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Description
Hi guys~

As a creative person, I have incredibly intricate, detailed dreams to the extent that I draw inspiration and character designs from them. My dreams are more often then not in video game format, and last night I had a dream of… something called Jojo’s Tale.

On thinking about it, I know EXACTLY where this dream originated:
1. My conversation with Hedgey about Jesse McCartney voicing both Roxas and Jojo
2. My wishing that there was a Horton game for quite a while.
3. My writing almost every time I possibly can on an upcoming thing

It went something like this:
The Horton Incident never occurred, but somehow Jojo got the Mayor to accept him anyways. Whoville was suffering from a drought, so Jojo and Ned went up to this… floating island. It was gorgeous, a five-mile island with nothing but cliffs, endless fields of flowers in every color you could imagine, and this old abandoned house with Plexiglass windows and the entrance to some tunnels inside. Jojo had invented this thing called a weather cannon that could both predict the weather and change it if needed, and they’d gone up to the island to test it. (The island didn’t suffer from the drought because it was inside of a cloud, by the way.)

On the mainland, trouble was brewing. A few months before the beginning of this thing, there had been a small blip in the fabric of time-space and other dimensional crap like that, bringing Sour Kangaroo and- of all people!- me into the Whos’ world. The reasoning behind this being, in my mind the world set goes Nool > Whoville > Earth. So Sour was shrunken and myself inflated. Sour had joined the local government while Jojo and I had become quite good friends a few months back. In the present, Sour was stirring up a mob like she has the skill to do, saying:

“They’ve created a weapon! Are you really going to let them become a threat?! We’ve got to get rid of them before it turns into all-out war!”

And she succeeded. Sour, I don’t know WHY I like you. -___-

So then there’s this huge angry mob heading up to the floating island (I think I was asleep in my own dream cause I sure wasn’t there lD) when Jojo and Ned are almost done installing the cannon. Ned hears all of the hullabaloo, figures out what’s happening, and throws Jojo into the abandoned building, jamming the door shut as the mob surrounds him. He put up a definite fight, but eventually Sour broke through the crowd… hammer in her hand.

And, right there in the middle of the mob, with Jojo behind the door screaming to be let out, Sour smashed the Mayor’s head like an egg.

O.O

And really? She was only targeting Jojo and Ned for that very reason- to kill the Mayor so she could assume power, knowing Jojo didn’t want to be Mayor and she even had a chance at scaring him away altogether if she killed him right in front of him. DX

The mob tries to break into the abandoned house after that but they can’t do it for some reason. Jojo, sobbing his eyes out, ran further into the house, down into the deep passages spanning the length and height of the islands, down into the monster-infested darkness...

Three years passed.

On the day his father died, Jojo had started a journal he swore to keep writing in until the third anniversary of his death, when the journal would run out of pages, when he would return to the surface. He’d set up almost a gymnasium full of nothing but training equipment so that he could defend against the amazingly strong beasts of the tunnels if need be, and dedicatedly practiced for two hours every day. At seventeen, Jojo was tall, strong, and lean. He’d grown his hair out in the tunnels. (Don’t ask me why, okay?)

The day the journal ran out of pages, Jojo finished forging a short, light, oversized sword and headed out into the tunnels to return to Whoville. (This was laid out like the tutorial section of a game. ) Remember how I said the beasts were incredibly strong and tough? Jojo cut through them like freakin’ butter. YESH.

Back on the surface of the island, it was unchanged as ever. Jojo swung by the decrepit ruins of his weather cannon- the only thing that had changed- then slid down the long rope connecting the island to the mainland.

It hadn’t rained for three years in Whoville. Everything was brown and withered. Everyone was working, building, farming, whatever- slaves under the Kangaroo, constantly watched by her most elite, cruel guards. Jojo, in the shadows, learns that all families have been split up to keep their morale down and under control, and that to find the rest of his family he’ll need to run all over the place. But, in truth, Sour is like Hitler- working those she dislikes to death- and likely a good portion of Jojo’s sisters are dead.

So, for a while, Jojo runs around being the people’s freedom fighter, battling the guards to the death or- if they’re not truly devoted to Sour- changing their allegiances back to their fellow Who. He also has to battle the dangerous wild animals that have overrun the town in the drought, desperately searching for a meal.

Whoville, though organically brown and barren, has had all of its buildings replaced with massive, chrome and white architecture. In the largest of these, the Kangaroo awaits. She lazes away all day atop her throne, palms fanning her, gold crown atop her pointy ears, eating peeled grapes one by one out of a silver bowl. Jojo infiltrates the castle and sees her ordering away executions and steps out to challenge her, but there’s more to Sour than meets the eye.

I’ve always thought that Sour would be great in combat, with her powerful legs and speed, and in my dream she had been fitted with massive steel gloves for her feet. As in, they had toes. Jojo swung his sword at her skull, but- fast as lightning- she countered with her foot-glove and disarmed him, then spinning-kicked him in the center of the chest, breaking like two of his ribs. Her elite guard put him in shackles and sent him to Sour’s prison.

