STATUS:
"Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police."
9 yrs ago
Current
"Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police."
1
like
9 yrs ago
Blue in Dallas
Bio
Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave. The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison. A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy. OctoP.I. sighed, deeply. “Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.”
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.) If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
We're pending the end of exam season, at least that's the case for me and the restorative post. Had my nose buried in a neurology textbook for the last couple weeks.
Cap'n, your cityscapes never cease to amaze me. For a medium that's allegedly so simplistic, I can't help but marvel at the amount of detail you put into these pieces! The scaffolding, the slowly crumbling skyline, oh and the sprites! The first time I viewed it was on a tiny phone screen with terrible resolution, so I didn't notice those little guys until just now when I had the chance to properly admire your work, and I squealed, they make me so happy! Run to your heart's content, little tiny runners, run to victory! <3 Thanks for spoiling me with a ton of fantastic art, you guys!
And Blandy! So glad to see you're joining our slow revival -- welcome back!
It all looks simplistic because my style is fairly minimalist, but my twitter followers can attest to it being 48 hours of me complaining about palettes! It was jolly good fun to draw, though. Even the preliminary designs on paper. I'll upload a white-background image with all of the Runners sprites a little later on (Klaus, in the bottom left, is my personal favourite just because of his stance.)
What's that, up there in the sky? Is it a bird? A plane? Why... why yes, I think it is a plane! A very sensible, grey plane! Being driven at a reasonable speed to the closest convenient airport. THAT CAN ONLY MEAN ONE THING. BLANDMAN HAS RETURNED.
[i]Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave.
The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison.
A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy.
OctoP.I. sighed, deeply.
“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.” [/i]
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)
If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><span class="bb-i">Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave. <br>The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that. <br><br>But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison. <br>A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy. <br>OctoP.I. sighed, deeply. <br>“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.” </span><br><br>Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)<br>If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!</div>