Osaisen, commision'd Arts and Stories.

[Chibi-Reaper]

So, some of you might be aware that I've been reaching slightly dire financial straits for a while, and that efforts to become economically sound are not going well.

The short of it is, $500 has me set for the month's rent and all. More than this, and I can also eat food, which is a plus, among other incidental things. But rent comes due on the first, and I am pretty much broke.

So, I'm open to donations. If I can receive ten dollars from fifty people? That would be great, and I would be set for another month of fruitlessly looking for employment. Twenty from the same number would be fantastic, and I'll probably buy myself a cake or something on my birthday to celebrate.

So, to make this more palatable than just holding out a hat and looking pitiful, and to make sure that you get something out of it too, I'll be offering compensation for the donations.

Cue dichromatic_Butterfly.png.

On a more serious note, I am willing to receive direct requests for writing, with some restrictions.

First. My ass will remain covered at all times. Not fanfiction, but original fiction, so that I don't get any cease and desist letters or people looking to sue given that this would be something resembling a money-making venture. So, 'Cross Ranma with X-Com' is an example of something that is NO GOOD, where 'Generic fantasy, hero must defeat the princess to rescue the dragon' would be fine.

Second: specifics. More of them means that you will be getting much closer to what you want, most likely. However, my muse is a fickle beast, and so less may make it easier for me to write and speed production.

Third: Priority. Obviously, if I end up getting more money from you, then I'm more motivated to make you happy. Cue prostitution jokes. Simply put, if I get any money from you at all then you're on a list, but don't be surprised if Uncle Scrooge who has learned The Meaning Of Christmas bumps people back a bit with his mighty sacks of dollars.

Now for some disclaimers. You may end up getting dramatic cliff-hangers to finish your short stories. I will be hesitant to commit to anything really prolonged, such as running a quest or multiple choice adventure with original premises, or researching systems to write and DM your role-playing campaign or what-have-you. Again, doing anything that might get me thoughtful looks from officers of the law is going to get shot down.

With that said, even if you have no requests, I welcome your money.

Donations can be made to paypal, at chibi_reaper@hotmail.com

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

The hakurei special service doujinshi somehow seems appropiate...

 

[HighMongrel]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Hmm, your stories have entertained me over the years, I could probably pay something forward. What country do you live in?

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

US of A.

Specifically texas, which only feels like a different country with its hellacious summer heat sometimes.

 

[enthalpy]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Just going to leave this here...

 

[nick012000]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

If I had any money, you'd have the ten dollars you're asking for. Unfortunately, I'm still just a student who lives with his parents.

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

One can only hope that there are donations for the poor miko...

 

[Selias]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

If I had any money, you'd have the ten dollars you're asking for. Unfortunately, I'm still just a student who lives with his parents.

Click to shrink...

Same here.

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Update:

I am now sufficiently funded to pay my way through July, plus some food money. Much gratitude for everyone. Really, thank you.

That said, I will still be more than willing to accept any further donations or special requests.

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.



That is excellent news~

 

[Megaolix]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Now let's hope Chibi manage to land a job so we don't have to repeat this next month.

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Indeed. One hopes so too... @_@

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

"Come now, good fellows and winsome lasses, and I shall sing for thee the lay of lord Smythe."

Instantly, and from the raised pedestal, a booing sounds.

"Play Freebird instead!" an out of place man, eyes covered with sunglasses.

"Milord, I must again insist I know not this song of the freed bird of which you speak." The minstrel insists, half worried and half reprovingly. "The lay be in your very honor, m'lord William Smythe."

"Keep telling you, it's Billy Smith."

"Ahem."

The bard coughs, and begins to play a simple tune on his lute, colorful sleeves catching the eye, and tiny bells chiming with every movement of his arms.

"Twas a night most drear-
And thundering storm-"

"Always, it was a dark and stormy night. That's just taking too much artistic license. It was actually in the middle of the afternoon, and pretty sunny."

"Please, milord." The bard insists, pained look on his face.

"Right, right, go on."

"..."

The bard takes a deep breath and begins anew.

"Twas a night most drear, and thundering storm-
Didst strike cold fear, into hearts warm.
For hiding about, both near and afar-
Were the terrible raiders, of war-chief Lazar..."

"Lazarus."

"Lazarus does not rhyme, milord." The bard complains at the unwanted interjection.

