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About Digital Art / Hobbyist Premium Member Angelica KeroFemale/Canada Groups :iconpolystyles: PolyStyles
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Those Who Play for Ghosts by TheMichaelMacRae

Those Who Play for Ghosts

by TheMichaelMacRae

Do you prefer my grey tone drawings or my full colour ones? 

67%
4 deviants said Grey tones, please! (example: geli-k.deviantart.com/art/Bffs… )
33%
2 deviants said Full colours look awesome! (example: geli-k.deviantart.com/art/New-… )

Activity


    “Alrighty, kiddo, time for bed!”

    “But Mom!” Ryan squirmed in Kat’s arms as she carried him over her shoulder into his tiny closet of a bedroom, pummelling her back with his tiny fists. “Bunny and Saul get to stay up late!”

    “Well, I’m not their mother!” Kat dropped Ryan gracelessly onto the bed. The springs creaked and groaned as he bounced. “Don’t whine! It’s seven o’clock, and we both know what that means.”

    “Time to shut my mouth and shut my eyes, I know!” Ryan sighed with all the dignity his six-year-old self could muster and pushed his mop of black hair from his face. “Tell me a story, Mom? Please?”

    “If you wanted one, you should’a asked half an hour ago, Squirt.” Kat grinned and put her hands on her hips. “Did you have a good day, today?”

    He pouted and played with his toes. “Yeah. I finished a story book all by myself and made a block tower with Bunny and Saul.”

    Kat tightened her dirty-blonde ponytail. “They’re nice kids.”

    He wrinkled his freckled nose. “Yeah, but Bunny keeps changing colour. It’s freaking me out.”

    Kat still wasn’t sure when she ought to tell her son about Monsoon, about the Mutants that the company bred, and about how that everyone who lived in this stupid, stinking, broken-down warehouse were Mutants.

    It’s dangerous for him not to know, she thought, scratching the wide scar that stretched over her nose. I can’t tell him everything, obviously, but I can get him used to it. It’s a tough world, and he’ll never stop fighting for each breath as soon as he gets old enough. I won’t be able to protect him, forever.

    Kat heaved a sigh. “You know what? You can have a story, tonight.”

    Ryan clapped his tiny hands. “Yay! Thanks Mom, you’re the best!”

    Kat lay down on the cot next to Ryan, and he curled up to her, resting his head on her shoulder. She tucked her arm around him and pulled him against her as she mused about how to start explaining things properly. “Ryan?”

    “Yeah?”

    “Do you remember that trip we took into town last week?”

    He frowned. “Yeah. It was weird. There were people everywhere and they stared at us kinda funny. It was kinda fun and cool, though.”

    She played with a lock of hair on his forehead and danced around the subject. “You know that most people don’t live like we do, right? In a big old warehouse, partly underground? In a bunker, essentially?”

    “I like the bunker. It’s cozy.”

    “And safe, yeah.” Ryan’s safety had been and always will be number one on her mind.  “Most people live in towns and cities like where we were, last week. I used to live in a place like that, long ago.”

    His eyes were wide with awe. He crawled under the covers and wrapped his pudgy fingers around the sleeve of her coat. “Really?”

    Kat sighed a little as old memories wandered through her head, some welcome, some not. “Yeah. I’m from New York. It’s a big, big city, I don’t think you can even imagine it. That’s where I grew up.”

    “Wow! Where is it?”

    “Not too far, I guess. A few hours’ drive, maybe?” She shook her head. She was getting off topic. “Anyway… when I was a little kid, just about your age, I was… I was told that I was sick. Really sick.”

    Ryan looked almost comically concerned. “You were sick? Sick with what?”

    “The thing is, Squirt,” she said, tucking him into the blankets and closer to her body, “I wasn’t actually sick. They just told me I was.”

    “They lied to you?”

    “I’ve been lied to about a lot of things. That’s why I don’t lie to anyone.”

    “Never?”

    “Never. I got taken to the doctor’s office a lot, but it wasn’t really a doctor’s office.” Kat closed her eyes. Here was one of the many, many words that she could hardly stand saying aloud, and one of the words that was whispered in hushed tones among the Mutants. “It was… a laboratory.”

