#Chaos 0 AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiwipineappleparasol · 8 months ago

Text

Sonic WIPs and Scribbles from 2023 (Notes Below)

Gave Chaos the Angel Chao ... "Ears" ? So that All Forms (Neutral/Dark/Hero) have some form of Representation. (The two split ... Hair? Things? In the back already resemble the Devil Chao, since the Light Chao only has one.)

Solaris Exists! ... Crazy. I recall this redesign being bit tricky because it was just so hard to see what the fucking thing looked like Originally, but I did my best. Tried to show the Bird/Eagle Theming, and to simplify the design so People like Me could understand it. I wanted this design to look like a counterpart to Chaos -- because in this AU, Solaris is from, you'll never guess...the Sol Dimension!

Gave Team Dark a sort of... cohesive color scheme with eachother, so they really look like a Unit. Plus, Rouge wearing Red just... Makes sense, considering her name, even if I enjoy the Purple color scheme as well.

Similar color scheme thing here with the Babylon Rogues -- They all share Red/White/Yellow -- I took the darker colors out of these designs to not be so similar to Team Dark haha. The amount of points on each of their...Chest...Fluffs?? matches the amount of feathers they have on their head Respectively . Changed Storm the most -- I wanted to make his "Hair" Silhouette more Unique from Wave's, and really just wanted an excuse to give a character a Cool Jacket . The Shoes ... I phoned those in a bit, I'll probably change them Later...

Sharddddddd. Throughout my Scribbles (including some here) You might've seen me struggle to decide what Quill Style to give him -- his OG style? Or the Metal Sonic style? Eventually, I decided I didn't need to choose -- I could do both. It's not demonstrated that well in these, but it's basically the same style the Bits have in Sonic Universe: The Silver Age -- just thinner and more Pointy .

Ahhh Faceless Jumpscare! This is what they look like when I'm trying to work on Poses and Colors but don't want to Commit to a Face yet, haha . Nicole, I'm always changing her design it seems -- don't be surprised if it happens again! But I based her handheld off various devices Tails uses -- I wanted it to be compact while being more Modern than the Nokia Flip Phone. Changed her hologram form slightly to resemble her handheld -- her ears are the antenna, and the rings are on her feet like how the ring is plugged in at the bottom. Made her vest longer too! So it looks more like her Reboot Outfit . Just a little.

And that's mostly it! I've been on a quest to draw Every Character in my Sonic Au -- I've sketched about... 35 so far? Here's a Screenshot of a bit of the Madness on that canvas haha.

#sth #shard the metal sonic #blaze the cat #chaos 0 #marine the raccoon #storm the albatross #e 123 omega #solaris #nicole the holo lynx #sally acorn #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #jet the hawk #wave the swallow #amy rose #cream the rabbit #silver the hedgehog #sonic au

224 notes · View notes

snugglylime · 8 months ago

Text

JWCT Countdown Day#2: Favorite Duo/Friendship - Darius and Yaz

This is a snippet from my hybrids AU, though I've nailed down more of the details since my original post. Hope you guys enjoy!

Darius has long since lost track of the days. They’ve stopped being memorable and follow such a meandering sameness that they’re not worth keeping track of. There’s no real point in keeping a mental calendar either because there are no dates for him to look forward to.

Birthdays and holidays are off the table, and counting down the hours to weekends or anything else to be excited about has become entirely meaningless. Every day is the same, and every day he laments his lack of appreciation for the time before this horrible block of temporal sameness.

But then, as abruptly as it’d started, the sameness stops.

No one comes to check on him today. The lights around the bend down the hall continue to cast shadows into his cell, and he can still hear the persistent humming of the generators and fluorescent lights, but the sameness of the world beyond his cell is obscured by the absence of footsteps and hushed voices.

It’s entirely quiet.

So he makes a note of today. It’s a quiet, hungry, and lonely kind of day. Even if he hates the doctors with every fiber of his being- as much as he’s able to hate anyone, that is- it’s good to interact with things that aren’t just the mind-numbingly white walls of his cell.

