The Monster Of Sentan Is An Excellent Story To Be Compared To! In My Mind This Was A Continuation Of

I love the expression transition and the cute little bounce, and the secondary animation on the ascot is just *chef's kiss*

Absolutely lovely work

Paper test animation I did yesterday!

It's 25 frames, 12 fps, with a few of the frames on twos, and drawn on sticky notes!!!

This is one of my ocs/personas :D

This is also my first time animating/doing frame by frame on paper! I animated this using a mix of pose to pose and straight ahead animation, mainly straight ahead :3 I am entirely self taught when it comes to animation, and if possible I would like some critique on this! However disclaimer that I am aware that my model changes a bit XD I did this within an hour because I was crunching for time between my free block and my first class in the morning. X3

Anyways, hope you folks like it, have a nice day!

Ps: if anyone who knows my characters has any more requests for animations of them, hmu! I actually really enjoyed this and I want to do more when I'm free!!!

"You're a bad influence," you said with a fond smile.

"I aim to be," they agreed, matching your smile.

They reached for your hand, but you pulled back.

"I have to go," you said.

"Afraid to stay?" they challenged with a knowing glint.

"You shot me! In the foot!" The god whined, curled up on the floor.

"Well, yeah," you said. "You were about to destroy the whole city."

"My foot! Do you know how long that takes to heal?! I'm going to have a limp!"

"You also killed people. I really can't feel too sorry for you."

"Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?!"

"I know exactly who I'm dealing with." You crossed the room and knelt in front of him. "Do you?"

The God raised his head to glare at you. "Some pathetic human who got lucky," he said at last.

You smiled and raised the gun to his head. "No, I was sent here," you said. "But try again."

"A couple of puny humans--"

"You're too old for this foolishness."

The God quieted, at that. His eyes went wide as something registered. He shrank a little in terror.

"You were summoned by the Gods, weren't you?" he whispered.

You stared down at him with a mixture of pity and disgust. "The Gods will give you a lighter sentence if you come with me quietly."

It was then the room shifted, or tried. You could feel him pull at the fabric of reality, but you wouldn't let it budge.

"You tried that already," you said. You placed a hand on his shoulder. "No more running."

He tried to grapple you, but his power was never in brute force.

"You chose this," you said.

You gripped his head. He shrieked, wide-eyed and terrified, clawing at you desperately. His hands shrank, now short and stubby. His shoes flopped to the ground, feet too small to hold them. The bullet wound became but a tiny birth mark. His head shrunk, his eyes more soft and wide. Soon enough, he was nothing more than a harmless human baby.

You cradled him in his shirt. He screamed and cried and babbled.

"You will live among the humans, stripped of your memories, stripped of your godhood," you said gently. "For as many lives as you have taken, you will be reborn. That is your punishment."

The baby fussed and spit up a little.

"...Lovely. Now, let's go introduce you to your parents."

You've been sent out to defeat a powerful, reality bending god. All have died horrifically trying. And here you are in front of the crying god as they complain about how you just shot them.

Potential

"It's so much faster," they said. "It cuts out the grunt work."

"That's not the point," you seethed. "That was never the point. You're exploiting others for your own convenience."

"I'm just ahead of the curve."

"No, you're avoiding the messiness of self expression. You can't be bothered to live."

"I'm so sick of your personal attacks," they snap. "Everyone does this. EVERYONE. You're just living in the past."

"No, I want to live in the future. I want life to be worth living in the future. Where does the need for growth and efficiency stop?"

"So you want to live without modern conveniences?"

"No. No. I just want the growth and efficiency to translate to rest, play, and creativity. It isn't. We've lost so, so much. And for what? An endless stream of banality drowning out the passion that made it possible?"

"You're not being realistic. That's not the world we live in."

"I have to be unrealistic. I can't forget the potential of the world. I know what the world could be and I'm so tired of settling for less."

The Hero dodged. Too slow, the Dark Lord swung down his battle ax and cleaved a rock in half. The Hero went for his opening, but the Dark Lord parried. The Hero jumped over another swing, then feinted an attack. The Dark Lord anticipated the feint and swung at the Hero's sword's mid-arc, sending it flying. The Hero stumbled back from the blow, then rolled when the ax came down where he fell.