"Yeah, I don't care. All these songs have gotten it to the point where even the histories are wrong, and I mean come on, an orc boss named Lazarus, that's just being blatant in your foreshadowing."

A stern glare of reproof forces the great hero William into a shrug, and reaching for one of the little meat pies set out. The bard continues.

"In meadow soft, in village humble-
As happens oft, did wizard bumble."

".... Yeah, don't let him hear you say that or you'll be a toad like that." Billy muttered.

"While thundr's report showed raiders near-
Not monster summon'd, but man of no peer-
He came, William Smythe, the Man Without Fear."

Billy coughs, and looks awkward.

"You've got to understand, I was play-testing a new game at the time...." he mutters.

"As raiders crashed through in the dark, stormy night,
He took up a plank, and against them did fight.
With no care for his safety, against them he stood-
Armed not with sword, but mere length of wood.
And at him they came, with frenzied blood lust,
And at him they came with sword slash and spear thrust,
And at him they charged, as though demons from hell,
And cattle he spooked, and stampeded well,
And rear did their horses, and riders they fell,
And trampled they were, before man called by spell.
And laird of the village, who had feared for his life,
Cried tears of pure joy to be saved from this strife,
Offered to hero any boon, and claimed William Smythe:
No land and no gold, but the favor of his wife."

"...... You've got to understand, I still thought I was play-testing a new game at the time..." Billy mutters, abashed.

"In terrible darkness did war-chief Lazar-"

"Orsinnus is mostly desert. White sand. The whole place lights up bright under even a little moonlight, and the average day is too bright for you to see at all unless you have rocking shades like mine, or wrap cloth around your head. You'd go blind trying to look around unprotected for too long."

"..... Did hear of his raiders, fallen so far,
And vengeance he sword, that he'd take the life,
of the mighty hero, of William Smythe.

But away and off, in nearer lands,
Lord William Smythe crossed paths with brigands.
Had left village humble, when laird red of face,
Could no longer take a fortnight of disgrace,
Of his wife and the hero, in matters unchaste.
Demanded he satisfaction, Smythe made it a race.
To the grand mountain a week hence, and then back to the town,
The winner to claim the laird's wife for his own.
The finest of horses were the laird's to choose,
With ornery mule, Smythe's fate to lose,
Knew this did Smythe, and after race started,
Remained he three more nights with laird's wife, then departed."

".... unofficially, like, I'm pretty sure my head is worth a lot in that village, as long as the rest of me isn't still attached to it."

"The brigands did halt hero Smythe when they found,
Demanded his coin, or his blood on the ground.
Said Smythe in turn, his wrath need not be felt,
His coin did he carry inside of his belt,
And theirs it would be, so long as, he asked,
Twas retrieved by his choice, brigand bands only lass.
A hand grasp'd within, twas not coin that was found,
And smythe did suggest it might have slipped further down."

"They always have to sing about that bit." Billy groans. "Always."

"Too late realized, there was no coin to be found,
And hostage had Smythe, for bandits around.
Yet further he spoke, the hero would not run,
For he did yet know twas greater trap to be sprung.
From forested cover, into bandit irate,
sank feather'd shaft, arrow of raider make,
And in the surprise came another and mate.
And battle was met, against raiders on horse,
by the great hero Smythe, and the bandits of course,
And loot left to them, if only in turn,
They would come with Smythe to bolster the armies in force."

"I took an arrow in that fight. In the shoulder, not the knee. Movies make you think that's just a flesh wound, not really, whole arm was fucked for a while after." Billy reminisces. "... That's about when I realized I wasn't actually playing a game, what with actually hurting and bleeding."

"Chief Lazar, he came, at his armies head,
Seeking no more than that Smythe be made dead.
The kingdom he promised, safe from all harm,
From the greatest of cities to the least little farm.
Every road every tavern, every field tree and glade,
If Smythe was but delivered, so Chief Lazar bade.
But we would not betray the lands finest hero,
At least, once the vizier fell from tower window.
For a brief time did tempers against Smythe run hot,
'til evidence revealed, treacherous vizier's plot.
Including a message, of good king overthrown,
But foiled it was, for lord Smythe had known."