The day continues as silently and uneventfully as it started, which is to say it adopted a new kind of sameness that’s somehow worse than the last. Just yesterday, and for the dozens of yesterdays before that, he could occupy his mind with eavesdropping or putting images to the vague sounds filtering to him from down the hall, but now there’s nothing. Nothing stirs beyond his cell. The lights don’t go out when they’re supposed to, and no one brings him dinner, which is concerning because if no one feeds him, he very well could starve to death.

Calm down, he scolds himself. You’re not some animal. It’s only been a day.

He tries to sleep, but with the bright lights and compounding hunger in his gut, it’s futile. He tosses and turns on his sorry excuse for a mattress and tries to wake from this new, hellish sameness that must be a nightmare.

Funny that he would prefer to be awake in the world where he gets poked and prodded by all manner of needles and instruments on a daily basis than the one where he’s just perpetually bored, hungry, and lonely. He really has been reduced to his basest instincts, hasn’t he?

He can almost imagine a morally corrupt psychologist sitting outside his cell, pen and clipboard in hand, taking notes on the slow deterioration of his mind. The psychologist would say that this is all just another test, just without the usual invasion of his personal space and intraveneal injections.

But no such psychologist exists, and the quiet, lonely, sameness persists long into the night (or what he assumes to be night in this windowless prison of his).

Then, just as he’s about to fall into a shallow sleep, there’s a soft click followed by a familiar whoosh of air. Within an instant, the door to his cell inches open. The lights flicker and somewhere down the hall the generators make the sound of something long-suffering.

He stares at the newly formed crack between the cell wall and the door. He’s heard that tell-tale click dozens of times, but with it has always been a doctor (or two, depending on the day and the extent of the testing he’s to be subjected to), and the set of restraints he’s grown as accustomed to as the clothes on his back.

Now there is neither, just the thin strip of light leading to the lab down the hall.

He thinks of the non-existent psychologist and how all this must be some new experiment. The isolation and hunger of the past day- or however long it’s been since he’s started keeping track of the passage of time- make it impossible for him to think straight. As he cautiously creeps out of his cell, he feels like a little kid walking into his kindergarten classroom for the first time, seeing everything with new eyes, even though he’s made this trek as many times as he’s heard the opening click of his cell door.

But even if this is some sort of test for obedience or to measure the extent to which his human brain still operates beneath the suffocating layer of prehistoric instinct and hunger they’ve injected him with, he can’t help but leap at the opportunity.

Besides, out here is where the food comes from and he’s only getting hungrier. The more logical (and generally quieter) side of his brain scolds him for acting like an animal, but he can’t bring himself to care too much. All he cares about is finding food.

But when the corridor spits him out, he doesn’t find food. Instead, he finds the lab, eerily devoid of its occupants, both animate and not. The doctors- as well as their personal effects- are all gone save for a few backpacks and pencils strewn across the floor. The embryonic chambers, usually clouded with cold fog, are clear and devoid of the canisters of their prenatal residents. All the desks have been emptied and the endless rows of filing cabinets have been gutted, some of their contents lying amongst the backpacks and pencils and whatever else managed to find its way to the floor.

The lights flicker again. The generators belch and wheeze.

If not for the gnawing hunger in his gut, he might’ve been skeeved out by the situation. But as things stand, he only feels mildly disturbed by the prospect of standing in the middle of a scene ripped straight out of a horror movie.

Not that his whole life these past few months hasn’t been a horror movie. At least this is kind of exciting.

He decides to follow the left hall. He’s never been down here before, always having been ushered to the right where all the medical offices and examination tables are. But he knows those places like the back of his hand by now, and so he knows that there’s no food there. Which must mean that the food somehow comes from the left hall.

Maybe.

Like most of his memories from his time on the island before his abduction, his memories of the tour of this place he went on so many months ago are little more than a fuzzy blotch in the back of his mind, doing nothing to guide him where he needs to go.

It doesn’t help that all the walls and offices here look identical, right down to the creaky ceiling fans and plywood desks. No expenses were spared except for when it came to the busy-bodies running this place.

By the looks of things, they were about as well off as he was in his cell.

He rounds a corner and is suddenly accosted by a cacophony of clicks and bangs, like something heavy is hitting one of the white brick walls. He hesitates between the choice of going right and investigating, or going left towards a neon green exit sign.