    “Laboratory…” Ryan rolled the word around in his mouth, looking puzzled. “What’s that?”

    “It’s where people study science and things like that. My point is that we weren’t patients. We were experiments.” Kat closed her eyes, pushing back the memories of sterile chairs, long needles filled with strange liquid, and the sound of sobbing children. “I was the only one who survived.”

    Ryan looked shocked and scared. He pulled the blankets up to his chin. “They… they died?

    “Yes.”

    Ryan curled up against her side and whimpered. “I don’t like this story, Kat.”

    “I don’t, either,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, Squirt, but you need to hear it. This is important stuff, okay?”

    “Why is it important?” he mumbled into her sleeve.

    “Because the bad, awful things that happened to me in that laboratory were the start of something big. Bigger than you or me. Bigger than all of us here at the warehouse. Bigger than an entire country.” Kat heaved a sigh. This was a lot for her little guy to hear. “Those experiments happened when I was a kid, a hundred years ago or so. Since then, the company that owned the laboratory grew and grew. They’re called… Monsoon.”

    Ryan opened his wide grey eyes and looked up at her solemnly. “I’ve heard that name. Some of the other grown-ups were talking about it.”

    “Everyone in this building is from Monsoon,” she said softly. “All of us, in one way or another. Some people were born there. Some were made into Mutants after we were born, like me, and some were born from Mutants who escaped.”

    “Mutants?”

    “That’s what we are. It’s what they call us and what we call ourselves. We’re not like normal… humans.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth. She questioned whether she should stop telling the story, now, but opted to continue. He needed to know, and the earlier he found out, the earlier he could get used to it. “I’m an Original. One of the first people to become a Mutant, and I was born a human. The Produced Mutants were born in Monsoon. You’re an Organic.”

    “Organic?” he asked in a tiny voice. “I’m… a Mutant?”

    “Yes,” she said, hating herself for telling him these terrible things. “I gave birth to you the normal way. You’re a normal kid, but your Mom is a Mutant, which means you’re half-Mutant.” She began to worry that this was too complicated for him. “Do you get it?”

    “… Kinda.” Ryan wrapped an arm around her stomach. “So why do we live here? Why don’t we live in the city?”

    “Because Monsoon wants us back,” Kat said. “We ran away because it was terrible, there. We were trapped in tiny rooms, had to eat gross food, and we had to do everything they said, to say the least… We have to hide from them. If we don’t…” She couldn’t think of a way to say it that wouldn’t frighten him. “… I’ll tell you all about it when you’re older.”

    He looked worried. “Is it bad if they catch us?”

    “Yes.”

    “Very bad?”

    “Very, very bad.”

    Ryan twisted the moth-eaten sheets in his fingers. “What do they want to do to us? Why do they want us back? Why can’t they leave us alone?”

    Kat sighed. “It’s… complicated, Squirt. They want us back so they can do more tests… and so we won’t tell the world what they’ve done to us. We’re their little science projects. They want us in their pockets. We have to stay away from them. We have to stay safe.”

    “What makes us Mutants?” he asked. “You said we’re not like normal people… What makes us different?”

    “You and I can heal from anything,” she said. “Remember when you cut your hand yesterday?”

    “Yeah?” He held up his palm. The skin was clear and unmarred. “Why?”

    Kat took his hand and pressed her thumb into the centre of his palm. “When humans get cut, it takes weeks for it to heal.”

    He looked surprised. “Really? Wow. All humans?”

    “Every last one. And humans don’t live very long, either. Mutants like you and me can live for a long, long time. We don’t know how long, yet, but I’m more than a hundred years old.”

    “That’s long.” Ryan sat up. “So… we kind of have superpowers?”

    “Some of us do, I guess,” she admitted. It might be better if he thought of it like that. “We’re the lucky ones.”

    “We’re like Wolverine!” He lunged across her, grabbed some pencils from his bedside table and gave himself claws. “Grr!”

    “Some of us are worse off, though,” she said, plucking the pencils from his hands and setting them down. “You know Saul?”

