Art Sales

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/tuYo3IM.png[/img][/center] [size=2]You wander through a dark forest, the cold night air licking at your skin. In the distance, you hear the sound of an ominous saxophone. You shiver and walk faster. The crooked, leafless trees draw closer and closer together as you walk deeper into the woods. A loud “Thunk!” resonates through the forest as your skull strikes a low hanging branch. You glare angrily at the tree standing before you and shine your flashlight at it, only to discover that it is made entirely of compacted garbage. You look around and discover that this is true of every other tree in the area as well. [columns] [img]https://i.imgur.com/uM7npmM.png[/img] [nextcol] “Strange…” You mutter under your breath. “Smelly too…” Your nose wrinkles and you walk faster, ducking under branches and trying not to breathe too deep. After a few more minutes of walking, you arrive at a massive pile of various garbage. The pile is made up of all manner of cans, bricks, stones, bones, glass shards and candy wrappers. You look up, trying to find an end to all the garbage, yet you find none. The pile seemingly touches the clouds and goes beyond them. At the base of the pile, you find a small, round door. The door is made of pleasant, smooth birchwood with a round, brass doorknob. You pull the door open and walk through. You hit your head on the way in and make a mental note to duck lower on your way out. [/columns] [columns] “If I even make it out…” You say, out loud, like some sort of weirdo who talks to themself. “What was that, dear?” A smooth, buttery voice floats through the darkness. A lamp near the ceiling lights up, illuminating a pleasant room around you. Luxurious, soft carpets line the floors, beautiful paintings cover the walls, and the air is filled with the scent of flowers and expensive alcohol. “Please, take a seat.” Murmurs the voice from earlier. You look in its direction and see a small table with two small chairs next to it, just at the edge of the lamp’s light. A small, hairy figure sits in one of the chairs, enveloped in shadows. All you can see is its chubby silhouette, and twinkling yellow eyes. [nextcol] [img]https://i.imgur.com/MJTyH0y.png[/img] [/columns] [size=2]You try to sit in the chair, but find that it is too small for you, and apparently made of the bones of some exotic creature. You carefully push the chair aside and take a seat on the floor. Your eyes meet the eyes of the mysterious animal across from you. It silently fills two glasses with some crimson liquid, then slides one of the glasses across the table. The liquid smells expensive. So expensive, in fact, that you feel a bit lightheaded. “Umm, no thank you.” You mumble as you push the glass away, to the center of the table. “Very well, suit yourself dear. So… You wanna buy some writing?” The critter leans in over the table, revealing itself to be a fat, giant raccoon. It has bright pink nail polish on its tiny claws, a tiny, golden skull pierced into its right ear and an excited, mischievous twinkle in its eye. “That earring looks fantastic on you!” You can’t help but point out. “Why, thank you! But let’s talk business.” The raccoon seems a bit flustered, clearly not used to this kind of social interaction. It’s no surprise, really. After all, it does live in a pile of garbage, in the middle of nowhere. “Oh, right.” You regain your train of thought. “I heard you were the best writer in the land, so I came to ask you to write me a story.” The raccoon strokes the fur on its chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I can do that, but it will cost you.” You look at the animal inquisitively, as it slides a sheet of paper across the table. You look down at it and read: [img]https://i.imgur.com/IAjWumN.png[/img] You finish reading and look up from the paper. The raccoon is watching you closely and sipping its wine. It lifts an eyebrow questioningly. “This seems fair. How can I send you my request and payment?” Suddenly, the raccoon is standing beside you. You feel its coarse, furry paw slip a small piece of paper into your hand. “Send it via carrier pigeon to this address.” [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/G2kgHyS.png[/img][/center] [SIZE=2]“You best be going now, it is getting rather late.” You hear behind you, as two tiny paws plant themselves on you lower back and start pushing you towards the door. “I still have to play my dragon a lullaby, the little mongrel won’t sleep unless it hears smooth jazz. I look forward to working with you in the near future, have a great evening!” The tiny wooden door slams shut behind you, and a moment later you hear the ominous saxophone from before, deep within the trash pile. “What a weirdo.” You sigh as you begin the long walk back through the trash forest.

[center][size=3][b]Types of Writing Offered[/b][/size][/center] [center]Clan profiles, Dragon/Oc Stories and lore, Bios, etc. Feel free to ask about specific things. [center][size=3][b]Slots[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=2]- - - - - [center][size=3][b]Pinglist[/b][/size][/center] [center][size=2] - [center][size=3][b]Order Form[/b][/size][/center] [code][b]Username:[/b] [b]Dragon/Character/Clan:[/b] [b]Type of Writing:[/b] [b]Details (Be as detailed as possible!):[/b] [b]Extras:[/b] [b]Word Count:[/b][/code]