Meet the Norks
Pull one from the archive.
We make no promises about its mood.
What the hell is a Nork?
Nobody knows where Norks came from.
The leading theories are a swamp, a laboratory and a misunderstanding. All three have been disproved. None of them stayed disproved.
Some mutated.
Some adapted.
Some became machines.
One is a cactus.
All of them are still Norks. We checked the noses.
Anatomy of a Nork
Field notes on a species that probably shouldn't exist.
The Ears
Excellent hearing.
Terrible listening.
Mutation
Highly unstable.
The Nose
Present in nearly every known Nork.
Purpose unknown.
The Eyes
Naturally dark.
Frequently judgmental.
The Attitude
Genetic.
Anomalies
Rare specimens. Observe quietly.
About
I had a plan.
Then came the Norks.
It started with a simple idea. Create a character. Give it a recognizable face, a little personality, and a red nose.
Easy enough.
Then I made another one. And another. Somewhere along the way, things got weird.
Some developed expensive taste. Others lost their skin. A few appear to have made terrible decisions before I even finished drawing them.
I kept going.
Every Nork is individually created and art-directed by me, Oveck. Nothing here is randomly assembled. Every face, mutation, expression, and questionable fashion choice is intentional.
What wasn’t intentional was how far this whole thing would go.
Now there are 710 of them.
And I have to live with that.
710 Norks.
Not one normal.
Same DNA. Different personalities. Some are beautiful. Some are deeply concerning. All of them belong here.
This is a fixed archive of 710 original characters, created one at a time.
No two are alike. No replacements. No additional Norks.
About the name.
Apparently, NORKS means boobs in Australia.
I found this out after naming an entire species.
Anyway, there are 710 of them now.
I think 710
is enough.
Born different.