    Ryan tilted his head, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Yeah?”

    “Well, they hurt him. He can’t see.”

    He crossed his arms, defensive. “He can run around like the rest of us, it’s not so bad. But he can’t read or anything, and he’s not so good at fighting. Uncle James is blind, too.”

    “Yeah. He’s also invisible. Invisible means blind, lots of people forget that. There are plenty of others who don’t have superpowers and they just look…” Kat sighed. “Sad. We’re lucky. We look human. Lots of others here don’t.”

    “Like Lisa?”

    Kat flinched when she thought about her… no hands to speak of, only sticky, mutated… things. “Yes. Like Lisa.”

    “… And Arnold?”

    Poor Arnold. Scales had erupted in patches all over his body, his fingers and toes were webbed, and his lips and teeth were… fish-like. “And Arnold.”

    Ryan sighed. “So that’s why we don’t go out, much? So we don’t get caught?”

    “Yes.”

    He frowned and sat up, facing her. “That sucks! We should get to go out!”

    “I agree. Don’t worry about it, tonight. The grown-ups are working on it.”

    “Are you?” he asked hopefully. “You’re gonna make sure that we never get caught?”

    “Yes. I promise.” Kat climbed out of the bed, tucked Ryan into the covers, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I swear on my life that Monsoon will never get you. Okay?”

    “Okay,” he said with a small, innocent smile. “Mom, can you teach me how to shoot?”

    She sighed. “Not tonight.”

    “Tomorrow?”

    “We’ll see. Goodnight, Squirt.” Kat walked to the door and pulled on the cord that dangled from the ceiling, turning the light out in his room. As the door closed behind her, she heard his reply.

    “Goodnight, Mom. Love you.”

Squirt
Little prelude to the new(est) version of Kat's Tale.

lordy I hate writing sometimes. seriously. how many "first chapters" have I written of KT? this one is a winner, though. I've written almost 200 pages of this shit and I have a PROPER OUTLINE. it's working.

*ahem* Anyway, you get what you see. It's an explanation of the new Kat's Tale universe and an introduction to Kat and baby Ryan (I love kids)

thoughts?
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i ded
much busy
such tired
uhhhh
Routine by Geli-K
Routine
Phew. Just a little thinger to get the ball rolling in the art world, again. I've had a bit of an art block, and I've been way too busy.
(drew this when I was running a stand at the flea market, yesterday, between selling crap and playing pokemon on my nintendo). I just like drawing cities. c:

Just an average day for Kat Tana...
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Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)

    9:57 P.M.

    Lynette Silas

    Charlie’s expression was absolutely priceless as she finally puts the pieces together. This is what I live for. The shock in their eyes as they realize that I was not their friend, I never had been. The horror in their expressions as I smile at them and draw my knife.

    The emotions in Charlie’s eyes faded quickly. Now, they are dead. Blank.

    Her gaze flicks over to Lizzie. It is the only evidence that the gears are still turning in her head. I honestly do not see why she is so concerned about that other girl. She is annoying and wears tacky, chipped nail polish.

    “Why have you singled me out?” she asks. I open my mouth and she cuts me off with, “I know you say I’m “interesting”, but big deal. A turtle can be interesting. Why are you doing this?”

    “I promised to be straightforward with you, and I will be.” I sigh slightly. “You say I singled you out. I suppose I did. But think about it… would you rather have been cracked across the back of the head with a wooden board, tied up and cut with knives?”

    Charlie frowns and bites her lip. Her shoulders are shaking.

    “I like you because you refuse to be intimidated. You are strong. You are stubborn. You are brave. You are very clever.” I reach for her and tuck a loose hair behind her ear.

    She stares at my hand like it is a tarantula, but does not move away.

    I allow my hand to linger for a moment. “Those are redeeming qualities in anyone, ones that you have already demonstrated to me, tonight.” I draw my hand back. “We seem to be polar opposites in most areas, but we are similar.”

    “Enlighten me.” Her voice is terse and her eyes are not focussed on me. She is still looking at Lizzie. She edges away from me so I will not touch her again.

