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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Jimmy DawgMale/Canada Recent Activity
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Jimmy Dawg
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
///SHOUTOUT-- The awesome dude :icontecsinom: drew this pic for me, full credit there!!--///
Just an about-average guy who enjoys video games and being with friends. Currently working on the writing project Toby Scotch In Whisper. If anyone's interested in a collab or crossover or anything like that, just message me.
The link below is a chat page where you can talk to me if you want to, usually when I'm online I'll be there. (Do not spam or the link will be removed.)
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Activity


All my stuff is on one side :-/ does anyone know how to make it not do that?
Toby or Takeout?!?
((Author's note: In the first chapter I said Toby was Arizonian. He is not. He is an Eastern Canadian, from the Maritime Provinces.))
(Also, I know it's confusing. Everything will be sorted out next chapter.)
(Or will it?)
(DUN-DUN-DUN!!)
Toshiba opened up the door of the apartment and he and Toby stepped in and looked around. It was a small white room. On the left was a door to what he presumed was a living room, and on the right, a staircase that went up and forwards. Straight ahead was a short hallway. "Hey Toshi, you got it the takeout?" Toby heard a voice from down the hallway. It was amiable, with a bit of a British accent. A big man stepped out of the kitchen and looked down at Toby. He was about 6 feet tall. "Toby, meet Kurt. Kurt, meet Toby." "Nice to meet you, Toby." Toby took good look back at him, from the feet up. He was had worn steel-toed boots on his feet, above those, old blue jeans clung tightly to muscular legs, with patched knees and sewn on cargo pockets, and he wore a white T-shirt with the words 'Strive To Win' written on the front in cracking vinyl letters. The top layer of words was red, the middle black, the bottom row blue. This was topped with a shiny leather jacket, perfectly fit to his frame, and his skin.... His skin was an organic, matte bronze with a pattern of hexagonal indents, almost like scales, spread across it in an endless pattern. He had chiseled, yet soft facial features, and a long scar running across the back of his left hand. He had aviator sunglasses, a gold-polarized pair, up on his forehead, poking out of a large bush of maroon hair, spiked out all over. He was quite unique-looking, in short. "Smells good." He noted to Toshiba. "Yeah, sure does." Toby blinked. "What?" Kurt flashed Toby a grin, and Toby noticed that he had sharp teeth... A forked tongue flickered out and tasted the air, then darted back in. "Uh...." Toby was uncomfortable with this fact. "I'm... Gonna go up and take.... Take a nap, okay?" "C'mon, Toby, join us for supper. It'd be nothing without you..." He dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down a long hallway. "Hey, wait up!" Toshiba started after him, but wasn't as fast as Toby's fear carried him. He pushed a white door open and barrelled into a seemingly empty bedroom, save for a single queen-sized bed, gasping for breath. His momentum carried him across the room on to the bed, and he slammed down onto it expecting a soft landing. Instead, he felt himself crash into a warm body under the sheets."Vhat ze?!" He heard a Russian voice, female and somewhat low and smooth sharply yell from under said blankets. "Yah! I am soooo sorry, miss..." Toby turned a bright red and scrabbled off of the person. "Uh....I'm Toby, I just moved here..... Sorry for the trouble..." "My name.... Is Allie Synval. Any for interrupting my nap, vous, Toby, are going to face ze death penalty." "I'm already facing death! They were talking about me like I'm cheap takeout food!" "Vell, vous smell like eit." "Huh?" "Vous smell like... Hovw do I say zis....human..." "Well, of course. I AM human." "So vous are takeout." "No. As far as I'm concerned, we're all human here." "Vous is kidding me, right-?" "Huh?" "Vous just don't get zis, do vous?" Toby felt something sharp pierce his left foot, straight through a red hi-top, and pain surged through his body. He was in complete agony for five seconds... Suddenly, he was losing consciousness. Everything slowly melted away into blackness, leaving just him and his thoughts. He fought the urge to pass out, to give in, but he couldn't. His mind melted away into the nothingness, and then, there was silence. Darkness. A void. 
Toby or Takeout?!?
((Author's note: In the first chapter I said Toby was Arizonian. He is not. He is an Eastern Canadian, from the Maritime Provinces.))
(Also, I know it's confusing. Everything will be sorted out next chapter.)
(Or will it?)
(DUN-DUN-DUN!!)