"Look, the guy had a goatee." Billy points out, arms crossed. "In a world of thick, scruffy beards and carefully shaved faces by servants, this one guy took the time to sculpt his facial topiary into a deliberate indication of evil. I mean, if that had been it I'd have thought twice, but he wasn't even trying to hide it. Tell him a joke, he laughs in a high pitched evil cackle. If he's interested in something, his eyes gleam with avarice as he rubs his fingers menacingly together. For fuck's sake, on the way to a meeting with a tax man he kicked three puppies and stole a kid's stuffed animal just because he could, and pitched it down a well later. Dude was just not subtle. He was obviously doing something that I wasn't going to want any part of later on."

"Armies did crash, and battle afar,
warriors fell, and so too Lazar,
did fall in assault, and on his death knell,
did demons lay claim and drag his spirit to hell."

"No, he just died. Sort of gurgled. Messed himself. They don't tell you about that in the movies either. I guess it's not good for singing about, too."

"Memorial constructed, and placed inside,
the body of Lazar, his corpse to hide,
Concealed within stone floors and a building of same,
T'was one year it was, to the day when they came.
Lazar's canny wisemen, taking heed of the plight,
of the crumbling raiders in absence of his might,
Came they did to the grave, came they from the waste,
and overlooked what might not have been missed in less haste,
As corpse of Lazar heaved rattling breath, and sat up at the waist,
And pins were pulled loose, and traps that were laid
Of alchemical power, and powder for trade,
From the wise men and wizard, set just for such attempt,
And blast heard as far east as the village of Kempt,
And far west as the wide-sprawling trackless plains,
And of those foul mages and corpse? Naught remains."

"Yeah. Called that one. I mean, come on, 'Lazarus'? Really? Obvious plot hook is obvious, and I'm just supposed to leave that be and let it happen? Nah."

Billy took a sip of thick beer from a stein, grimacing, having never quite gotten used to the typical rustic flavor, and ignored the bard droning on a few more verses about how he had tried to talk down the next warchief and what had turned out to not be an unloved and soon to be cruelly used and abandoned infatuated tag-along, but a loving and monogamous wife of thirteen years. Can't call them all in advance, he supposed.

Still, he'd done pretty well, he would say, for someone who was all show and had never actually learned to use any sort of weapon in his life. Just make enough preparations in advance, after predicting obvious turns of events, and the legend would just sort of... grow around him. As long as he was never forced to actually fight someone who knew what they were doing, or anything, he was on the gravy train for life.

"Milord!" A courier called. "Milord, we have need of a hero... the princess Rosemary, from the summer palace to the east, she... she has been abducted by a Dragon. No average warrior or knight has hope to save her, but you-!"

Just like that, and in a flash, Billy Smith was up and out of his seat, stuffing his purses with nearby valuables and food products, and making a mad dash for the gates.

"Milord! Milord, thou art drunk and reveled to confusion, milord Smythe, east, the summer palace is to the east, thou art going west!"

"A hero we called for, a hero's creed
and gained we a hero of kingdom's need,
A hero fearless, with no care for his life,
Long may he live, good sir William Smythe."

Fin~

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

One hopes you're doing better this month, Chibi.

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Gonna admit, still shy of having full budget.

But, hey, I guess I can put 'basic ditch-digging and septic drainage pipe experience' or something similar on my resume. I guess. For what that's worth. If it weren't for experiences I would rather forget having, not so bad.

Still, I'm going to advertise creative talents once more in exchange for donations.

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

Righto. My head is on straight, I have recovered from exhausting and demanding physical labors, and the first is next week, when rent comes due.

At this point, I'm in financial straits that are not so dire as they could be, but unfortunately I still haven't been able to find paying work, not going into the details, and looking at my funding situation leaves me at a bit of a quandary.

I am approximately $110 away from meeting required funds for the month. More than this, of course, and I don't really have food worries, but that's at a bare minimum.

Anyway.

I'll restate that I'm available to compensate your donations. Not that way. No, really not. But instead, I will write for you, as you can see demonstrated previously!

Going back over the limitations, not anything that is going to get me in trouble. Original, people, original work. Or at least far enough removed that I can believably slap a satire or parody tag on, and have it be protected free speech, or just pretend that there is no relation at all. But preferably original.

