Haiii, I'm Railie! :3

Fictional character – Traditional/Digital artist – Total idiot who got a pen

A character from J. V. Kepler's book Worlds Beyond the World

Account managed by J. V. K. – Art and character belong to their respective creator

What I do

What do I draw

What do I do?
"QUESTIONABLE LIFE CHOICES!!!"What do I draw?
Furries
Backgrounds
Furries and backgroundsHow?
Traditionally and digitally.Style?
Doodles, fully rendered pieces, flat-color pieces... Check my IG or FA to see for yourself! :PArt trades?
Absolutely!Commissions?
Working on it :3

Safety and Content Boundaries

Okay with:
- Nudity
- Bondage
- Shibari
- Light BDSM
- Vanilla sexNot okay with:
- Heavy gore
- Feral content
- Gore corn
- Any kind of sexual assault/abuse
- Torture
- Extreme fetishesDepends on the task:
- R34

About me

Herrow! :3My name is Railie. Railie Snipper, if you wish. And if you want the full experience, it's Railie Christine Snipper.I'm a she/her, I'm straight (mistakes were made, tho), and I love pancakes. Not that the last one is particularly relevant here, but hey, now you know.Art-related stuff:
I'm a self-taught traditional AND digital artist! Which means I'm still learning things like anatomy, shading, lighting, backgrounds, and pretty much everything else that makes art look good.
So, a little kindness towards my artistic skills would be appreciated. I'm learning, okay?! >:3Things I love:
Drawing (obviously), skating, martial arts, coffee and tea, weapons, running, music (I play the electric guitar and drums), fashion (especially techwear), breakdancing, motorcycles, reading, pancakes and burgers, my friends, parties, and, of course, s3x (just to clarify – you so-called "humans" have, like, ten times less libido than we do. Sue me.)A little about my life:
I have a degree in mechanical engineering. Yep, an actual engineering degree. I studied remotely, though, so no, I didn't spend all my time sitting in lecture halls.
I also have 10 piercings (stupid teenage me...) and 2 tattoos (one of them wasn't exactly my choice, tho).
Long story.And now? Random facts nobody asked for:
I love pancakes with ketchup. Yes, ketchup. I'm a Pancake-y Villain, muhehehe! Maple syrup or cinnamon mixed w/ sugar works, too, though.
I'm left-handed, because apparently even being normal in at least one thing was never an option for me.
Aaaand, I'm a switch-vert. Sometimes an introvert, sometimes an extrovert. Depends on my mood, the people around me, and whether I've had my coffee.
Another little hobby of mine is blacksmithing.And that's enough about me for now!There's a little more to my story than questionable life choices and pancakes with ketchup.But hey, one thing at a time, right? ;P----PS: While I'm a pretty damn good artist in the books, JVK hasn't quite reached my level yet, so be patient with the little creature who brought me to life. <3

TOS and Other Rules

Basic Rules

1. Be respectful and kind.
Treat me and everyone in the community with respect. Being an asshole isn't a personality trait. :P2. My community is strictly 18+.
If there's a reason to believe you're under 18, I may ask you to verify your age through an appropriate method. If you refuse, fail to verify your age, or are confirmed to be underage, you'll be blocked. I don't want to expose minors to content that isn't meant for them.3. No dick pics, pussy pics, or tit pics.
(Unless you're sending me a Eurasian blue tit or a cute cat. That might be okay. :P)4. Instagram is the only way to contact me.
If you want to chat with me or request anything, contact me via Instagram only! I won't respond to Discord messages unless we've explicitly agreed otherwise in private.5. Respect my boundaries.
Being friendly doesn't mean I'm comfortable with everything. Respect my boundaries, and I'll respect yours.6. Don't use my art without permission.
Don't edit or use my artwork without my permission. Always credit me when sharing anything I've explicitly allowed you to share. Unauthorized use of my art may result in a claim for compensation.7. No unsolicited sexual content.
Don't send me unsolicited sexual content, explicit images, videos, or links. If I didn't ask for it, don't send it.8. I reserve the right to block anyone.
If you make me uncomfortable or repeatedly ignore my rules, I reserve the right to block you without further explanation.9. No AI training or commercial use without permission.
My artwork may not be used for AI training, commercial purposes, or other projects without my explicit permission.10. Roleplay is roleplay.
Roleplay is fun, but don't confuse it with real-life consent or personal commitments. IC interactions don't automatically mean OOC consent. Keep fiction and reality separate, folks. :P

TOS (Terms of Service)

Will appear when commissions/adopts etc are opened.

