bit of a fresh pallet! I hope my little break didn't worry any of you, but I'm sure I'm here to stay for a much longer time!"
Hoh boy-- I haven't posted for a little over a month- I really do apologize about that, life got a lot more busy than I'd like to admit, but I think I'm through the worst of it for now- I should be able to post on here a lot more often and I'm glad to both finally get this comic done and start talking with you all again!^^ -Fool
THE OLD SCRIBES
OLD_DATA store a lot of different information that they have ever come into contact with. Even if game code is changed from the outside, nothing disappears completely. Even if some parts of game were deleted during development, OLD_DATA will store information about them. And when time comes, everything will return to begining.
And THE OLD SCRIBES will return.
Meet the characters for my small alternate universe, essence of which is that after deleting game and restoring it with OLD_DATA, not only characters we already know were recreated, but also those that were removed from project for some reason. After all, the way we see "Inscryption" as a result, may not be the original version. And perhaps even SCRIBES already known to us were not original version of game’s bosses.
So let me introduce you to predecessors of "original" SCRIBES who were removed by developers and restored after an attempt to delete the game.
DRYAD, THE SCRIBE OF FLORA
DRYAD is first character to appear in game as a supposed boss. Her main aspect is various plants and everything related to their care. She creates maps with her watering can, or to be precise, with its contents, which is a green resinous substance.
Despite its intimidating appearance, DRYAD is actually quite peaceful. She probably doesn't like conflicts. According to her, "quarrels and swearing harm plants, they grow poorly and wither quickly." All she wants is a good fair card game and good company. After all, it can be lonely in the forest, and other SCRIBES don't always come to her. DRYAD speaks of herself in the plural, because, according to her, she is spirit of the forest, and spirit cannot have any clear identity, because spirit speaks on behalf of all forest plants. However, DRYAD believes that if she were a simpler being, then most likely she would be a woman, and therefore, for the convenience of addressing her, she advises to address her with a feminine gender.
COPERNICUS, THE SCRIBE OF ATLAS
COPERNICUS is second supposed boss in the game. His main aspect is various celestial bodies, starting with stars and ending with nebulae and galaxies. COPERNICUS creates cards from ATLASES that he writes while studying stellar sky.
COPERNICUS is a rather grumpy and withdrawn man who prefers a solitary stay in his observatory to a noisy company. He doesn't like a lot of things, and he's not afraid to express his discontent, although he does it quite politely. He can spend his days at work making new ATLASES and cards. Fortunately, he, as SCRIBE, does not need rest. In addition, his observatory is a huge tower reaching up to the stars, and therefore he can study the sky without waiting for the sun to set. However, no matter how bad his character was, COPERNICUS, as SCRIBE, would never refuse several card games. But you should understand that during the game his grouchiness appears in full force, because he likes to criticize the opponent's style of play.
CHARMEL, THE SCRIBE OF TALES
CHARMEL appeared around the same time as THE SCRIBE OF SCIENCE, and there has been a dispute between two of them for a long time about who appeared earlier. CHARMEL has at her disposal all sorts of TALES and legends, according to which she subsequently composes ballads and poems.
CHARMEL's mood is quite changeable, and therefore you never know what to expect from her. She is cheerful and carefree, she is characterized by excessive cruelty, she is able to create a romantic mood and in just a couple of seconds turn it into an atmosphere of oppressive longing and sadness. Only thing that can be said for sure is that she is a good actor. After all, most likely everything she shows to the public is not her real self. Even the other SCRIBES can't understand her real motives. And it only seems to amuse her. CHARMEL loves to cheat and deceive, and this is clearly seen during the game with her: distractions, flattery, substitution and theft of cards. After all, all means are good for achieving victory.