    “Very well. You follow your emotions but you let logic rule them. I use logic primarily, yet sometimes my emotions get the better of me. You are kind, I am callous. You do not appear to care too deeply for things such as appearance, while I am very aware of my… qualities.”

    “We’re opposites.”

    “Quite.” The corner of my mouth twitches. “On the other hand, we are both clever, strong, and we both find the inner workings and imperfections of the human mind to be fascinating…

    “At least I don’t have to live it,” she snaps, her voice cracking. “Don’t forget, you’re the crazy person, here.”

    “You came to meet me even though it is extremely likely that I will kill you.” I tap my nails on the skull. It is cool under my fingertips. “If that is not considered mad, I believe I will need to rework my definition.”

    “I value the chance to save the lives of others, even though I’m risking my own.”

    I wave my hand dismissively. “Well, one of them is already gone, so it does not matter for him, anyway.”

    She pales. Her voice breaks, again. “Who…?”

    I wave her off. “You will figure it out, later. It is unimportant.”

    Outrage. Her eyes fill with fire. Her hands grip the table. “Not important?!

    I shrug. “Not to me, anyway. He’s just another name to add to my list.”

    “Sixteen, now, I suppose.” She frowns at her lap.

    I click my tongue and shake my head slowly. “Wrong. That makes an even forty.”

    Forty?!

    “Forty. That list they had in the newspaper is inaccurate. I ought to call the editors to rectify this error.”

    Charlie stares at me hard. Her expression burns with hatred and steadfast resolute. “That seems awfully cocky of you.”

    “That may be.” I tapped my fingers on the skull and crossed my legs. Charlie’s shoulders are rigid. She stares at me, not willing to look away, but I can see that she finds me repulsive. Terrifying.

    I check the time on my phone. “You are growing boring very fast, Charlie. Keep in mind that the longer you entertain me, the longer you and the others have to live.”

    Her eyes grow wide. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

    “You are clever,” I say. “Think of something.”

    Her hands plunge into her backpack, searching frantically through a mess of papers and books for something to inspire her. The red roller skates sit close to the top with their laces tied together.

    “Care to explain about the rollerblades?” I rest my elbow on the table and prop my chin up with my fingers.

    They clack together when she lifts them by the laces. “I’m a roller derby champ. I’m the jammer.”

    “Jammer?”

    “The more I go around the track, the more points I score.” She flicks a wheel. “Our team is doing pretty well, at the moment.”

    “Why do you like it?”

    “I like the speed and I don’t mind getting roughed up a bit. I had brothers growing up, so I was always covered in bruises.” I notice that her sentences spill out quickly, as though she is trying to make a barrier of words between herself and me. “We would wrestle and fight all the time.”

    “Brothers?” I ask. “How many?”

    “Three.” She bites her lip and shifts the conversation away from herself. “Did you have any family growing up?”

    “Not particularly. I was an only child and I had neglectful parents who allowed me to come and go as I pleased.”

    “I see.” She pauses, her eyes watching the spinning wheels on her blades as she thinks. “I’m curious… What’s your greatest accomplishment? I consider mine to be a tie between winning the derby championship last year and getting into my first choice University.”

    “This Funhouse, by far, is mine,” I tell her. “It is magnificent, is it not? I take great pride in this… work of art.”

    Although she flinches when I refer to it as “art”, she feigns an approving nod. “Yeah. It’s… nice.” Her eyes dart back down to Lizzie, who is shifting just a tiny bit. “What inspired you?”

    “As silly as it sounds, I was inspired by a song.”

    “That one you were playing…?”

    “Something similar. I can show you later. It is rather catchy.”

    “Well, inspiration comes from all places. I wanted to learn about the human mind after reading “Sherlock Holmes” when I was a kid.” She tapped her chin. “Did you set out for a life of crime?”

    “I would not go so far as to call it a lifestyle,” I say. “But I did set out for it, I suppose. I made my first kill when I was sixteen years old. His name was Alex. I seduced him, murdered him in the woods, and threw his dismembered body into the stream. His murder remains unsolved.”