The Hero retrieved his fallen sword and smiled cockily. "I can do this all day."

The Dark Lord froze at that. The Hero launched into another attack. Dark Lord halfheartedly blocked his blow. Another attack. Block. It felt slow and deliberate, like a training exercise.

"What's wrong? Getting tired?" The Hero snarked.

The Dark Lord planted his ax in the ground. The Hero sensed something was different and stepped back. The two foes apprehensively waited for the other to make a move.

That's when the Dark Lord removed his helmet.

"I am," he said simply. He tossed his helmet to the side. "I am getting tired."

"You think it can just end? Like that?!" The Hero shouted. "After everything you did?!"

The Dark Lord's glowing eyes bore into his.

He picked up one of the skulls littering the ground around them, and tossed it to the Hero's feet.

"Whose bodies litter these battle grounds?" The Dark Lord growled. "Did you ever wonder?"

The Hero stared down at the skull.

"Ours," the Hero said lightly. He kicked the skull back. "A millennia of reincarnations made to come here and die over and over."

The Dark Lord stepped on the skull. It cracked, then crumbled into dust. "You're ready to do this for another millennia?"

The Hero faltered then. "As long as it takes," he whispered.

"As long as it takes for what?" The Dark Lord said.

"I... I just want to rest," the Hero admitted. "But time and time again, you razed my village and destroyed everything I love. You've taken everything, and now you get to call it quits and say you're tired? I've been tired this whole time."

"Your village turned away my people when we had nothing," the Dark Lord said. "We took what we needed by force."

"Don't you dare try to come off as the victim--" the Hero started in, but the Dark Lord interjected.

"We were desperate, and turned to forces we never should have trifled with. In turn, so have yours. Neither us have known love and peace since this started."

"Quit trying to act like we're the same," the Hero snarled, but there was a broken edge.

"We need to end the cycle," The Dark Lord said, and started towards him.

The Hero narrowed his eyes and raised his sword. The Dark Lord, undeterred, loomed above him. The Hero shook.

"Run me through, Hero," the Dark Lord said. "Slake your bloodlust. I will come back as many times as it takes."

The Hero held out his sword. The Dark Lord bared his throat and closed his eyes. A bead of blood dripped from where the blade grazed his throat.

The sword clattered to the ground.

The Dark Lord tilted his head.

"I don't want this," the Hero said.

The Dark Lord held out his hand. "It's time to rebuild, then."

The Hero took it. "I'll hold you to that."

You and the Dark Lord are destined to be reincarnated to fight fight one another throughout time. After 1000 years of fighting, the two of you decide to sit down and actually discuss an end to this conflict.

2024 Art Wrap

This was a big animation year for me. It’s really nice to do these art wraps to remind myself all the work I’ve accomplished.

See how I make room guardians on my Patreon!

"That smell. What is that?"

"I'm not sure."

"I've smelled it before. It's so familiar."

"You're imagining things."

"No, no, it's this tea. You made me this tea before."

"...You should go."

"It's dark. It's time to set up camp," the swordsman said.

"We lost all our gear, though. Nowhere to sleep unless we conjure something up."

The party pointedly turns to the wizard.

"...No," the wizard says. "I'm not using magic."

The party shouted in indignation. "WHY?! Come on, we're tired! Why can't you do it?!"

The wizard groaned. "Listen, I'll get us some light."

"You always use light spells! Why can't you ever conjure something useful?!"

"Because it's-- it's very hard to quality control magic!" the wizard sputtered. "Do you want tent spikes sticking out of your leg-- or, or HOLES in your tent?!"

"It's better than sleeping in the open air--," the swordsman tried.

"And then!" the wizard continued, "And then, you have to keep such an item conjured! Did we buy an emerald in the last town? Maybe a ruby? NO, I'm working off a crummy hunk of quartz! A polished quarts, maybe? REFINED QUARTZ?! NOOOOO. I have a small, dirt-stained, misshapen LUMP!"

"Why does that--"

"BECAUSE THE ROCK CONDUCTS THE MAGIC THAT KEEPS IT PERSISTING!!!" the wizard shrieked in dismay. "You need quality gemstone that can HANDLE that consistent power need! You know what happens when a gem overdraws magic energy over an extended period of time?"

"...No?..."

