I know this time of year is really hard for everybody.. and I would never, ever ask for money unless it was incredibly important. I’m not entirely willing to go into full detail, but do know this. I would never ask somebody to send me money, without putting as much effort as I could into earning what I get. Because of that, I am offering a few things, as I ask for help. This is incredibly humbling for me, and it took me a lot of thought, and a lot of swallowing my own pride in order to do this.. even if you just consider it, it would mean the world to me.
So what I am offering, are a few things: Promos, moodboards (which will range from 6 to 8 frames depending on what you give me to work with), and icons. Examples are as follow, with prices:
Its fairly self explanatory.
Moodboards are something that I will need more information on, ideas on the character unless I have a good hold on the character desired. These I will charge $15
Icons I am going to make 20 of in a bundle for the $15 advertised for a simple edit of them. Should you want a special design (as shown above), you will get 20, for $20.
Promos… again, fairly self explanatory. $25 for these!
I AM OFFERING A BUNDLE AS WELL.
Everything that you see above, I am going to offer for $50, regardless if you get a designed icon or not.
Please. I truly hope that you at least consider what I’m offering. I know what I can do isn’t much.. but I promise you I will work my ass of to ensure that you get good, quality work for whatever you might give to me.
PM me for information as far as payment goes, please ❤
I mean, of course it was cold. It was Michigan in December. Inside the black town car was nice and toasty warm, as Harrison Drake sat sipping a vodka tonic in the back seat.
He’d fidgeted with his glass all the way across town, unable to shake a case of nerves. Here he was a married man, going on a date with someone who was not his husband. Of course he’d cleared everything with Wayne, who hadn’t minded in the slightest as long as Harrison came home to him and Devin at the end of the night. He’d even made clear that Syx was welcome to come back to the penthouse with him. But still, the blue man was nervous.
As soon as the car pulled up in front of the abandoned-looking warehouse, he sent a text to the man inside.
[TXT MSG: I’m here]
And then Harrison stepped out of the car. Yes, it was cold, but this outfit looked best when he was standing. And he wanted Syx to get a good, long look.
The mesh of the collared shirt peeked out with nothing underneath it, showing a sinful amount of blue skin. What kept him from being totally lewd was the stunning metallic ombre jacket, tailored to perfectly fit Harrison’s slim body. Plain black skinny pants allowed the coat to shine, and a pair of whimsical boots peeked from under the hem of his pants leg adding a pop of color. The final touch was the eye makeup. He so rarely wore it in his business life, but now with a chance to shine he’d taken full advantage of crisp pointed eyeliner and dazzling glitter shadow.
He felt every inch like a peacock, and couldn’t hide his excitement to show his bright colors for this man who was making his stomach flitter with butterflies.
Syx had spent hours upon hours agonizing over his wardrobe with Minion and Anna’s help. This had involved many fashion shows and the final pick for pants ended up being decided by Anna when his loving wolfish mate dragged him back to the bedroom.
Syx felt horribly exposed as he got dressed again, dark mesh tights and corset covered by his studded leather pants, the gifted shirt, and finally his motorcycle jacket. He’d gone with a dark, smokey eyeshadow to bring out his eyes, and finally slipped on his heeled, platform boots to give himself a few extra inches.
Gloveless… his arms would be utterly bare when the jacket came off… he wanted the skin contact… but that meant more people than Harrison could see. That had been as big of an internal struggle as the lack of spikes. In the end, he strode out the door of the lair after getting the test with encouragement from both Anna and Minion. His Tiger had made sure he knew who he belonged to before sending him out to enjoy his date, so he had ended up smelling as much of her as he did of his choice of cologne.
Seeing Harrison waiting for him, his jaw dropped. Closing the distance between them, Syx traced the line of fabric of the mesh shirt to where it disappeared into the jacket, purposefully not touching skin. He licked his lips, enjoying the bit of height over the other blue man that his boots gave him as he purred, “You are a horrible tease. I’m supposed to resist just stealing you away right now? With you dressed like that?”
[After spending so much time around Tank and his god-awful fashion sense anyone, even someone like Wendalyn, would be driven to seeking the comfort of matching clothing. She doesn’t have the urge to fall into the rich tastes she was raised on, nor does she have the need for such things. All she is really looking for on this shopping trip is an outfit or two that is durable, functional, and not eye-searing.]
[The first store she tries is a complete bust. The clothes are nice and all, but unless you are dainty and skinny, you aren’t fitting. She is neither of those things. Stepping out, Wendalyn glances about, debating on where to try next.]
“-YOUR PRICES ARE CRIMINAL ANYWAY!” Syx shouted angrily at the distraught manager of the Hot Topic that he’d just been thrown out of. He really should have known better, but he’d been filled with nostalgia about everything that he’d never been able to do as a teen. The idea of simply being able to go and explore the mall, boldly and utterly blue, had been too tempting to pass up. Especially with all Harrison had done to tempt him out of his shell and into normal public life.
It turns out, however, that the mall didn’t live up to his quality standards, size requirements, or the daydreams of his teenage self. Maybe trying to recapture those wishes in his 30s was just unrealistic. Still, he felt utterly justified for calling them out on their horrific use of fake leather and cheaply coated metal. There was no way those prices weren’t a rip-off. Not that he was very aware what normal prices should be…
Didn’t matter. Syx stuffed his hands into the pockets of his spike covered leather jacket and turned towards the food court. Maybe that would fair better. He’d only just turned when he looked up and stopped in his tracks. That… that had to be a Glaupunk… she had to be with those shoulders… there was just something… off about the other aliens that seemed so obvious to Syx. The humans seemed so painfully oblivious but to him, the others stood out nearly as much as he did. Just… off. Not human.
He licked his lips nervously, unsure if he should approach or not… he hadn’t done anything wrong… it should be fine… right?
I just heard a girl outside yell “PARKOUR” really loudly immediately followed by a dull thud on the ground and a softer “ugh” and I’m laughing really hard
RP backup 
