I'm not quite sure what I mean by this but if you're looking to have something written and can't get it going I guess I can figure out a way to help? This is kinda a catch-all I guess. 

Morbitian Sketches [See Below]
A sketch of a Morbitian
Restricted to Morbitian species which have development threads
Examples:

[Wild Karacel/Zootsoot De'Moneres] 

Property of Thrs.

Propriety

[Oppossom Pockitt/Graftelle De'Moneres]
Property of Vic

PRICING

@skinstealer

[Fantasy-type]

The surf washes over the fantasy types feet. "Are you sure we should have done that?" It kicks at a shell, throwing it deep into the waves. "I just can't get that out of my head, the things we did." It kneels down, washing its hands. "I just feel like my hands will never be clean again. Holding someone down like that, and a TCP at that." A large wave throws some water onto the TCPs face, the shine resembles tears. "What happens when the work we do isn't enough to keep up with our debts? Will we be on that table?"

[Flytrap-type]

There's a sharp knock on your door, you pull yourself out of your chair and walk towards the door. About halfway there, your door shakes on its hinges again and the offending knocker pounds again. You finally open the door to find a flytrap-type courier, its head is heavily pierced and it wears ripped, ratty clothes. It tosses your package at your feet and holds out a hand. "Tip?" It says plainly. You look at the TCP with disgust and slam the door, snatching up your package. You open your package and set the contents on your counter, throwing yourself in front of the television again. A few minutes later, you hear a heavy knocking again. You open the door to find graffiti sprayed all over the front of your apartment. 

[Pen-type]

Ah, the theatre. The Pen type director looks you right in the eyes at the end of your audition. You feel good, you really showed your all. The pen-type leans forward, the silence in the room is only interrupted by its ink-like fluid dripping down to the hardwood floor. "Well, to put it simply, that sucked. Next!"

[OBJ-type]

This OBJ-type just dumped a large amount of shells onto your counter. The wet sand mixed in with them goes everywhere, coating the wood of your stand. "Is this enough? I was collecting all day!" You smile and sweep the shells behind the counter and nod lightly. The OBJ type bursts into a huge smile. You fish out a necklace from under your counter, a gorgeous crystal on a delicate chain. The OBJ turns around expectantly and you gently loop the chain around its neck. It beams and dashes out of your store. You set to cleaning out all the sand it dumped all over your shop.

[Blanket-type]

You and some of your buddies rip through the fence of the abandoned hospital. It's off-limits but the stories of a cloaked ghost are too tantalizing. The four of you break through a window and climb through, flicking on your flashlights on and sweeping them around the vast ward. Beds and other medical equipment lay haphazardly across the room. Discarded IV bags and pill bottles litter the floor. You guys make your way towards the doctor's offices, rumor has it the ghosts are more active down there. Your friend comes to the first door and opens it slowly. A large fabric thing covers them, they twist and shake as the fabric makes rustling noises. You tell your friend to calm down as the sound the blanket seems to be making is, giggling. The blanket type rights itself and bowls over laughing. "You should have seen your faces!" It laughs. 

@skinstealer

[Supernova-type]

The movie theatre is run down; windows shattered and doors askew on their hinges. Everything is aged saved for a rough poster drawn up in permanent marker. It leans against the wall, soaking up dirty water at its bottom edge. It reads 'Puppet show inside!'

 You push your way through the doors and follow a series of graffiti puppets pointing towards showroom one. You set down among the other attendees, only two other people, and the lights go down. A small sock puppet appears on stage, running along. A few more follow. The first sock puppet falls, revealing a supernova-type underneath. "I'm sorry! We'll get the show running in just a moment. Just some technical difficulties."

[Origami-type]

"A fruitless endeavor! I refuse to let that capital go to waste." Your small CEO stamps its foot down on your desk, rage apparent in its shaking paper body. "I'm so mad I could draw eyebrows on my face just to communicate to you meat bags how mad I am. Do you get how mad that is!" Your CEO looks you straight in the eyes. "Move all our tenants to a new location and bulldoze the whole location. We'll start from scratch." Your boss storms out of your office, rustling in the wind as it exits its door.

[Imaginary Friend-type]

You're working in your garden one evening when suddenly your morbitian roses and tulips are trampled by unseen feet. You look around, visibly upset, yet the trampling continues. 

[Ocean-type]

The ocean type before you gently caresses the small isopod-like creature in its hands. "Are you sure you're prepared to foster one of these? They can be quite the handful." In response, the isopod dives into its holder, swimming around. "We have easier creatures to foster. There's a young muzzletrap you can foster through its adolescence, they're fairly low maintenance." You shake your head, pointing at the isopod. "If you insist." The ocean type sighs.

[Wool-type]
"Boom! Pow! Feel the burn!" The wool type on-screen punches the air, adding the words for effect. It's been exercising for the past 2 and a half hours. You were sweating along but now you just watch the tcp as it perpetually exercises, never slowing. It seems to be gaining enthusiasm as it goes, in fact. "YEAH! Feel the BURN!"