What some of you might not be aware of is that I do not limit myself just to writing in this! I am also more than capable of putting pencil to paper, or fiddling with the Paint program that comes with this computer. Admittedly, quality cannot reasonably be expected to be in the highest grade, since I am far out of practice, but if you want yourself a fantastic MSpaint doodle of something, or for me to draw a physical scribble of what-have you, and from there go through a mess to upload a grainy and poor quality photograph of it to the internets for you, then by all means, request away. ... Don't get the expectations too high!

All previous disclaimers and restrictions still apply, and of course, even if you decide that there's nothing you really want in return I'll happily give you that warm and fuzzy feeling inside that only comes from the philanthropic and heady rush of helping your fellow human being in need, or the early stages of an unpleasant and rare disease making itself known. One of those.

As before, donations can be made to paypal at chibi_reaper@hotmail.com

 

[Vindictus]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

That Kindle Worlds thing still not have any series you recognise on it?

 

[FurikoMaru]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

I realized not a moment after I hit send that I paid you in Canadian dollars. -_-; I feel like a tool.

 

[Vindictus]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Are canadian dollars still worth roughly $1.18 US, or have the exchange rates leveled out since my visit?

 

[FurikoMaru]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Canadian dollar = currently 97 cents American. Though I was actually thinking more about Paypal's unwillingness to lump money together unless it's of the same currency - it's like watching a person with OCD try to plate up for Christmas dinner.

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Frederico Maxwell was a well known man, in certain circles. A party animal. Known philanderer. Womanizer. Wherever he went, a trail of broken hearts followed in his wake, as his long-suffering and elderly aide handled strings of dinner invitations and convincing young women to settle their paternity suits out of court.

And wherever he went, The Fruitbat was not far behind, terrorizing the night and stealing both the hearts of unwary and their valuables.

It was a bit off, but not hard to put together. The precinct did have people that had read comic books, after all, and it was like the prick was just rubbing it in everyone's face. Sure enough, after pulling some strings to get a warrant, some hot property was discovered, and Maxwell was taken in for grand theft, protesting his innocence all the way.

Simple. Neat. Everything falling nicely into place. It was an easy case. Too easy. The first thought that something might be wrong was the look in that aide's eye, almost smug, even as he pretended not to know anything.

He disappeared that day. And that night, with Maxwell in custody and evidence of his nightlife as The Fruitbat piling up against him, The Grey Fox pulled off his first grand heist, making off with millions worth of jewels.

There was no proof. But somehow I knew we'd been set up, and taken in the wrong guy, when I read the headlines in that morning's paper.

I tendered my resignation immediately. What else could I do? I'd had a big part in it, after all, and because of my fuck-up there was an innocent man in jail for crimes that had been perfectly pinned on him. There was no way I could get his release, not without the real perp, probably testimony. So I turned in my badge, and my time as a cop came to an end.

I'm a private investigator now. Or at least, that's my day job, as I follow the trail of the Grey Fox from one robbery to the next. He's a canny old guy, I'll give him that. Probably been doing this for a lot longer than I've been alive.

That's my life now. Private eye by day, taking photographs of cheating spouses and helping old grandmas get their cats out of trees. By night, the Black Hound, on the hunt.

Could be worse. Welcome to the night life.

----

May have come off a bit more noirish and comic-bookey than intended.

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Hahaha... the butler did it.

 

[FurikoMaru]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Gramercy, o Reaper of the Small! :3

 

[Vindictus]

Re: Osaisen, the revengeance.

Frederico Maxwell was a well known man, in certain circles. A party animal. Known philanderer. Womanizer. Wherever he went, a trail of broken hearts followed in his wake, as his long-suffering and elderly aide handled strings of dinner invitations and convincing young women to settle their paternity suits out of court.

And wherever he went, The Fruitbat was not far behind, terrorizing the night and stealing both the hearts of unwary and their valuables.

It was a bit off, but not hard to put together. The precinct did have people that had read comic books, after all, and it was like the prick was just rubbing it in everyone's face. Sure enough, after pulling some strings to get a warrant, some hot property was discovered, and Maxwell was taken in for grand theft, protesting his innocence all the way.

Simple. Neat. Everything falling nicely into place. It was an easy case. Too easy. The first thought that something might be wrong was the look in that aide's eye, almost smug, even as he pretended not to know anything.

He disappeared that day. And that night, with Maxwell in custody and evidence of his nightlife as The Fruitbat piling up against him, The Grey Fox pulled off his first grand heist, making off with millions worth of jewels.