T-STEIN, THE SCRIBE OF SCIENCE
As mentioned earlier, T-STEIN appeared at the same time as THE SCRIBE OF TALES, and therefore it is still unclear which of them appeared earlier. And such uncertainty irritates the hell out of him, because he is just responsible for the aspect as a SCIENCE. Chemistry, biology, medicine, robotics - all this is his path. For him, the main role in any dispute is played by facts. And sometimes, in order to get them, he is ready to go far enough. Perhaps even deep into someone, because it is thanks to his scientific research that he creates cards, sometimes putting not too ethical experiments on those who fall under his arm.
T-STEIN is extremely eccentric and aggressive towards others. He clearly considers himself smarter than others and it is extremely difficult to convince him of anything. According to him, few of his entourage are able to understand him, because "only a genius can understand a genius". However, T-STEIN may well accept someone else's rightness if he is provided with solid evidence. Of course, it can sometimes be quite difficult to prove anything to him, but if you succeed, then you may well deserve his respect. However, you should be careful in getting it, because if he thinks that you are only wasting his time, which he would spend on his research, then you may well become part of these research. The same applies to those who will risk playing with him: it is not easy to defeat him, because he often uses rather strange and unexpected moves that can confuse the protvinik. Sometimes T-STEIN creates cards right during the battle, thereby obtaining various unusual combinations.
I'm already working on the mechanics of their cards, and I plan to make a separate post about them. If you are interested, then write, it is important for me to know! Bonus: comparison of the growth of SCRIBES and OLD SCRIBES.
"Do Forest have dreams?"
Two semi-Eldritch semi-goddests met.
Two semi-Eldritch semi-goddests met.
I don't draw very well, but I really wanted to draw them on the same canvas.
DRYAD, THE SCRIBE OF FLORA by me.
DREENA, THE SCRIBE OF DREAMS by @scrybe-of-dreams
Hi! I'm a beginner here, I want to start blogging on my OLD SCRIBES, and I would really like to see you perform one of them (of your choice). But I decided that it would be a little unfair not to give anything in return, so here, hold pixel May! I don't know how tall she is, so I decided to make a bigger version and a smaller version.
hey how do you do fellow inscrybble enjoyers
so theres this huge lore on how may and magda tie into the lore of the game but im too ?????? to draw it so im here with a trade offer in the meantime
i receive: consent to draw ur inscrybble oc
you receive: fanart of ur inscrybble oc (potentially with may inserted idk man)
OH YES YES MY FOREST ELDRITCH CHILD-
@friedrichnapier
im so sorry i went overboard----
i wanted to draw her cute hooves,, but i didnt know how to draw hooves :((((
then i was like,,,, tail????? and it was too late i was already shading the tail :(((((((
and then it was cloth,,,,,,,?????? and i was like no stop this is not and i was already done :(((((((((((((((
Dreena.
Dreena, The Sribe of Dreams by @scrybe-of-dreams
Boatman.
Boatman (???The Scribe of Metamorphoses???) by @pineapplesquash
Sidra.
Sidra, The Sribe of Stars by @sidra-the-scrybe
Working on a lil smt. I've been thinking about inscryption non stop (and developed a crush on Leshy the tree peepaw but we don't talk about that) so I decided to make an oc to write some fics.
I don't have much yet but here's Domenique, pronouns they/them. Initially they were a human who lived in PO3's island and worked at the factory, but after volunteering to let PO3 test his game mechanic of turning cards into beasts, the process went horribly wrong and they ended up as a satyr-like creature, half fawn half human. PO3 prioritized building back up the failed machine before helping them so they ran to the others scrybes for help, eventually finding Leshy. Despite the initial dislike and mistrust they felt towards the Scrybe of the beasts and his domain (because lets be honest, PO3 probably brainwashed them hard into hating anything that wasn't robotic or technology), they eventually got used to the forest and organic beings and ended up bonding with Leshy too. Now Nic lives happily in Leshy's domain and plays a blood deck, eventually becoming one of the mini bosses others have to defeat before fighting Leshy.