In the prison, which has ninety floors, the deeper you go, the tighter the security and the more horrible the torment, thus the more dangerous the criminal the farther down they are stationed. Jojo got sent immediately to the ninetieth floor, way down under the ground, which only had one prisoner…

Me.

O________O

Yeah, before last night, I’d had four dreams all connected, in first person, in which I’d gained powers from the Genie in Aladdin. I had the power to use any one power of any one animal at a time, although they would not physically manifest themselves, so I could have invisible wings, gills, horns, ect. Along with all the strength and speed of animals if I wanted. Apparently I’d been causing quite some trouble for the Kangaroo and her underlings. >:3

The ninetieth floor has no apparent tortures.
It is large and open.
Once you get down there, you never see light again.
The darkness will drive you insane.

When the elevator door slammed, I was sitting, hands around my knees, staring at the floor, unresponsive. But when Jojo arrived, I looked up at him and used the glowing power of the deep-sea fishes to see who it was.

And, well, OLD FRENZ. We got to talking about what we’d been up to over the past three years, and stuff, and then in this quiet part:
Morgan (the closest you’ll ever get to my name, a sort of pseudonym usually used for my dreamself): You know, I’ve always really liked you…
Jojo: ….hofuk. O/////////O

Before people have a panic attack, I can’t help what my brain does when I’m zonked out. XD;; And also, I was seventeen in my dream. …I sorta panicked a little myself. Lawlsauce.

So then Jojo had a spaz attack and managed to break the both of us and a lot of other prisoners out of the Kangaroo’s prison and went up to confront and fight her for the final battle and of course my dreamself panicked and… snoggedhimrightonthelipsforgoodluck.

Idk. O__O’’

And then, of course, right before the Sour Kangaroo v.s. Jojo battle, I woke up.

What sort of deal is that?! D:<

Ah well.

So anyway, after all that crap, this is how he looked in my dream. I really like the one I penciled in. This is what happens when I actually take my time and sketch everything else out first, is it not? XD;;

I love his hair. <3 I thought it was gonna come out all dumb and girly, which it wasn’t. It was kinda like Link’s or something. I somehow pulled it off. I’ve tried drawing long-haired dudes before but they looked so gay. Woot.

…the entire time i’ve been typing this on Microsoft Word it’s been tossing out really dumb suggestions that are either huge grammar fails or:
‘WE DUNNO WHAT WHOS OR JOJO ARE, PLZ FIX THIS OR WE WILL HAVE A TEMPER TANTRUM. ‘

Fail!

….wow, four pages. I think I’ll shut up now.

Description
Hi guys~

As a creative person, I have incredibly intricate, detailed dreams to the extent that I draw inspiration and character designs from them. My dreams are more often then not in video game format, and last night I had a dream of… something called Jojo’s Tale.

On thinking about it, I know EXACTLY where this dream originated:
1. My conversation with Hedgey about Jesse McCartney voicing both Roxas and Jojo
2. My wishing that there was a Horton game for quite a while.
3. My writing almost every time I possibly can on an upcoming thing

It went something like this:
The Horton Incident never occurred, but somehow Jojo got the Mayor to accept him anyways. Whoville was suffering from a drought, so Jojo and Ned went up to this… floating island. It was gorgeous, a five-mile island with nothing but cliffs, endless fields of flowers in every color you could imagine, and this old abandoned house with Plexiglass windows and the entrance to some tunnels inside. Jojo had invented this thing called a weather cannon that could both predict the weather and change it if needed, and they’d gone up to the island to test it. (The island didn’t suffer from the drought because it was inside of a cloud, by the way.)

On the mainland, trouble was brewing. A few months before the beginning of this thing, there had been a small blip in the fabric of time-space and other dimensional crap like that, bringing Sour Kangaroo and- of all people!- me into the Whos’ world. The reasoning behind this being, in my mind the world set goes Nool > Whoville > Earth. So Sour was shrunken and myself inflated. Sour had joined the local government while Jojo and I had become quite good friends a few months back. In the present, Sour was stirring up a mob like she has the skill to do, saying:

“They’ve created a weapon! Are you really going to let them become a threat?! We’ve got to get rid of them before it turns into all-out war!”

And she succeeded. Sour, I don’t know WHY I like you. -___-

So then there’s this huge angry mob heading up to the floating island (I think I was asleep in my own dream cause I sure wasn’t there lD) when Jojo and Ned are almost done installing the cannon. Ned hears all of the hullabaloo, figures out what’s happening, and throws Jojo into the abandoned building, jamming the door shut as the mob surrounds him. He put up a definite fight, but eventually Sour broke through the crowd… hammer in her hand.

And, right there in the middle of the mob, with Jojo behind the door screaming to be let out, Sour smashed the Mayor’s head like an egg.

O.O

And really? She was only targeting Jojo and Ned for that very reason- to kill the Mayor so she could assume power, knowing Jojo didn’t want to be Mayor and she even had a chance at scaring him away altogether if she killed him right in front of him. DX

The mob tries to break into the abandoned house after that but they can’t do it for some reason. Jojo, sobbing his eyes out, ran further into the house, down into the deep passages spanning the length and height of the islands, down into the monster-infested darkness...