    Charlie lets her horrified expression smooth into something calmer. “I see. How did you feel? What’s it like to take a life?”

    I smile a little. “Fun. Energizing. Powerful. It is easy to take the lives of those who are weaker and stupider than oneself, but it is far more fun to aim high and dream big. I highly recommend taking the life of another at least once. I am sure you would enjoy it.”

    Charlie spins the wheels on her roller-skates. “I would never do such a thing.” She looked over to Lizzie. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt someone like that.”

    I shrug. “You never know until you try. You are like me, remember? You would probably enjoy it on some level.”

    She furrows her brow and gnashes her teeth. “I’m not like you.”

    “You would be surprised.”

    Charlie has captured my interest in a way that has not been done for three long years. Clever, brave, yet naïve. Amusing to play with. She is not hard on the eyes, either, even when she is bruised and frightened.

    She is getting fidgety. Her eyes endlessly scan the room, unable to linger or focus on anything for more than a second. Her fingers twist together and untwist, twist and untwist. Her feet tap the floor over and over again.

    I heave a loud sigh to puncture the lingering silence. “Bored, again.”

    Charlie clenches her fists. “You get bored easily.”

    “I suppose.” I got to my feet and picked up the apron that was slung over the back of my chair. I put it on, tying the cord around my waist. “I better entertain myself, since you appear to be too frightened to do so.”

    “No!” she says, her eyes lingering on the blood that is splattered on my apron. “S-sit down. I’ll entertain you.”

    I raise an eyebrow and look over my shoulder at her. “Well? Go on. I’m waiting.”

    Her eyes scan the ceiling as though looking for an answer. Finding none, she closed her eyes. “… How about a game?”

    A game? Actually, that is not a bad idea. I smirk and take my seat, again.

    Her expression twists when she sees it. “I don’t like that look.”

    “You do have good ideas, sometimes, Charlie. Let us play a game.” I caress the top of the ceramic skull. “Have you played Predator?”

    “No. I don’t like the sounds of it.”

    “It is simple. A more descriptive name for it is hide-and-seek-tag.”

    She frowns. “What’s your point?”

    “Simple. We will put a twist on it.” I grin. “I will give you a five minute head start. Five minutes. No more, no less. Your job is to go and try to free all of the people I have here. My job is to try to catch you.”

    Charlie sets her jaw. “What happens if you catch me?”

    “Put it this way…” I pick up the skull and hurl it across the room with all my might. It shatters into a million pieces with an explosive crack. I look over to Charlie and hold out my empty hands. “Get the picture?”

    She nods. Her expression remains unchanged. “Got it. One question…?”

    “Yes?”

    “Do I get a hint?”

    I pace across the room. “A five minute head start and a hint? It seems you are trying to stack the deck, my friend.”

    She juts out her jaw. “No. I’m just trying to even the odds. And we’re not friends.”

    “No. No hints.” I reach into my jacket and pull out the knife. Lizzie is still unconscious at my feet. Her eyes move under her lids as she dreams, probably about me. “Just for asking, I am going to get rid of the easiest one, first. Just to keep things interesting.” I pull on a pair of blue rubber gloves. They snap on my wrists. I take my knife from the apron pocket.

    “Wait, what? NO!” Charlie jumps to her feet.

    Before she can take a single step, I kneel and dig my knife into Lizzie’s throat, slicing the jugular and carotid in one smooth stroke. I remove the knife. Crimson spills over her throat and fake blonde hair. Her eyes flutter briefly and she gurgles before her breath stops forever.

    Forty one.

    I get back to my feet. Charlie’s eyes are huge. Her mouth is agape. Her foot is frozen above the ground in mid-step.

    “Consider that incentive,” I tell her. I stoop to wipe the knife on Lizzie’s red jacket before tucking it away into my apron. “The same fate will fall for the others if you fail…”

    I pause. Charlie is shaking. She looks lost.

    “If I catch you, of course, I think I will most likely keep you around a bit as a sort of… pet.” I say the word with vigor and let it linger on my tongue for an extra moment. “We could do great things if you turn to my side, Charlie.”