"You get a fire hazard! You risk breaking your gem! And if the gem gets broken, where does the magic fall?"

"I don't--"

"The WIZARD!!"

A timid scholar spoke up, "... Can't you transmogrify something?..."

"Can't I-- can't-- " the wizard laughed and gripped his head. "I'm working WITH A LUMP OF QUARTZ!!!"

"I heard of a wizard who could--"

"And Lord Agument is the best in our field! Do you think I'm the best?! With the way you pay me?!"

"But your fire spells--"

"Yes!!! Yes, because that's what I've studied!!! I am good at the section of magic I studied!!! Pardon me for wanting hobbies outside of work!!! Not EVERYONE can be Lord Agument, who mastered all forms of magic on a crummy little quartz."

"Listen-- just-- can you start the light spell," the swordsman wearily sighed.

"YES. I CAN."

Wizards have as much faith in magic as software designers have in software - none at all. A wizard is explaining to the rest of the party why they won't use magic to solve all their problems.

"Hey, you're a hero, right?"

"Well, I mean--"

"I need someone strong to come clean out my garage."

"But I don't--"

"I'll pay you $5."

"..."

"I'll throw in a sandwich if you unclog my toilet."

"... ..."

Too Many Beds

(Reverse Trope: Too many beds, as seen on @out-of-jams )

Context: Hero and Villain forced to work together and need a place to stay for the night

Hero had been sent back to the car to gather their things while Villain booked them rooms for the night. Refusing to use a readily available luggage cart, Hero pridefully piled several bags across their body. They held two in each hand, two more were strapped crossbody–one resting on each hip for balance–making them so wide they would have had to step through the lobby door sideways. That is, if they could open the door in the first place, considering their hands were full and this hotel was sketchy enough to be skirting the ADA.

When Villain came back outside with only one room key, Hero could only hope that there would be two beds awaiting them behind shoddy wooden door.

Image their surprise when they unlocked the door to find not one, not two, but three beds clad in all-white linens.

Villain, ignoring the gobsmacked hero, pushed all the way into the room and made a bee-line for the bathroom. In a rather fittingly-villainous move, Villain had refused to relieve Hero of any of their cumbersome stuff during the trek up to their second-story room. The hero finally gathered themselves and their bags enough to step into the room, throwing villain’s bags on the far bed, placing their own bags on the bed closest to the wall, and sitting themselves on the bed in the middle. Immediately feeling their aching joints relax, hero fell back into the plush dramatically. They contemplated the merits of stealing some of the extra pillows to transfer to their bed before a light bulb lit up over their head. After a moment’s consideration, they stood up and started pushing the center mattress towards the one on the wall.

Mega Bed. First come, first serve.

“Hey! I got that one for me,” yelled an incredulous voice behind them. Apparently, Villain was back from the bathroom, and they were very very jealous of Mega Bed.

“You don’t need two beds!”

“Neither do you!”

“Sure I do!”

To punctuation their point, hero belly-flopped dramatically onto their claimed, enlarged sleeping arrangement.

“If you wanted more room to sleep, then you should have booked a room yourself!”

“What kind of motel has rooms with three beds anyway?!” Hero’s question was muffled by the comforter as they held their ground starfished face down over the blankets.

“This one does,” stated the villain from what sounded suspiciously far from his allocated regular-sized bed on the other side of the room.

“Obvishushlee,” the hero mumbled in reply.

“…”

The hero recognized this as a dangerous silence. The silence of plotting.

“Look, we can be adults about this-“ Hero was cut off with a yelp as they were dragged by the ankle out of Mega Bed and onto the questionably-clean carpeted motel floor. Villain attempted to step over them, presumably to claim Mega Bed for themselves, but Hero caught onto their ankle in a grand feat of revenge, thus preventing Villain from crawling into the rumpled sheets.

Hero would not give up Mega Bed without a fight.

As Hero and Villain tumbled on the ground, knocking over the lamp and accidentally turning the TV to the Spanish channel in the process, a stroke of genius hit. Hero grabbed Villain by the back of the shirt, stalling their scramble for the bedpost, playground-king-of-the-hill style.

“Stop! Stop-,” Hero shouted, then added placatingly, “I have an idea.”

And thus the Super Mega Bed was born.