Three years passed.

On the day his father died, Jojo had started a journal he swore to keep writing in until the third anniversary of his death, when the journal would run out of pages, when he would return to the surface. He’d set up almost a gymnasium full of nothing but training equipment so that he could defend against the amazingly strong beasts of the tunnels if need be, and dedicatedly practiced for two hours every day. At seventeen, Jojo was tall, strong, and lean. He’d grown his hair out in the tunnels. (Don’t ask me why, okay?)

The day the journal ran out of pages, Jojo finished forging a short, light, oversized sword and headed out into the tunnels to return to Whoville. (This was laid out like the tutorial section of a game. ) Remember how I said the beasts were incredibly strong and tough? Jojo cut through them like freakin’ butter. YESH.

Back on the surface of the island, it was unchanged as ever. Jojo swung by the decrepit ruins of his weather cannon- the only thing that had changed- then slid down the long rope connecting the island to the mainland.

It hadn’t rained for three years in Whoville. Everything was brown and withered. Everyone was working, building, farming, whatever- slaves under the Kangaroo, constantly watched by her most elite, cruel guards. Jojo, in the shadows, learns that all families have been split up to keep their morale down and under control, and that to find the rest of his family he’ll need to run all over the place. But, in truth, Sour is like Hitler- working those she dislikes to death- and likely a good portion of Jojo’s sisters are dead.

So, for a while, Jojo runs around being the people’s freedom fighter, battling the guards to the death or- if they’re not truly devoted to Sour- changing their allegiances back to their fellow Who. He also has to battle the dangerous wild animals that have overrun the town in the drought, desperately searching for a meal.

Whoville, though organically brown and barren, has had all of its buildings replaced with massive, chrome and white architecture. In the largest of these, the Kangaroo awaits. She lazes away all day atop her throne, palms fanning her, gold crown atop her pointy ears, eating peeled grapes one by one out of a silver bowl. Jojo infiltrates the castle and sees her ordering away executions and steps out to challenge her, but there’s more to Sour than meets the eye.

I’ve always thought that Sour would be great in combat, with her powerful legs and speed, and in my dream she had been fitted with massive steel gloves for her feet. As in, they had toes. Jojo swung his sword at her skull, but- fast as lightning- she countered with her foot-glove and disarmed him, then spinning-kicked him in the center of the chest, breaking like two of his ribs. Her elite guard put him in shackles and sent him to Sour’s prison.

In the prison, which has ninety floors, the deeper you go, the tighter the security and the more horrible the torment, thus the more dangerous the criminal the farther down they are stationed. Jojo got sent immediately to the ninetieth floor, way down under the ground, which only had one prisoner…

Me.

O________O

Yeah, before last night, I’d had four dreams all connected, in first person, in which I’d gained powers from the Genie in Aladdin. I had the power to use any one power of any one animal at a time, although they would not physically manifest themselves, so I could have invisible wings, gills, horns, ect. Along with all the strength and speed of animals if I wanted. Apparently I’d been causing quite some trouble for the Kangaroo and her underlings. >:3

The ninetieth floor has no apparent tortures.
It is large and open.
Once you get down there, you never see light again.
The darkness will drive you insane.

When the elevator door slammed, I was sitting, hands around my knees, staring at the floor, unresponsive. But when Jojo arrived, I looked up at him and used the glowing power of the deep-sea fishes to see who it was.

And, well, OLD FRENZ. We got to talking about what we’d been up to over the past three years, and stuff, and then in this quiet part:
Morgan (the closest you’ll ever get to my name, a sort of pseudonym usually used for my dreamself): You know, I’ve always really liked you…
Jojo: ….hofuk. O/////////O

Before people have a panic attack, I can’t help what my brain does when I’m zonked out. XD;; And also, I was seventeen in my dream. …I sorta panicked a little myself. Lawlsauce.

So then Jojo had a spaz attack and managed to break the both of us and a lot of other prisoners out of the Kangaroo’s prison and went up to confront and fight her for the final battle and of course my dreamself panicked and… snoggedhimrightonthelipsforgoodluck.

Idk. O__O’’

And then, of course, right before the Sour Kangaroo v.s. Jojo battle, I woke up.

What sort of deal is that?! D:<

Ah well.

So anyway, after all that crap, this is how he looked in my dream. I really like the one I penciled in. This is what happens when I actually take my time and sketch everything else out first, is it not? XD;;

I love his hair. <3 I thought it was gonna come out all dumb and girly, which it wasn’t. It was kinda like Link’s or something. I somehow pulled it off. I’ve tried drawing long-haired dudes before but they looked so gay. Woot.

…the entire time i’ve been typing this on Microsoft Word it’s been tossing out really dumb suggestions that are either huge grammar fails or:
‘WE DUNNO WHAT WHOS OR JOJO ARE, PLZ FIX THIS OR WE WILL HAVE A TEMPER TANTRUM. ‘

Fail!

….wow, four pages. I think I’ll shut up now.