Stupid MITTP and their stupid little server…” he whispered for no one in particular Meat loaf shirt, as he clenched his fists in anger, recently the Fanbase has been losing very important members, at least important to Djera, he loved seeing art on his feed, not that he didn’t like JP’s and everyone else’s art, but sometimes he liked seeing more than the same characters over and over again, some looked the same, to be frank. He liked seeing different OCs, different art-styles, it made him feel like a proud mod of an artist community, “they are taking them all away from us, bunch of hypocrites!”, he murmured to himself, just because he is a bit rude sometimes, doesn’t mean artists should leave! And all the rules he added were for their own good, they just can’t see past that, none of they can. It truly is hard to be a mod.
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“This is all their fault, Asp, Memez … Jonnes…”, as he spurred out the last name, he felt a strong feeling down his Meat loaf shirt , a sudden burst of a burning emotion filled him completely, “ugh, I’m so mad right now!”, he then proceeded to grab the nearest pencil, of which he used to bite to calm down. As he chewed on the pencil, his mind started to formulate the deepest and most intricate series of thoughts he had in a while, which consisted of Jonnes, the Brazilian boy he hated more than anyone else in the world, and how much harm said nefarious figure had done to him. “I hate everything about him! His irony ridden messages, his way of mocking my arguments, his soft, calming voice…”, as the last one of those thoughts bounced around his head, he realized it was somewhat off-putting, and that it didn’t quite fit in with his other inner conclusions, it made him very confused, and although he couldn’t see it, he felt that there was a blush forming all over his cheeks, and indeed, there was.