Call me Smeet. Or Eternal. Or you can use my real name if you know it. Professionally, I work full-time as a 3D environment artist for video games, but you likely won’t see much of that kind of work here. This blog is an outlet for me to share my personal works, and discuss my OCs and the lore around them and the world they live in. One day I would really like to make a comic about them. Eventually.

I enjoy getting asks about my characters and stuff because it helps me flesh out my lore

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Okai was born and raised in a small town in the countryside. Her family ran a small inn, where she met many interesting people. Her favorite guests were the occasional adventurers, on daring quests for gold and glory.

For most of her childhood, Okai’s life was peaceful and uneventful, until an arcane fissure opened up in the middle of the town. Having been sent out on an errand at the time, Okai returned and was devastated to discover her entire family and home had been enveloped by the fissure.

Afterward, Okai travelled to the city of Welwick with other survivors of the fissure. For a couple years she worked odd jobs for a few coins, and slept in a hovel with other refugees. When she was old enough, she joined the city guard. While the pay is not great, it is consistent and a bed to sleep on is provided.

In the present day, arcane fissures continue to destroy homes and livelihoods across the continent. Refugee camps surround Welwick, and the city guard has been “encouraged” to find any excuse to keep them from flooding the inner city. Okai struggles between wanting to be kind to these people, and needing to follow the rules in order to stay off the streets herself. Having been reported a few times for letting beggars steal food, she’s already on thin ice.

I see they’ve finally brought the terrible new UI to mobile

Bumper is an adolescent arag from the Pebb region of Aragnia, living in a port town with his mother and father. He is curious but somewhat oblivious, not always aware of what’s going on around him. While generally friendly and happy, he is shy and gets anxious in unfamiliar situations.

Bumper’s parents are historians, studying with a small team of other historians and archaeologists. They occasionally leave to go on expeditions - or “daring quests for knowledge” as they’ve told their son. Bumper looks up to them and dreams of joining them someday, but his parents never seem to want to entertain the idea when he brings it up. They tell him it’s too dangerous, but how dangerous could the life of a historian really be?

In their absence Bumper’s parents leave him in the care of various neighbors and others in the community. Bumper keeps in touch with them through a pair of enchanted journals - whatever is written in one will appear in the other. Though their messages are frequent, his parents never seem to say much about what they are doing.

Before their current expedition, Bumper’s parents warned him that they would probably be gone much longer than any other trip before, as they were heading far south. Bumper has used his journal as usual to keep in touch with his parents - until he stops hearing from them completely. He grows worried and eventually makes the decision to go and find them. Taking what money he can, his books passage on a ship bound for the trade city Welwick, where he hopes to hire an adventurer or two to help him discover what happened to his family.

“Long ago, when the world was newly shaped by the ancient spirits, it was time to fill the world with life. Some made plants, some made animals, and one made us, the arags. There are many stories about those spirits, but those are for another time.

I want to tell you about three younger spirits. They are still ancient by our standards, but mere children in the eyes of the other spirits. These three were siblings, and when they saw arags brought to life, they each decided they wanted to make their own people.

‘My people will be tough and durable,’ said the first sibling. 'They will be resilient enough to weather any hardship, and they will learn to sing and dance, so their lives are always filled with joy.’

'My people will be swift and agile,’ said the second sibling. 'They will be quick enough to escape any danger, and they will learn to care for their sick and elderly, so their lives are always filled with love.’

'My people will be strong and mighty,’ said the third sibling. 'They will have the strength to vanquish any foe, and they will lean to cook and bake, so their lives are always filled with flavor.’

So the siblings parted ways to work on their people, shaping them in the ways they had spoken of. When they were done, they returned to each other to share their creations.

'I think you will like my people,’ said the first sibling. 'They are hardy and intelligent, and have learned to forge metal!’

'I think you will like my people,’ said the second sibling. 'They are dexterous and thoughtful, and have learned to make music!’

'I think you will like my people,’ said the third sibling. 'They are tough and joyous, and have learned to weave fabrics!’

Unable to contain their excitement, the siblings revealed their people to each other, only to discover they had made their people almost entirely identical. Each people walked on two legs, had smooth skin, and a patch of hair on top or their heads. The only differences between them were one had pointed ears, one had pointed teeth, and one had no remarkable features to speak of.

The siblings became angry and began to accuse each other of copying their designs, but there was nothing that could be done as the people were already alive. The three peoples watched their creator bickering, and began to bicker among themselves, as they still do today.

And that, child, is why we stay out of the affairs of humans, lest we get caught in the middle of their petty arguments. Now, no more questions. It is time for you to go to sleep.”

— An Aragnian tale about how most arags can’t really tell the human races apart, and why they always seem to be fighting with each other

Who is this dangerous plastic-eating crow boy all over my dash? Didn’t we just get into juggling?

Just a boy and his special piece of paper

I love spider season in Seattle, and I LOVE when people come to Seattle not knowing we have spider season. By the time you leave you will know what an arachnoleptic fit is.

Man I’m in a really weird place right now where I’m actually feeling super motivated to do things, but between work and sleeping there just isn’t enough time in the day to do everything I want. And because I can’t decide what to spend my limited free time focusing on, I end up procrastinating and playing on my phone anyways 🙃