@skinstealer

[Candy-type]

The candy type strums its ukelele thoughtfully as it sits on the front of the boat. It looks out across the lake at the gleaming Hoolpa city. "You fish anything good up yet?" You shake your head no. "Good, I want to set out here a little longer." It trails its finger along the rail of the boat. "Do you ever feel like you weren't meant to be where you are now? Like somewhere there is a place you were meant to be, meant to spawn?" It looks out at the city. "I think I'm meant to be somewhere quiet, somewhere lonely. I know it sounds terrible but I don't feel right in that city anymore. The noise, the hustle, and bustle? And the light, awake so far into the night." It sighs. "It's only on nights like this that I feel peace anymore. Out in the darkness, on the boat with you." It looks you in the eyes. "So, could we do it? Find somewhere quiet? Together?"

[Hypnotism-type]

Smoke hangs heavy in the room, swirling as each complex player fidgets and shifts slightly. The lone lamp illuminating the table grants an intense weight to the gazes darting around the room. Eyes are narrowed. The snap of the cards in the dealer's deft hands rings punctuates your looks as you check the eyes of your opponents, looking for their tells. Until your eyes settle on a little hypnotism type. Its eyes are unknowable and it looks back, you almost imagine it grinning back. You stare daggers as the cards are dealt. The dealer flicks the last card towards the Hypnotism-type and the game begins. 

The dealer pulls the high card, the Mountain. You look at your hand. You have a good chance with one of your greater cards, the Pious, but the Song is unconnected to the mountain.  Your low cards, however, the Celebrity and the Chain, are only connected to the Mountain. The Beach is connected to the Pious though. You throw the Song back along with the Celebrity. The dealer shuffles each and deals you the Glutton and the Crystal. Not much better but you bet a small amount.

Each player reveals their hand, you have the top hand at the table. That is, until the Hypnotism type casually reveals its hand. A perfect flush. All the cash in the pot is pushed towards the TCP and it scoops it up, you can practically feel its smug air.

[Anatomy-type]

Your package was supposed to be here 3 days ago, the company has finally sent a courier to deliver it personally. You pace at your front door, anxious as all hell. You hear a knock and tentatively open the door. An anatomy type looks up at you, dragging your package behind it. "Here you are!" The TCP says cheerfully, almost giggling. You give them a sneer and slam the door, you rip open the package and find, not your game, but a whole raw fish. You stare at it dumbfounded as you hear laughter coming from one of your windows. You run over and throw back the curtain to find the anatomy type and a whole camera crew. "And this has been another episode of 'There's fish where there shouldn't be fish'! See you next time folks!"

[Teddy Bear-type]
The Teddy Bear type bellhop snatches your bags from you and throws them onto the cart, driving away with them before you can follow. You ask the person manning the counter where it was going with your bags. "Oh, its a little game. The bellhop hides them and you go find them. Just make sure it doesn't catch you as you run through the halls. Good luck!"

[Round-type]

You line up the strike, ready to bowl a perfect game. You look down at your ball and it looks back. You drop the round-type tcp in fright. "Dude! That was a winning bowl! Why didn't you take it?" The round type dusts itself off. "God, if I could afford actual balls maybe I'd have some business but no, let's employ all round tcps. That's a great idea! What could go wrong" You continue staring at the tcp as it goes on and on about its failing business. 

Betty's Gardening Look

@skinstealer

[Fixture]

Some of us don't question what's in the dark places. In abandoned buildings and skinny alleyways. There's not much reason for the normal sort to question like that. What point would there be? What would you do with that information? Fixture, a good friend of yours, they know what hides in those alleys and the dark places no one thinks to look, creatures which prey off the missing or the quiet. Fixture, and their six small blades, ready to take on any monster that crawls from closet, under bed, or storm drain. Fixture fights monsters.

[Flambe]

The entrance to the tunnel was Flambe's only way out. The light blinding after the darkness of the cave. They crawl out from the tunnels, horror sludge slick on the walls, the radiation penetrating deep into their fluid. Flambe finally flops out onto the sand, looking out into the vast desert. After all that crawling, how far will they have to walk now?

[Flume]

Flume wanted Ziggy's position. The mafia had few loyalties to its members and Flume had just the info to discredit her. Flume had polaroids; pictures of Ziggy skimming cash off her deliveries and keeping par of her deliveries for herself. 
Flume storms into the boss's office, throwing the polaroids onto their desk. The boss picks up the polaroid and leans forward, looking Flume in the eyespot. "Don't pretend to know what's going on in this crew." The boss spins around and gestures and the guards, who grapple with Flume, dragging them out of the room.

[Hawkins]

Hawkins dashed towards the horror vent, a look of joy on their face. Their suit keeps out all radiation as they gather samples of the oozing horror sludge and rocks from inside the vent. They fail to notice a small horror squirming its way out of the vent. It takes one look at Hawkins and mimics them in their suit, becoming a parody. Hawkins notices and claps with delight.

[Homeward]

Homeward has missed the last boat out of Luxsom. The painting in their bag seems to get heavier as the reality hits them. They can try to get the next boat that leaves in a few days but the police would notice by then that the painting is missing. Homeward ducks into an alley. It's hard doing what's right, especially when the world is against you.

@RibbonCharm

[Wendy]

Wendy watches as the Black Sugar Beauties sets up in their bar, they have the be the most popular band they've booked ever. The line at the door reaches all the way down the block, TCPs come from all over to see this motley crew. Wendy spurs on the bartenders and kitchen, getting everything prepped for the show that's going to put their bar on the map.