After a moment, he starts down the right hall. He’s still hungry, but he’s also lonely, and chances are that whatever’s making that thumping noise is more alive than anything else here. Maybe the clicking is a doctor typing at a keyboard, though how anyone could continue to work in conditions as chaotic as these he has no idea.

Then again, he has no idea what caused these conditions in the first place. For all he knows, this whole situation could just be another experiment that he’s being subjected to.

Will he ever stop feeling like a lab rat?

He follows the noises down a corridor not unlike the one leading to his cell. The tall, undecorated walls funnel him around a bend until he’s face to face with thick metal bars, just like the ones he’s stared at every day for as long as he can clearly remember.

He freezes. There’s no way he managed to make one big loop- he may not know much about this place, but he knows for a fact that the building isn’t one big circle. And even if it was, this hall is all wrong, like a mirror image of the one containing his cell.

This is someplace different.

He cautiously approaches the bars, realizing with dawning horror that the noises, having seemed so distant before, are coming from the darkness right in front of him. Then they stop so suddenly he thinks he might’ve imagined them. But now he’s standing just a few feet from the bars and can get a good look at what’s behind them, noisy creature or not. At least, he would have if not for the hand being flung into his face.

He screams and stumbles backward. The unnatural weight of his feet and the awkward bend to his legs set him off balance enough to send him tumbling shoulder-first into the wall. He grunts and licks the two, sharp teeth protruding from the gums where his canines used to be.

He’s still not entirely used to the feeling of them in his mouth, but he knows they’ll be useful in a fight if it comes down to it.

“Darius?” A voice hisses. He recognizes it instantly, even though the memories it’s attached to are fuzzy.

“Yaz?” Darius breathes. He hasn’t heard her voice in… well, however long it’s been since the abduction. Months at the very least, if not longer.

“It’s me,” Yaz sighs. Then, as if to prove her point, she steps into the thin triangle of light cast through the bars of her cell.

From the waist up, she looks exactly how he remembers. But as he looks closer, he realizes that’s not entirely true. Her skin has a pale, blueish quality to it and her eyes, stark against the abnormal pallor of her skin, are striking and unnaturally bright, like she’s seeing right through him. And below her waist, more shocking than anything else about her, are the leathery, awkwardly bent legs of a velociraptor.

Darius stares, transfixed at the homunculi standing before him. She looks like the product of a poor attempt at photoshopping a dinosaur’s legs onto a human’s body; her waist is too thin to properly accommodate the girth of the reptilian legs, and the dark, scaly flesh of them disappears beneath her shorts only to reappear as the perfectly smooth human skin of her barely exposed stomach.

“What is it?” Yaz demands, startling Darius out of his thoughts. Despite the roughness of her voice- has it always sounded like that?- her lips are turned into a nervous frown like she’s embarrassed.

“You…” he trails off, unable to find the words. He stiffens as a tail suddenly appears out of the darkness and swishes back and forth behind her body like the pendulum of an upside-down metronome. “Wow.”

“You don’t look much better,” she says with a strained grimace.

“Oh, right,” his cheeks flush. He’d nearly forgotten about the state of his own body, not that he’d ever gotten a real good look at it. He’s been denied the privilege of a mirror, and while he can feel all the strange anomalies in his stature and movement, he doesn’t have a good idea of what it all looks like. Then he shakes his head and realizes who he’s talking to. “Not that you look bad or anything. I think the… ah… tail suits you. Yeah.”

Yaz blinks at him before turning away with a muffled snort. “Shut up. Yours suits you more, dino-nerd.”

Oh. Right. He’d almost forgotten about the heavy appendage sprouting from his tailbone. Not that he’d like to remember it. How he got to be this way is a process he’d prefer to forget, but it looks like he’s not the only one to have experienced it.

Which means that in all likelihood, he and Yaz aren’t alone. The others must be around here somewhere, too.

“Sure does,” Darius grins, suddenly feeling more excited than he has in months. He grabs the handle of her cell door and cocks his head. “Ready to get out of here?”

#darius is a t-rex hybrid and yaz is a velociraptor hybrid #their friendship means so much to me ahhhhh #guys i might actually combust waiting for chaos theory 0-0 #jwcc #jwctcountdown #darius bowman #yasmina fadoula #jurassic world camp cretaceous #hybrids au

20 notes · View notes