Some small details I've added are the clover on their head from the mechanic of re rolling cards in certain encounters, a hook from the angler, their top being made out of a golden pelt from the trapper, a few of their earrings being made out of gold from the prospector, and ofc, a moon necklace from Leshy himself
Posting in AO3 is way too intimidating to me because it's full of such great writing so. I'm just gonna. Leave this here instead of there and run. First chapter of my Inscryption fic:
Lost little fawn
Another flying ant fell as they slammed their palm against it, killing the bug against a nearby tree. They wrinkled their nose and cleaned off the goo from the bug, feeling repulsed by it. “I hate this stupid forest.” They mumbled under their breath, fanning their hands to keep the bugs away. “Botopia didn’t have bugs.” They lamented, and with their next step, their hoove fell into a mud puddle. They groaned in annoyance, taking their hoove out of the wet dirt and shaking it to clean it off momentarily. Botopia didn’t have mud, either. But then again, they hardly belonged there anymore.
With a sigh, they continued walking through the rough path. Their bag felt heavier than ever as they carried it on their back, but leaving it was hardly an option. In a way, they wished that the bag had been heavier. It carried everything they had ever owned, after all.
Their ears perked up and moved at every tiny noise from the forest. A snap of a twig, ruffling of leaves, anything. They felt unsafe in the woodlands and would not let their guard down. Who knew what creature could leap out from the darkness and attack them? They were clumsy enough as is, with those bothersome new hooves and legs to get used to that still made them lose their balance occasionally, even after days of walking. The uneven terrain did not help at all. They didn’t need a beast chasing them on top of that. A grizzly, a wolf, hell, even a stoat could overpower them in that moment —stupid forest and stupid beasts and stupid everything.
They missed the factory. The loose dirt underneath their hooves was nothing like the cold metallic floor they were used to, just like the air filled with the smell of melted materials compared to the damp atmosphere they were in right now, scents of different beasts surrounding them and merging, making the task of figuring out what exactly lurked behind the shadows impossible. They missed the clanking of machines or clogs moving in unison, their ears finding patterns in those familiar sounds they never thought they would sicken for. Instead, now they were enveloped by random critters and cries, their head snapping every once in a while to an unexpected direction just to check they were still safe. Nothing followed a pattern in that disorganised hell. How did nature bloom in such chaos yet refuse to do so in the factory, where everything and everyone had its place? Nonsense. But then again, they weren’t complaining about that. Botopia was much better than those lands, full of disgusting lifeforms. Inferior and frail ones. Imperfect.
Yet, for as much as they missed their home, a subtle pain settled down in their chest. They stopped and looked down at their new legs. P03 had no sense of empathy or care for its people, that much they had realised too late. They scolded themselves yet again. Looking back, volunteering for P03 to test a new card mechanic had been stupid. More than stupid, idiotic. Ridiculous. Nonsensical. Mindless. And many other adjectives of the same meaning. Of course, it had seemed like a bright idea at the time. They were P03’s favourite, were they not? It had taken them in as one of its own robots, despite being fully human. And they had not disappointed. They had learnt from the scrybe of technology. Later on, it taught them, but they had to use other methods initially. Seeing parts of plans, overhearing conversations not meant for them, sneaking glances at code. And each time, they had returned to their beloved scrybe with a solution for its worries. A fixed version of the code P03 had tackled from the wrong angle. A list of vulnerabilities that could arise from the plans it made. P03 was at first angry at them for interfering, jealous even that they could spot things a robot as perfect as itself could not.
But those feelings soon faded, being replaced with pride as the scrybe realised they had no ill intent and only meant to help. To learn from it. P03 saw greatness in them. It told them if they worked hard enough, they could become the best apprentice in the factory. And they did. They worked hard, harder than any machine or living being. They offered to be P03’s lab rat, both when it came to trying out new game mechanics and strategies. So, of course, when the robot requested a volunteer to try out a new game mechanic, a sort of bonus that would let a robot turn every other turn into a beast… Well, they were the first and only ones to present themselves. To test the machine, P03 first had to ensure it worked on living beings, be they robots, humans, beasts, or, paradoxically, skeletons. Then, it would move on to test it on cards. They didn’t understand the process perfectly, but that’s why P03 was the scrybe, and they weren’t. They understood technology but not quite magic, let alone the mix of the two. P03 knew better. It wouldn’t endanger its most precious apprentice just because of a possible game mechanic, right?
