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Artwork (Digital) / Macro / Micro
Species Mouse
Size 1199 x 1280
File Size 2.52 MB
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Maxine has an assortment of unwilling participants she keeps locked away in her home as test subjects – expendable variables in her many scientific endeavors.
Said test subjects come in a few pint-sized flavors: intellectual inferiors who scorned her genius; research directors who found themselves promoted to guinea pig after snubbing her for cheaper, second-rate engineers; former co-workers doomed to play ‘dodge my feet’ as punishment for nearly stepping on her; a certain pair of imbecilic roommates imprisoned by the murine monster they created.
Stuffing them all in a cardboard box and grabbing a screaming fistful of them out at a time for a rousing game of ‘applied physics’ was fine at first. However, their crude container was inefficient. They kept chomping out holes and running away, and Maxine had to crush the escapees like ants.
But that’s unfair to ants. Ants are organized, efficient, a far more complex creature than people give them credit for. Ants aren’t blinded by the arrogance of stature. Ants don’t plead at her with pointless lip flapping. Ants don’t get drunk then bully and beat her until she cries, break her things, and ruin her life. Ants don’t scream when she steps on them. Or maybe they do. She’ll have to shrink her captives even smaller to see which of them is louder.
Maxine erected an enclosed environment for her miniaturized victims in her spare bedroom; a sprawling locale reminiscent of their very hometown, but on a far smaller scale. Their intricate prison simulates day and darkness. Seasons. Warmth and cold. Even the very weather itself – clouds and wind, storms and snow and rain – is at her command, controlled by the five inch mouse as though she was a god.
To Cora and Gina, pitiful specks cowering in the shade of inch high ‘skyscrapers’ bending like grass in the breeze at the approaching swell of cataclysmic earthquakes, the boom-thud-boom-thud of leisurely footfalls belonging to the familiar rodent swallowing the world in her shadow, Maxine virtually is a god. Soaring to the ceiling is the genius herself. She grins when her mad eyes flick down and spot the terrible two. Their little world shudders as her leg rises above the replicated sky, displacing clouds while lifting her foot high above them. And then the air howls. Sole descends, darkness hungers, racing for trembling cat and skink.
It’s time for more experiments.
Art by
jazzumi
Maxine, Cora, and Gina belong to me.
Said test subjects come in a few pint-sized flavors: intellectual inferiors who scorned her genius; research directors who found themselves promoted to guinea pig after snubbing her for cheaper, second-rate engineers; former co-workers doomed to play ‘dodge my feet’ as punishment for nearly stepping on her; a certain pair of imbecilic roommates imprisoned by the murine monster they created.
Stuffing them all in a cardboard box and grabbing a screaming fistful of them out at a time for a rousing game of ‘applied physics’ was fine at first. However, their crude container was inefficient. They kept chomping out holes and running away, and Maxine had to crush the escapees like ants.
But that’s unfair to ants. Ants are organized, efficient, a far more complex creature than people give them credit for. Ants aren’t blinded by the arrogance of stature. Ants don’t plead at her with pointless lip flapping. Ants don’t get drunk then bully and beat her until she cries, break her things, and ruin her life. Ants don’t scream when she steps on them. Or maybe they do. She’ll have to shrink her captives even smaller to see which of them is louder.
Maxine erected an enclosed environment for her miniaturized victims in her spare bedroom; a sprawling locale reminiscent of their very hometown, but on a far smaller scale. Their intricate prison simulates day and darkness. Seasons. Warmth and cold. Even the very weather itself – clouds and wind, storms and snow and rain – is at her command, controlled by the five inch mouse as though she was a god.
To Cora and Gina, pitiful specks cowering in the shade of inch high ‘skyscrapers’ bending like grass in the breeze at the approaching swell of cataclysmic earthquakes, the boom-thud-boom-thud of leisurely footfalls belonging to the familiar rodent swallowing the world in her shadow, Maxine virtually is a god. Soaring to the ceiling is the genius herself. She grins when her mad eyes flick down and spot the terrible two. Their little world shudders as her leg rises above the replicated sky, displacing clouds while lifting her foot high above them. And then the air howls. Sole descends, darkness hungers, racing for trembling cat and skink.
It’s time for more experiments.
Art by
jazzumiMaxine, Cora, and Gina belong to me.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Macro / Micro
Species Mouse
Size 1199 x 1280px
File Size 2.52 MB
Listed in Folders
It's cool to finally see Cora and Gina, the ones responsible for turning the responsible and good hearted mouse genius Maxine into the mad and unhinged scientist that she is now, in an artwork. I love anthros like Maxine who are a species that's small and weak in real life being the "big" and dominant one!
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