    “I will never kill anyone!” she snarls. Her gaze is still fixed on Lizzie. She looks green. Oh dear, I hope she does not faint.

    I peel off my gloves and toss them aside carelessly. “You just might change your mind.”

    Charlie narrows her eyes at me and straightens. She squares up her shoulders.

    “My hint. Now.” Charlie’s voice is vibrating with anger. I can almost taste her rage boiling just under the surface, barely controlled.

    “If I must.” I wander back over to the chair and take a seat. My feet go up on the table. “Let me see… two floors… there are of them seven left… There are three on this floor, four on the bottom.”

    “That’s not a proper hint.” She crosses her arms. “Give me a hint about where to start.”

    “Alright, if you insist. You are being rather pushy.”

    She opens and closes her fists. Words seem to fail her.

    I tap my chin. Which direction should I send her in? “Just look around. You should be able to find them. Are you fond of snakes?”

    “No.”

    “Good.” I fold my hands together. “There, now. I have given you plenty. Off you trot.” I pick up my new phone and set a timer. “Five minutes, then I come to play.”

    She does not move. I am not certain she is able to.

    I put my hands over my eyes and sigh dramatically. “One… two… three…”

    Charlie dashes across the room, grabs her bat, and is off like a rocket. I hear her footsteps, fast and frantic as she tries to find her friends. Now it is just me, the shattered skull, and the shell that once was Lizzie.

    Do I feel sorry for any of them?

    Of course not.

    I do feel a bit bad about tossing that poor book around, though. I walk across the room, sidestepping blood and broken shards of ceramic skull, and pick up the yellow book. I take my seat and thumb through the pages I have already been over.

    The time ticks away slowly. There are no sounds in the building, except for the turning of my pages and the thumping footsteps as Charlie races down the halls. I can hear her calling the names of her coworkers. Of course, they are all gagged, but I do not worry. She will find one or two at least.

    Beep-beep-beep!

    Time is up. I walk back over to the wall where the grey panel is. I push a button and hook the microphone up. I turn a few knobs. I pause for a moment as I try to decide what I ought to say.

    I smirk. Obvious. After all, is this not hide-and-seek?

    I raise the microphone to my mouth. My voice booms through the Funhouse. It rumbles and rolls and echoes off of the many, many mirrors.

    Ready or not, here I come!

So much work... so little time. OTL
Hey all! I've been doing some more writing lately and I'm looking for people to beta my work!

Here are my terms and conditions:

1. I will reciprocate! If you're a writer who wants to edit my work, great! If you want me to help with yours, even better!

2. Expect long projects! Seriously, I don't do things by halves. I like pounding out lots and lots of stuff, most of it is crap, some of it is good.

3. I would like frequent communication! Bouncing ideas back and forth is fun and all, but if we're not talking all the time I'll find it hard to stay focused (like, once a week is good enough for me).

4. I would like to bounce ideas back and forth, edit each other's work on a general level and on a sentence level! Or anything else, idk.

What do you say? :D

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Geli-K
Angelica Kero
Artist | Hobbyist | Digital Art
Canada
Hey, my name is Geli. I'm a teenager. I really like to draw cartoons and write. I can pretend that I know how to play the piano. That's about it.

When I grow up, I want to be a cartoonist/ writer more then anything, but hey, things change, and anything can happen!

I'm open for collabs and trades, FYI, but no requests, sorry.
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:iconguy-monkey:
guy-monkey Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014
I see you got a donation bar. I'd be glad to donate in exchange for a pic!
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Geli-K Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I was gonna open commissions soon! Rules will be posted when I have the chance~
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guy-monkey Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014
Awesome! I'll gladly request a few commissions.
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Geli-K Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Sweet! Ty! :)
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Geli-K Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hi :D
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Geli-K Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Good. Sleepy. Thumbs are sore from gaming. :D
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giusynuno Featured By Owner May 22, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Sorry for the late message, but thank you so much for faving!!!!!!! It means a lot to me:heart:
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Geli-K Featured By Owner May 22, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey! No troubles! :D
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