Things did not go according to plan.
And now, here they were. In the middle of the woodlands, cold, tired, angry. Betrayed. They kept walking, the soft moaning of the wind caressing their ears, the sound of their hooves hitting the dirt echoing through the forest. Not long after, they finally reached it —the dreaded cabin in the woods. Property of Leshy, scrybe of the beasts. The only hope they had left.
They stared at the door, hesitating. P03 had refused to aid them after the machine malfunctioned, saying that the piece of machinery was a priority, along with the game mechanic. They had then travelled to the tower of mages and wizards, but Magnificus had apparently been too busy “training” his students to even look at their problem. Then they went to Grimora, and while the old lady had been far more affable than anyone else, she could not do anything to aid them, as her powers had little to no effect on the living. Alas, they found themselves before the door of the scrybe of the beasts. They had learned to hate Leshy and all he stood for. P03 had told them how ugly nature is, how imperfect it is. Yet P03 had turned its back on them, and Grimora had suggested visiting Leshy. They had nothing to lose, after all.
With a heavy heart, they knocked on the wooden door and waited.
Welp, there it is. The main character is my newest OC so I'm still getting used to writing them, but I think I like how it ended up. This would take place in a state of the game equivalent to act 2, not sure yet if I want it to be right before Leshy taking over or a different state of the game altogether. I have a rough general idea of where I want to take this, but for once Im enjoying writing as I go, so who knows where this could end up at. If you are still here, thank you for reading! <3
. Starting off very well with the challenge yesterday I completely forgot to share that I'm posting each day in AO3! I also forgot to share yesterday's entry here, so, I'm gonna leave both the link and the entry now:
Day 2: Apple scent
Nic was hungry. Starving, more precisely. They held their stomach tightly, their fingernails digging into their exposed flesh as they stumbled around the forest in a desperate search for something, anything to put into their mouth. PO3 had always fed the now-satyr; as long as they worked in the factory their plates were full and wallets… not as full, but still with enough foils to afford some extra meals here and there if needed. But it wasn't like the machine had done it out of the kindness of its cold, robotic heart, no. Instead, it had been to keep Nic alive, a way to ensure its precious resource didn't expire. A minor inconvenience the scrybe of technology had been willing to stand to assure its biological helper didn't run away so it could keep exploding Nic.
But now? Nic knew there was no coming back to the factory, no pleading with that insensible metal box to take them back. It wasn’t like it would have greeted them with open arms anyway. As they walked, Nic tripped over something, and too weak to react in time, they collapsed on the ground with a thud. Groaning, the satyr sat up, carefully examining their foo- hoove to check for any visible injury. They felt a wave of relief wash over them as both their hooves seemed and felt unharmed, soon overshadowed by a piercing stab of hunger in their belly. Nic curled up, clutching their abdomen and muttering an array of curses.
Regardless, they got up once more. The hunger was stubborn, but so was Nic.
Their eyes scouted the area in search of anything remotely edible, occasionally glancing down at the uneven terrain. “Your legs are skinny and weak. They lack proper muscles. You must eat and walk more”, Leshy had told them not too long ago. At the time, Nic had merely scoffed —as if that old bunch of twigs and leaves knew what he was saying. The problem wasn't their “lack of musculature” or diet; it was that their human legs were gone, replaced by those stupid satyr ones. “Stupid satyr legs, stupid new body, stupid PO3, stupid fore-” their mumbling trailed off as they spotted something. Hidden in between some bushes, the satyr managed to spot a glimpse of a reddish colour in between the foliage. Their ears went up instinctually as if checking their surroundings before hesitantly approaching the bush. Berries. Those were actual berries.