Toshiba opened up the door of the apartment and he and Toby stepped in and looked around. It was a small white room. On the left was a door to what he presumed was a living room, and on the right, a staircase that went up and forwards. Straight ahead was a short hallway. "Hey Toshi, you got it the takeout?" Toby heard a voice from down the hallway. It was amiable, with a bit of a British accent. A big man stepped out of the kitchen and looked down at Toby. He was about 6 feet tall. "Toby, meet Kurt. Kurt, meet Toby." "Nice to meet you, Toby." Toby took good look back at him, from the feet up. He was had worn steel-toed boots on his feet, above those, old blue jeans clung tightly to muscular legs, with patched knees and sewn on cargo pockets, and he wore a white T-shirt with the words 'Strive To Win' written on the front in cracking vinyl letters. The top layer of words was red, the middle black, the bottom row blue. This was topped with a shiny leather jacket, perfectly fit to his frame, and his skin.... His skin was an organic, matte bronze with a pattern of hexagonal indents, almost like scales, spread across it in an endless pattern. He had chiseled, yet soft facial features, and a long scar running across the back of his left hand. He had aviator sunglasses, a gold-polarized pair, up on his forehead, poking out of a large bush of maroon hair, spiked out all over. He was quite unique-looking, in short. "Smells good." He noted to Toshiba. "Yeah, sure does." Toby blinked. "What?" Kurt flashed Toby a grin, and Toby noticed that he had sharp teeth... A forked tongue flickered out and tasted the air, then darted back in. "Uh...." Toby was uncomfortable with this fact. "I'm... Gonna go up and take.... Take a nap, okay?" "C'mon, Toby, join us for supper. It'd be nothing without you..." He dashed up the stairs, and sprinted down a long hallway. "Hey, wait up!" Toshiba started after him, but wasn't as fast as Toby's fear carried him. He pushed a white door open and barrelled into a seemingly empty bedroom, save for a single queen-sized bed, gasping for breath. His momentum carried him across the room on to the bed, and he slammed down onto it expecting a soft landing. Instead, he felt himself crash into a warm body under the sheets."Vhat ze?!" He heard a Russian voice, female and somewhat low and smooth sharply yell from under said blankets. "Yah! I am soooo sorry, miss..." Toby turned a bright red and scrabbled off of the person. "Uh....I'm Toby, I just moved here..... Sorry for the trouble..." "My name.... Is Allie Synval. Any for interrupting my nap, vous, Toby, are going to face ze death penalty." "I'm already facing death! They were talking about me like I'm cheap takeout food!" "Vell, vous smell like eit." "Huh?" "Vous smell like... Hovw do I say zis....human..." "Well, of course. I AM human." "So vous are takeout." "No. As far as I'm concerned, we're all human here." "Vous is kidding me, right-?" "Huh?" "Vous just don't get zis, do vous?" Toby felt something sharp pierce his left foot, straight through a red hi-top, and pain surged through his body. He was in complete agony for five seconds... Suddenly, he was losing consciousness. Everything slowly melted away into blackness, leaving just him and his thoughts. He fought the urge to pass out, to give in, but he couldn't. His mind melted away into the nothingness, and then, there was silence. Darkness. A void. 

It was nearly dusk in the small city of Whisper. The town was mostly secluded from the rest of the world, and appeared to mainly be occupied by people from the ages of fifteen to thirty, with a few here and there above of below the age bracket. Cars full of teens were pulling out of the driveways, shops were closing, and nightclubs and bars were opening. On this night, a Tuesday, the weekly bus came into town to drop off and pick up residents. On this bus was quirky fourteen-year-old Toby Artemis Scotch. As it came to a halt, the teen stepped off into the sheltered bus stop. 
"Be careful, kid. This town is more than what you think it is." Was all the bus driver said to him, before closing the doors and driving away. He waited for the crowd of people to disperse, then sat down. 
"Okay, I have no money, no job and no home. Let's see... Home. Job. Money. Wait, food, home, job then money." The Arizonian teen was wearing baggy khakis with cargo pockets on the sides, and on his feet were red hi-tops sneakers with white trim and white laces, over wrinkly black socks. He had on a tuxedo-print T-shirt, and over that, a Minecraft Creeper hoodie that could be zipped up to hide his face. He was thin, and wore a dark brown belt with white skulls on it and a bronze clip to keep the khakis up on his slender waist. His eyes were unique. Under silver, gunmetal-framed glasses with mahogany-painted, cherry-wood arms were big pupils surrounded by a green ring around the inside of his irises, beautifully blending with the brown outer rings to create an earthen mix between the two, transitioning. He had a desert-camouflage backpack on, strapped snugly around his shoulders. All this was topped off with short, crisply-groomed blonde hair, almost a crew cut, but not quite. He had a contact that had E-mailed him a phone number to call. He pulled out his old Nokia and dialled the number. 
It rang.....it rang again.....it rang for the third time, he was about to hang up, when 
"Hello?! Toby?" The voice on the other end was male, sounding like they were twelve, but their demeanour was that of a twenty-something. 
"Uh...yeah! This is Toby Scotch. What was it? ........Adam?"