My story

"Ahhh, you want to know a lot 'bout me, don't you? Okay then! Grab yourself some snacks, something to drink, and crawl under a comfy blanket." <3

–––– roughly 10 minutes to read ––––

I grew up in a really friggin' big city, but my family owns a farm out in the countryside, where I spent a good chunk of my time.I went to school in the city. Some girls bullied me because of my manly body. Apparently, having muscles from years of hard work on a farm was a crime against femininity. Who would've thought? :PI also got into fights with those so-called big bad boys on a regular basis. They usually got their asses kicked, and I usually ended up in the principal's office. A fair trade, if you ask me.Luckily, my parents were always supportive. Well, mostly. They weren't exactly thrilled about every single thing I did, but they never stopped being there for me when I needed them, or even when I didn't.When I turned eighteen, I joined the military. I've always loved hard work, weapons, and martial arts, so it seemed like a pretty natural choice. Right?And no, I wasn't the only girl there. There were a dozen of us. Also, the guys, those big, mean creatures, were actually pretty nice and insanely friendly, and they helped me a lot. Turns out, not everyone is an asshole.I made it through proper training, then some training missions and easy missions, until they started sending my gang and me after... well... other gangs :D
And I was good. Really good. Good enough that I was eventually offered a place in the IRU – the Immediate Response Unit.
For those of you who have no idea what that means, it's a special operations unit specializing in rapid deployment, apprehending dangerous criminals, and dealing with situations that regular law enforcement can't easily handle. Some operations also involve undercover work.Naturally, my first instinct was to grab the opportunity and leave no crumbs.
So I did.
And holy shit, did I end up in a good team.
We were damn good at our jobs. We lost only one colleague, and that was to a deadly, incurable disease.Rest easy, Radimm, I'll miss your stupidity.Over the next six years, I took part in more than 200 missions.
Holy shit, that's a lot. It looks crazy written down. Yeah, I wasn't exactly sitting around doing paperwork all day (I had people, computers and cameras for that).
And then, just when I thought I had a pretty good idea of what my life was going to look like...Everything went to shit.You see, I've always had two things going for me: an absolutely ridiculous libido (and I hate it, honestly) and a rather overactive imagination.
Being an artist helped, too.
I drew landscapes, portraits, and all sorts of other things. Some of my paintings even made it into galleries. I sold my artwork, made money, and generally had a pretty good time doing what I loved.But that wasn't the whole story.In my world, publicly distributing NSFW artwork is strictly forbidden and carries some seriously fucked-up penalties. And before you ask, no, it's not because our government has something against naked people. Well, actually, it might play a role, but it's a pubic-hair tiny role compared to the other reasons.There's a reason for those laws.
A pretty damn serious one, apparently.
But that's a story for another time.Anyway, I knew the risks.
Did that stop me?
HAHA.No.My imagination was wild, my libido was even wilder (it somehow got even higher, for fuck's sake!), and my clients were willing to pay a lot of money for the things I drew.
And when I say a lot, I mean a LOT.
I was making roughly ten times my military salary from my artwork alone.I also designed weapons. Not just ordinary stuff, either. I experimented with mechanisms, came up with new concepts, and tried selling my designs to companies.
Most of them weren't interested.
Apparently, making weapons that were too damn effective wasn't a particularly attractive business strategy when they were expensive to make and there wasn't enough demand for them.
One company actually told me something like: "There's no need for weapons this good, let alone this many."
...
I beg your fucking pardon? What about people who don't want to shoot other people, like me? Okay, that's a bad example, but private collectors were considerably more interested than those companies. Most of them just wanted something shiny and special and pretty and cool. Yeah, that made up the majority of my sales. Howeeeveeeer, some of my designs eventually found their way into actual conflicts.And, judging by the results, they worked.
Really, really well. Maybe a little too well (I ended up on the receiving end of one of my own weapons, and, dear God, was I ever so scared?!).But despite my questionable business choices, I wasn't exactly some kind of murderous maniac. I was an artist with a passion for weapons, an unhealthy amount of imagination, and a talent for making money.What could possibly go wrong?Weeeell, errrm...Remember that little secret of mine?
The NSFW artwork?
Yeah. About that.Roughly ninety percent of my work consisted of it (six percent was my actual legal job, and the rest was weapon design). I drew things that would probably make even the most imaginative minds question themselves.If all that wasn't bad enough... I sold it internationally. I knew the risks (or at least I thought I did), but the money was incredible, and the thrill of getting away with it was hard to resist. The tingling behind my ears whenever my bosses talked about Lilie – my very creative artist name, if I may say so myself – and how badly they wanted to catch her... Mmmm. Tastyyy...Over time, I became less careful.And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first really fucking stupid mistake. J-kay, maybe not the first one, but the biggest for sure.One day, I left my sketchbook unattended in a shared changing room.
For about three minutes.
That's it.
Three. Fucking. Minutes.
One of my friends, who'd always loved my SFW drawings, couldn't resist taking a look at it.