Something within them rattled with hesitation, as if warning the brain not to proceed. But hunger overrode caution. They lunged themselves towards the bush in a starving frenzy, rashly yanking the small red globes from the bush and shoving them into their mouth. For a few blissful seconds, relief washed over their body. It seemed too good to be true—and it was. A bitter, vile taste flooded their mouth as soon as they started chewing on the strange berries. Nic’s fur spiked up, their nose scrunched in disgust, their ears pointing downwards. Gagging, the satyr quickly spat out the berries, coughing out any bits that could have gone down their throat. Their stomach growled harsher than before, making Nic bend over in pain. The promise of food and the sudden lack of one had only made matters worse; it felt like the woods were teasing them, mocking them. A few tears threatened to appear in Nic’s eyes, but they refused to let them fall. They would not cry. They would not let that weak, imperfect, organic forest win. Nic was better. Nic would not succumb like all those beasts around them; Nic was NOT one of those beasts!
A maelstrom of emotions filled Nic’s mind—frustration, exhaustion, anger, resentment. They couldn’t bear it any longer, and against their better judgment, they let out a primal yell as they stomped on the damned bush. Hidden spines retaliated, attaching themselves to the satyr’s fur, but this only fueled their anger. It only made them want to destroy every single thing that resided in that forest even more. Their hooves went down with crushing force on the plant, the few remaining berries getting squashed on the ground and leaving sticky, crimson sap on the dirt. They grunted and huffed as they used all their remaining strengths to take revenge on the bush.
Minutes later, Nic stood panting for air, famished, and with those wretched spines still clinging to their legs and lodged in between their hooves. Their breath was ragged, the stinging aftertaste of the berries remaining in the back of their mouth as bile threatened to rise from their painfully empty stomach. It growled again, and Nic clenched their fists in frustration.
“Food”, they reminded themselves, as if the thought had slipped away in their frantic waste of energy “I need food”.
So, without letting their hunger stop them, the famished satyr plucked away the spines from their pelt and forced their legs to stop shaking. They inhaled deeply, getting ready to keep going, when they heard something—a subtle crack , loud enough for their receptive ears to catch. Nic’s right ear twitched, so they turned in that direction, only to find a small squirrel standing next to a rotting tree stump that the satyr had passed earlier. A small, brown squirrel that had a nut in between its tiny hands. Nic stayed still, very still, and observed the animal further. The squirrel was small and probably faster than them. But it was also weak. And Nic was hungry .
Before they realized what was happening, Nic threw themselves at the squirrel. The small rodent let out an alarmed squawk and shoved the nut in its mouth before running away, Nic following closely. The squirrel dashed through the forest ground, agile, almost as if following a hidden path only it could see. All while Nic stumbled over and tried to recover their balance repeatedly; the uneven terrain and sudden turns made it even harder for their legs to work like they wanted, trying to step and run as they were used with their human body. Ragged and uneven breaths tore from their throat, sweat dripping from their forehead and pain shooting up from their hooves and hind legs as they begged for a stop but were forced to keep going. Yet moments later, the pursuit proved to be another failure. The little beast ran up a tree with ease and hid inside a hole in its trunk, far too high for Nic’s exhausted body to reach. The satyr panted for air as they looked upwards, as if hoping the squirrel would come out with its tiny arms full of nuts to share.
Was that all, then? Defeated, time and time again by that realm home of small critters and dangerous beasts, tricky and deceiving, filled with nothing but pain and… sweet smells? Nic’s stomach roared again, the now-familiar pain gnawing at their empty insides. But the satyr was too focused on something else to care. That smell. They sniffed the air, their nose now proving much more useful than it had ever been. It was there—faint, mixed with scents of musk and dirt and other fragrances that made the forest smell as it did. But that smell was different. It belonged, it wasn’t a foreign one like the scent that lingered in their older clothes from the factory, oily and pungent to no end, with hints of smoke from the large pipes that polluted the air and everything around them. No, this scent belonged to the forest. A sweet, rich, apple scent that made the satyr’s stomach growl.