 "Yeah. What street did the bus drop you off on?" He walked down the street a bit, gently brushing past a few other people, and checked the sign.
 "Terminal Avenue."
 "Ah, okay. I'll have Toshiba Yurokawa swing by and pick you up, he lives closer, then he'll bring you over to my place. Kay? He drives a white mark IV Toyota Supra." And with that, Adam hung up. Toby waited. And waited. And waited, for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only five minutes. Then he saw the car. It was a a sleek white Toyota Supra, just like Adam had told him. It pulled up on the curb, and the right side window rolled down. There was a teen, probably 17, who appeared to be Japanese, in the right seat, which also had the steering wheel and pedals. 
"So....." Toby started, but got cut off. 
"It's a Japanese drive. You sit on the left." He had only a slight eastern accent, and his demeanour was cheery and energetic. As Toby climbed in, he looked Toshiba up and down. He was lightly built, quite slender and trim, almost to the point of being feminine. He wore black and white sandals, the soles and treads being black, and the straps and Velcro being white. He wore white shorts that ended just above his knees, and a white T-shirt with Japanese writing on it and an arrow pointing upwards towards his face. His fingers were long, slender with sharp, short fingernails painted pure white. His eyes were a snowy silver, almost catlike in the pupil shape. His hair was silver, and had two points, on at each side of the top of his face, almost like pointy little cat ears. He had bangs that hung down over the bridge of his nose slightly, in three long points, and at the back of his head, his hair flowed down the back of his neck, stopping at the base of it.
 "Tonight's curry night at Adams, I'm cooking."
 "Well, let's go!" Toby seemed to get along quite well with this Toshiba fellow. Suddenly, he heard a loud rev, and saw a deep purple TVR Sagaris pull up onto the curb behind them. Toshiba uttered a curse and put the automatic transmission into gear, pulling away from the curb.
 "Buckle up, Toby-San." 
"Uh.. Sure. But you could call me Shoe, if you want." 
"Eh, sure. Shoe-San. That has a good ring to it." As the supra pulled away from the curb, the TVR was right behind them.
 "Why are you running from them? Po-po?"
 "My ex." Toshiba explained. "Clingy and possessive, even though I've long moved on." They pulled off terminal avenue and down a side street, smashing through a pile of trash and cardboard, and drifted back onto a Main Street, the TVR going the long way and meeting up with them at the corner of Forza and Touring streets. Toshiba turned the radio on, and they both heard the beginning of The song Ready Steady Go. 
"Good taste in music, Toshi!" 
"Thanks." They swerved into an oncoming lane of traffic, into a tunnel. Toby half onto the ceiling  handle with white knuckles. When they left the tunnel, the TVR was gone. Just gone. It had disappeared without a trace.
"Now, let's get back to Adam's before she finds us again." 
So, I figured out I liked my characters from the Cobalt Academy idea, but my setting and premise/plot were sloppy, and I didn't want to deal with huge rectors and junk, so I deleted it. Some thing much better is on the way, Scotch in the City, about quirky teenager Toby Artemis Scotch, who moves to the costal city of Whisper, where nothing is quite what it seems....
So yeah. This is my serious attempt to write something, and there will likely be shout outs to friends and other deviants, (If you want a shoutout or an OC, just message me with the personality/appearance and I'll add them in. As they say, the more, the merrier!) and there will be many different genres, but eventually, I plan on it settling into the Slice Of life genre. Anyways, that's all for now. 
~Jimmy out!
Also, I'm stuck on ideas and junk, so if you had any, that'd be cool, and I'd make sure to give you credit in the soonest update post.

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:icont0xlorz:
t0xlorz Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for watching me ^ o ^
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:icontecsinom:
Tecsinom Featured By Owner May 2, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey dude, want me to make you a quick drawing or something for your b-day? :>
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:iconjimmythedawg:
jimmythedawg Featured By Owner May 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Sure, that'd be cool. What's up? Long time no see. I told my Nan, 'two years till I get my license'. The said she wasn't sure if that was good or scary.Meow :3 
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:icontecsinom:
Tecsinom Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Lol XDDDD Good luck with that haha
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:iconjimmythedawg:
jimmythedawg Featured By Owner Jun 24, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I have a rusty old Dodge van in the yard I'm gonna try and get running... It's probably not gonna be on the road though. I found the manual though, so I have a start! 
This will take much luck. XD-- And probably some tools.
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(1 Reply)
:iconjimmythedawg:
jimmythedawg Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Find me on twitter @ jimmy_dawg
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:iconjimmythedawg:
jimmythedawg Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
YAY I HAVE TWO WATCHERS!!!
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:iconnoshibeya:
noshibeya Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013
Thanks for the faves!:la:
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:iconjimmythedawg:
jimmythedawg Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
:onfire: :chainsaw:
Don't steal jason's mask!
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