There was no proof. But somehow I knew we'd been set up, and taken in the wrong guy, when I read the headlines in that morning's paper.

I tendered my resignation immediately. What else could I do? I'd had a big part in it, after all, and because of my fuck-up there was an innocent man in jail for crimes that had been perfectly pinned on him. There was no way I could get his release, not without the real perp, probably testimony. So I turned in my badge, and my time as a cop came to an end.

I'm a private investigator now. Or at least, that's my day job, as I follow the trail of the Grey Fox from one robbery to the next. He's a canny old guy, I'll give him that. Probably been doing this for a lot longer than I've been alive.

That's my life now. Private eye by day, taking photographs of cheating spouses and helping old grandmas get their cats out of trees. By night, the Black Hound, on the hunt.

Could be worse. Welcome to the night life.

----

May have come off a bit more noirish and comic-bookey than intended.

Click to shrink...

... This is an excellent entry into a potential larger series.

Make it into a book.

I'm serious, bro.

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

Re: Osaisen, the return of Donations.

It is that time of the month again.

Not the blood-stained and hormonal time of the month, as I'm too not-female and single for those to be an immediate concern. No, it's the time of the month where I look at what I have, and what I'm about to have to pay soon, and realize that the numbers are not even closely resembling happy numbers. Not even if I squint, and not even if I turn them upside down. Nope, frowns all 'round.

To be fair, I have gotten a job interview this month. Today, in fact, which is certainly more progress towards gainful and regular employment than has been seen since the last time I successfully had an interview with someone... may-ish, unless I misrecall. With luck, this one will even go markedly better than the last one, which involved reassurance afterward that I was still in the system and they were considering multiple possibilities right up until the help-wanted sign went right back up and I re-applied but was not contacted for another interview. Details and in the past!

Even so, it doesn't help with bills that have to be paid like monthly clockwork. The short of it is, I am once again approaching those dates, and continue to be without personal income of any sort. So, the time is ripe to point out once more that I am still available for commissioned writing of an entrepreneurial nature: Which is to say, I will write things according to your specifications if you give me money. Once again, original fiction, but don't let that hold you back. Short story, of course... but if you need irrelevant filler back-story for your pen and paper RPG hero, or want to flesh out the history of your shining special snowflake fantasy kingdom with historical minutiae that, let's be frank, it's vanishingly unlikely that any of your players will ever bother to actually read before they get down to the business of exterminating cellar rats for old grannies and genociding the tribe of peaceful kobolds outside of town that just want to be left alone to grow their muckfruit and drink their muckfruit wine in peace, as a pro-active preventative measure against caravan raids? By all means, I'm 'down' with that, as the children say these days, pip pip and cheerio my good fellows.

Or if you just want to give me dollars for nothing in return by the ticklingly warm sensation on the inside of your ribs, or something, that's definitely fine as well.

In any case, after a quick it seems like I've already been beaten to the punch on this matter by an excellent person indeed, and so this is how it stands. I need ~$445 that I do not have.

In any case, I'm really hoping that the interview I had goes through. Sure, it seems like a seasonal thing, so I don't have any actual idea when it would even start, but hopefully soon, and really. It's selling cookies! Who doesn't like cookies, let me ask you that.

People who are allergic to sugar and artificial sweeteners, maybe. Possibly diabetics. And there went the joke, ping, gone like vapor in the wind or a platter of fudge on a school self serve lunch-line after the one fat kid that all schools have passes through. Playful zing.

I might have been the fat kid.

Don't judge me.

 

[Biigoh]

Re: Osaisen, the return of Donations.

[embed=425,349]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVeAEwrL1Ts[/embed]

 

[Ragnarok]

Re: Osaisen or what have you.

US of A.

Specifically texas, which only feels like a different country with its hellacious summer heat sometimes.

Click to shrink...

I hope you aren't one of the nuts who wanted to "secede" from the country. Dumbfucks, the lot of them.

 

[FurikoMaru]

Re: Osaisen, the return of Donations.

What an unsightly and irrelevant first post to make.

 

[Hymn of Ragnarok]

Re: Osaisen, the return of Donations.

I feel ashamed by association.

 

[ward201]

Re: Osaisen, the return of Donations.

is there an ignore option on this site?