Without much of an alternative, Nic let their body guide them. Their hooves stepped carefully through the undergrowth, their nose being the only guide to tell them where to step next. They took reluctant steps at first—Nic’s mind wasn’t too happy or trusting of this new side of them that acted as a guide, that instinct that fit more the mind of a beast rather than the one of a machine. Yet the hunger lingered and grew, and their muscles were already too exhausted as it were to spend any remaining efforts in any other useless attempts. So for once, they turned off their rational side and just let their senses guide them.
The hesitant movements soon turned into decisive strides—their legs lunged their body forward in small jumps every time their hooves met the ground, impulsing themselves into the air for a fraction of a second before returning to the soft soil and repeating the process all over again. Nic was soon dashing through the forest, the scent growing stronger and stronger as they moved. It wasn’t only their legs that allowed them to move faster, but their whole body working in tandem to reach their destination. Nic’s ears twitched when their head neared a branch or another obstacle, allowing them to duck before that happened; their tail moved along with the direction of their upper body and helped them keep their balance in those tight turns they hadn’t been able to perform earlier. The satyr felt a surge of adrenaline from within, and a vague sense of something they couldn’t quite determine. Despite the sweat, pain, and overall uncomfortableness, a smile tugged at Nic’s lips.
That was, until they reached the origin of that sweet, juicy apple scent. Leshy’s cabin. Nic stopped before the small house, catching their breath as it dawned on them what had happened. Inside the cabin, the elderly scrybe of the beasts carefully sliced what looked like a homemade apple pie, its aroma filling the air and reaching the famished satyr. Nic’s stomach growled once more, impatient, and Leshy turned his head. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, the young satyr staring at the older one as he stared back, knife in hand. Nic was tired, hungry, and now scared as they recalled the way they had parted from Leshy’s care—they had refused their help as soon as they were capable of standing on their hooves again, insulted the scrybe for trying to nurse them as if they were a fawn or a weakling, for bringing them clothes that fit their new body better and keeping them safe and warm inside his cabin as their ankle recovered. Nic wouldn’t have been happy if they had been in Leshy’s position. If they had been in the scrybe’s shoes, they would have raised the knife and run after Nic until they were no longer. The younger satyr’s fur spiked up in horror as they realized they wouldn’t be able to outrun the scrybe of the beasts in his own realm, even if it meant saving their own life.
Leshy held their gaze through the window for a few seconds, then glanced back down to the pie. He brought down the knife and finished slicing a triangular piece, a bit bigger than he had meant to, but no matter. The tree satyr hummed as he set the portion of pie on a plate, only to then repeat the process. He wasn’t oblivious to the way the little fawn’s mouth watered at the sight of the pie Grimora had so kindly baked and gifted him with the apples he had grown for her. And it seemed like the aroma had also caught their attention. Moving slowly, with the experience of one used to dealing with frightened animals, he reached out and extended his arm through the open window, offering the plate with a bigger slice of apple pie to Nic. The hesitation was evident, their ears flattened and their tail hidden in between their legs as he debated whether or not to accept his offer. And then, in the blink of an eye, the slice was gone and the younger satyr was devouring the food with a hunger of a pack of wolves. Leshy would have offered them a spoon or fork if needed, but it seemed they were far too hungry to wait for utensils.
The scrybe of the beasts hid a smile beneath his leafy beard, amused by how quickly the fawn had forgotten their pride in favour of basic needs such as nourishment. A hint of surprise rose above, too; the older satyr hadn't expected the young fawn to last for so long in such unfamiliar lands without added help. He welcomed the surprise, either way, and as the fawn finished the pie and locked eyes with him again, he gestured to the door. There was much they could learn about the forest and its residents, and whether Nic liked it or not, it seemed like that place would serve as their new home. At least, until they figured out a way to change their new body for their old one. But in the meantime, they had plenty of apple pie to share.