Hi, Hex! Please could I have one? My pronouns are she/her, and my appearance is dark brown hair, green eyes with flecks of gold, and stylish (not necessarily fashionable, just stylish) accessories and clothes. Thanks!

Hi Hex, could you do my OCs?

Jake-he/him, white with blue hair, tan

Lily-she/her,asian, sweet and loyal

Alailea-she/her, half asian half white, brown hair and eyes, tan, scorpio vibes 

Woah. 

I took a look at the written picturings you've made and they are soooo good.

If it's okay I think I won't give you any deets on me.

Thank you so much!

P.S. You can take your time, I don't mind.

It’s almost like she’s flying. Sitting astride her brown-haired stallion and going as fast as the wind, if not faster. Her long dark brown hair is straight and whipping in the wind, flying over her shoulder. The tips gleam golden as if baked in sunlight as they forever play catch-up with the golden circlet carefully tangled through the strands. Her eyes are as green as jade, and as she tilts her head the flecks of gold sparkle, depths deepening: so wise for one so young. There’s a flower tucked behind her ear—a poinsettia, red leaves branching into a perfect star-flower, vibrant and brave yet soft and calm, reflecting the wearer. She’s wearing a soft green dress that flows like a brook, the silken weave breaking at her feet like waves crashing against the shore. It’s embroidered with careful golden swoops: leaves, falling down her as if drifting in a breeze. Little threaded creatures peek out from in-between—owls with big eyes, squirrels with bushy tails. They vibrate as she moves, almost seeming to blink and ruffle their feathers or fur.

She thinks a command, and almost before she can form the words in her head, the horse throws back his head and whinnies, breakneck pace speeding up further still. She speaks to the horse, but her voice, so often a clear bell, is swallowed up in the wind as if it never happened. The wind that rushes past her pointed elven ears, isolating her into a cacophonous cocoon of wordless song and solitude.

She looks relieved, somehow. As if this freedom was earned. As if she’s so used to being the leader, the one people look to, the ray of sun lighting up a dark world. She’s so used to worry and care and so used to trying until she breaks, even then still going, trying, breaking.

She’s still trying. But sometimes—sometimes, she has to be free.

Thank you, Hex! That was beautiful, and I feel like it portrayed me very well. I love how you put the horse in. (I adore horses.)

The sand shifts around the fighting pair, dunes transitioning into flat mounds broken with wild footprints and scuff marks. Every second they morph, rising up in wild shapes, then flying forward and sinking down, harmless grains of sand once more. In the midst of this desolate desert of singing sands are three people.

There’s a boy with pale skin and hair like an ocean, azure waves shot though with strands of sky and slate and sapphire, entangling in a tapestry of blue. His eyes complement his hair, being large, cobalt, and puppyish, looking like he just lost a lollipop. He’s locked in combat with a girl who’s tan skin shines in the sunlight, highlighting the hurt shining in her harsh brown eyes. Her long brown braid whips up like a scorpion’s tail, just like her—ready to strike. The third girl is standing on the side of the pair with shining sienna skin and mellow black eyes, straight midnight hair reaching down her back tangling with the hands spread out in front of her in a warning: don’t strike.

They strike. Diving and rolling and kicking up clouds of sand that obscure each other’s sight, they pounce. First the blue-haired boy is on top, then the scorpion girl. She waves her hand, and the dunes close in on top and around, broken only slightly by the blue boy’s feeble attempts to conjure water: his element.

The third girl—the forgotten girl—hurries over. She steps between them, hands still held out in a gesture of peace. She murmurs soft words to each, and they step away, still glaring.

If they’re the ocean waves and the desert scorpion—forever at odds—then she’s the clouds rolling in to calm their tempers. She’s the wind blowing away stray tears and whispering words of comfort, the sun peeking out from behind the wisps of sky, shining resolutely against the storm.

~~~

This one isn't as good—it was hard to put three people in one setting so they got much less individual detail. Still, I hope you like it. Also, by the way, what are these characters for? They sound interesting and I'd love to know more about the story they come from—perhaps if you post it one day?

Also wow I'm averaging five days per request... that's pretty bad... my apologies to all of you.