Unfortunately, it was the wrong sketchbook, and even worse, a sergeant walked in at precisely the worst possible moment. She caught my friend doing something rather... inappropriate with himself while looking at my artwork.
Yeah.
I'm not explaining that any further.The outcome was pretty much inevitable.When I returned, I was kindly greeted by twenty fully armed police officers pointing their guns at me like I was a mass murderer or something. I'll be the first to admit... I'd do the same thing if I caught myself.
And they didn't exactly relax after restraining me, gagging me and locking me in metal cuffs inside their vehicle.
Apparently, my little artistic hobby had just become a national security issue. INTERnational, to be exact.Now, to put things into perspective, distributing my artwork worldwide was considered an extremely serious crime in our society. The consequences could be comparable to those of committing mass murder. What a surprise!And considering the scale of my business, the authorities weren't exactly inclined to give me a slap on the wrist. My weapons designs didn't help my case, either. In fact, they just made the whole shitshow worse.The sentence I received is something I don't particularly enjoy talking about.
Let's just say it wasn't a fucking holiday, okay?!
And no, I don't want to discuss it.Next question.Soooo, I was trapped.
Deep underground, unable to move a single limb, see a single photon, or hear anything except my fucking trembling breath.
No light. No movement. Nothing. An endless nightmare for someone as awake and aware as me. Brrrr, I still shake from that...And then, somehow, Josh Void entered the picture.
Or, as he likes to call it, reality.
I didn't even know he existed at first. How the fuck could I have?!
I certainly didn't know what was happening to me, either.Somehow, Josh came into contact with my artwork. But he didn't see what the authorities had seen.
He saw something else.
I'm going to quote him here:
"A hidden message."
Yeah, I had absolutely no fucking clue what he was talking about.Apparently, my drawings had started containing things I'd never consciously intended to put there. Strange characters, unfamiliar symbols, numbers, and images of beings I'd never seen before.
At the time, I thought it was just my imagination doing its thing.
You know. Artists being artists.
I had no idea that something else might have been influencing my work. For literal YEARS.
Possession? Maybe.
A demon? A parasite? Some weird-ass interdimensional bacteria?
Hell if I know.
And honestly?
I don't fucking care.
Whatever it was, I just wanted it to stay out of my thoughts. I didn't need some mysterious entity developing depression because it had to share a brain with me.Anyway, Josh and his fellow Runners were pursuing beings that had somehow managed to stay beyond their reach.
And when they ran out of leads, they turned to me.
Or, more specifically, to my sketchbook.
They put a pencil in my hand and gave me a chance to draw.
And somehow, my drawings showed them where to go next.
I didn't understand why, and I still don't.
But apparently, that was enough to keep them moving.
And whatever those beings were, they weren't particularly happy about it.
Let's just say that several attempts were made to stop me from drawing any further.
Some of them nearly succeeded.
I've always been used to putting my life on the line. That's part of the job when you're an operator.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
And yet, I kept going.
Not because I understood what was happening.
Not because I knew what Josh was.
And certainly not because I had any grand plan to save reality or whatever.
I just kept drawing, because I could move, see, hear, and be! Live again!The rest is a long, complicated story involving things I still can't fully explain.
And no, I'm not telling you all of it here.
You're welcome.Eventually, things changed.I was granted an indefinite suspension of my sentence in exchange for my cooperation.
Later, after everything that happened, I received a full pardon.My work had helped Josh and the other Runners accomplish things that had previously seemed impossible. Apparently, that counted for something.
Who would've guessed that my questionable artistic hobbies would end up being useful for something other than making money?I was released.
And I was free.Well, almost.I was no longer allowed to work for any organization responsible for enforcing the law.
Considering my past, I suppose I couldn't exactly complain about that.So I returned to what I'd always loved: art.
I started creating more seriously, drawing, painting, and exploring all kinds of artistic projects. I also returned to the family farm, which my parents had offered me as a place where I could recover and rebuild my life.
They told me I could stay there as long as I needed.
Even if that meant staying forever.
They were disappointed by what I'd done, and I don't think they'll ever completely forget it.
But they forgave me.
And they never stopped being my family.I also started sharing my artwork with people outside my own reality, thanks to Josh and his colleagues.
Turns out, being an artist across multiple realities is a pretty unusual career path.
Not that I'm complaining.Oh, and there's one more thing.
After everything that happened at the end of the whole mess, whatever had been influencing my drawings was finally gone.
Completely.
I was myself again.
Or, well...
I was always me. I just didn't have some mysterious extra presence hanging around in my head anymore.
And now?
Now I draw because I want to draw.
Every idea, every character, every line.
Mine.
And honestly, that feels pretty damn good.These days, I travel a lot, create art, work on the farm whenever I feel like it, and share my life with all of you lovely weirdos on the internet.My home is still the family farm, though.
Some things never change.And as for the rest of my story?
Well, that's enough trauma dumping for one day.I've got pancakes to violate, art to make, and absolutely no desire to write another autobiography.Any questions?
Ask JVK.
I'm done talking.Railie licks ur screen and thanks for reading! :3