This is Pythosblaze's place for keeping stuff related to the AJCO-verse. This will be a lot of screenshots, some art, and the occasional video, fanfiction, or chat log. This can be difficult to follow, but if you are confused or have a question, my askbox is always open!

Story Summary
Character Sheet
Character Notes
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the tiniest angry pythos you could imagine.jpg
I was sketching something and realized that Pythos is shorter than AJ (and Nights) so uh

Aww that’s adorable! She doesn’t need to be tall. It just means her rage is more concentrated!
Anonymous asked: is the server open to new people or is it just open to people involved in the rp? i tried to dig around but i didn't find a server address in my search so i decided wouldn't be much harm in asking?

The server is really only open to people who have interest in contributing to the rp, but we do take new players occasionally!

It’s a whitelisted, private server, so the address isn’t really anywhere. If you want to join, ask AJ. It isn’t my call, I’m afraid

Fair warning, we’re about at server capacity so there may not be room for new players at this time


THIS IS IN PROGRESS and I’m having some difficulty finding everyone’s references, so if you have one for me or I have you in the wrong faction or something, please tell me!

Divided by the current factions. I’ll try to remember to update if factions shift (no I won’t)

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A commission for Pythos of her lovely character Frances in a problematic situation.  
The gore for this was super fun, working with blue blood is really interesting. The colors were just so relaxing to paint with.  I really enjoyed coming home from my job to work on this.

AAAA yesss this is incredible! You drew my dear cyber jerk most beautifully. Inside and out

More OC crap
I’ll draw an interesting pose some day

Part II. In a shifting succession of worlds, a single constant. The more I strive for answers the more tightly coils the riddle. Into a threaded knot as hard as stone that will unravel for no fingers and cannot be eased but by the picking of a needle. Cameo. I think of you. The girl who was pulled. From the world next door.Sometimes, in the facility, when the foundations ache and sing and resettle with the weight of rain on the muddied sand a mile above I think of the voices of the void. Sometimes when I am alone in my office I read your words and listen once more. And think. Ankle length dresses. White lace. Song that rises and falls. Dark silk. Song that the wind wavers on a birdless wire. Wending. The sky is as white as clay. Low cloud moving now. Brocade that the pale sun weaves.In the many worlds there is a single constant. Scrape the slumbering bedrock threadbare and you will find it. Brimming. Cameo. The needle… The worlds are like vellum pages. Bound. A volume. And as we fell we drew a ragged path through the binding our worlds shared. We pulled. And I am so very sorry.But this time will be different. For there is a needle to guide. And it is not of the compass. And we only need a point to pierce.

You asked for evidence. For scientific rigor. Why was I once again seeking that place. I will tell you. If you will only listen. Under the hiss and sigh of many sycamores I sit to write. My heart beats in my throat with the push and pull of the weary tide. The cold makes old scars ache. My breath staggers and hitches. Chest crushed. The sunlight here is glitter on the water. The sunlight here is pale white. Home. That once was and is now not.Francesa.There are so many worlds. Some are ash that courses over stone. Some are sweet fields that ripple as water and are pressed flat by the new rain. And some are worlds that we belong to. These worlds shift. They shift as the loose pages of book torn by crosswinds. Take a needle. Press it as you would into flesh. Into the pages. Into the leaves. Pierce the unquiet worlds. They cease to dance. There is a pinhole. Through each. And each is now connected.Were you beside me I could demonstrate. Remove the pin. Hold the sheaf to the pallid sun. There. A bead of light. On one side, the chapter’s beginning. On the other, the chapter’s close. But what of the between.What is a page, if it is unread. What is a world, if it is unseen. If it is nothing but a passageway. Nothing. Everything. A speculation. A darkness. An order. A disarray. What is a world if it is unseen, but not unfelt? Francesa.I know now why the void whispered.And it began with the girl.

A lovely passage…
It’s a real shame this proves nothing. I would have liked to help you. To accompany you in a new scientific journey.
Poetic madness is madness nonetheless
PVP ‘Funkytown’


The fight starts at 9pm tonight; it’s Lavender’s birthday so please remember to kill her first.

Happy birthday Lav! For your birthday you will receive one head on a spike. Your head, to be precise.