Personal blog and game-related nerdery.
Contains large amounts of Draenei theorycraft and geeking for the Wyrmrest Accord and Moon Guard (US) servers
I can’t lose you again.
She sighed, tracing her fingers along the grain of the table. Letters. Zimina had suggested letters. Veriinya wondered at that; if the older woman had known, and was giving Veri’s own advice back to her.
Reading was not enough to distract her; it was the work of moments to find a bit of parchment… a pen. She sat, and began to write, laying her heart bear on the paper. She would burn it, when she was done. For now… it was enough to let her troubled thoughts flow, to get her fears and hopes and desires out of her head.
She had written close to ten pages, when Buran stirred. Laying the pen down, she went to the priestess’s side, to do her duty, to protect her friend.
if I ever:
- Drop an RP
- Say ‘yes let’s RP!’ and then quit answering
- Say I’ll post an open and then don’t
- Don’t respond to your starter
It’s because I forgot.
It’s because I forgot.
NEVER FEEL BAD ABOUT REMINDING ME.
To me it’s more or less I run out of energy or have more important things to do. Mainly from RP prompts.
Strength is being able to crush a tomato.
Dexterity is being able to dodge a tomato.
Constitution is being able to eat a bad tomato.
Intelligence is knowing a tomato is a fruit.
Wisdom is knowing not to put a tomato in a fruit salad.
Charisma is being able to sell a tomato based fruit salad.
So… this is why I was quiet tonight. There’s a lot of things I like about this, a lot of things I don’t like, but it’s a sketch and a start and I like Photoshop so much more than SAI I feel like such a loser. >.>
More cleanup and work on it tomorrow; if nothing else I am delighted with how Arkturas came out.
Another, for not my art - This piece has always been an inspiration, but with current RP, I keep thinking of it for some odd reason. The artist’s caption:
In this final stage, I wanted to bring the scene to life, in terms of telling you a little more than just “two girls sitting together.” So I put a tipped over wine cup (“Oooh, I’ve drunk too much, haven’t I? Hee hee. Hic.”) and one behind the death knight, upright, because she’s still lucid enough to put her cup down straight. You can also see the size of the wine jug she’s using on the paladin to get her to relax… and that the cork is off the top, so they’re already into it. I put in the incense holder on the wall (two cones, one for each of them) so I’d have an excuse to trail some lines around the two of them, and maybe suggest the wall behind him. And I added detail to the pillows because… really, who has plain throw pillows? The death knight also gets the tail jewelry, because she’s glamorous that way. Her player is too. :D
If I were going to color this, it would be much easier to offset the detail level: the lighting would be behind the death knight, so I could shade some of that fussiness behind the paladin’s back into the dark and your eye would be drawn into a circle. Compositionally, I’m also pleased that the girl removing the armor has a straight back, while the uncertain one is leaning forward slightly, as if being drawn toward her. (Or is it the wine she’s reaching for? Hard to tell, with drunk tanks).
All in all, a lot of fun. I still blame Sam. -_-
Artist is, again, M. Hogarth!
Soooo, let’s wrap up the night:
-Lena got to box Alkrenon’s ear for throwing fruit at the fortune teller
-Lena is currently 130% draenei
-Lena is trying to get Buran laid if that’s what she wants
-buran is Barney Stinson
-maeorra has the libido of a rock, but will happily egg others on in their quests for boners
-Maeorra also makes boner jokes like a 12 year old
-Lena also asks invasive and awkward questions about The Pursuit of Boners
And poor Buran needs to find a man she can grow old with before she implodes from aching in all the wrong places.
I have some toons that could help her with that.
Ok, I like, I have one cause the boys aren’t actually… with the stories and the personalities yet, and then it’s really zero cause Buran’s straight….sooo…
*Lena pulls out the tinker toys set* “What can I make for you?”
Technically, I have some menfolk that could help in that regard too, but my men find partners even faster than my girls, so… >.>
“Are you’re all right?”
Kyssandrith Shadowthorn stood straight as a rod, her chin protruding high into the air. “I’m fine, Commander.”
Her superior let out a quiet sigh- her chair creaked as she leaned back and folded her hands together on the table. Fareya Stormbranch rarely showed emotion, but the elder kaldorei’s seemingly ageless forehead creased with unmistakeable concern.
“Are you sure?”
Kyssandrith stiffened. Her full plate armor clinked as she shifted on her feet. She kept her face perfectly still.
“I said I was fine.”
“It’s not a sign of weakness to want a couple days off, after what happened,” Fareya’s voice was quiet. “I was a wreck for months after the first time I lost a friend.”
Kyssandrith felt the tension ripple through her arms. She’d seen it happen. She’d seen it all. The satyrs had taken them by surprise. The rest of them barely escaped with their lives, but Herith- no. She cast the image from her mind. Quietly, she bent her head down toward her chest and drew in a deep breath against the sudden tightening in her chest.
“Duty never stops. No matter what happens. I am a Sentinel. I will do my duty.” After a pause, she added, “Commander.”
Fareya frowned. She tapped her thumbs together and tilted her head to the side as her silver eyes regarded Kyssandrith with a sharp, discerning stare. At last, she nodded.
“Very well. Take the dawn shift guarding the northwest entrance. But get some rest before that.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
She felt Fareya’s eyes on her the whole way out.
Introverts are observant by nature. They’re the quiet ones who prefer to sit at the sidelines and observe those around them. And no, they’re not judging people when they do this. This also doesn’t mean that introverts are wallflowers. They can talk your ear off if the topic is something they’re passionate or know a lot about. They simply don’t feel the need nor have the energy to be social butterflies.
As Susan Cain puts it, “We’re not anti-social; we’re just differently social.”
<A notice is tacked up in the Headquarters this morning>
It’s that time again, Tyrren’s Jed’hin training resumes. Anyone interested in sparring a bit with myself or any of the other Shadows, meet at the High-Ring in Nagrand tonight!
(6 pm server)
Zrimgor peers at the notice. “I suppose I will get in touch with the half-Orc boys about this…” he mumbles. “… or force my nephew and his partner to go.”
Veriinya looks at the notice and begins to laugh. “Ahh, this is apt! We were just speaking of this! I wonder if Zrimgor will go…”
She notes the place and time, beginning to whistle as she strides out into the city.
Zimina jostled her hand, balancing a pencil between two fingers and tapping it against the pad of a third.
It was getting late, and all her guests had long since gone home. She’d appreciated the company even if she couldn’t express it always. Having others around to chat and distract her, and make it feel as though she was still part of the assembly of the living, and of the real.
The canvas in front of her was still blank three quarters of an hour after she sat down. A few times she began to draw lines, but then she changed her mind and erased them.
"It’s amazing how some people become… close… when you have not really known them long. As if they fit perfectly into your life."
Rising from the chair, Zimina gave up on filling the empty canvas. She didn’t know what she wanted yet from it anyway.
Next she sat at the table, and rolled out a ball of clay, to see if the urge to sculpt something would emerge.
“I… want nothing more… than to throw myself on my knees in front of you and beg for forgiveness.”
Zimina rested her cheek against her arm, and grew a faint resentment at the clay for not somehow shaping itself by its own power. But this was just clay. All it could do was sit there. She closed her eyes, and dozed for a short stretch of the night.
The thundering of little paws and mewling woke her, reminding Zimina that she was compelled and privileged to feed the cats. Rubbing her face, she rose with a stiff body and obliged them. It wouldn’t be much longer before dawn and exhaustion tugged down on her now.
She turned her steps to the bedroom, moving past her jewelry box with a man’s gold signet ring inside.
"Then just accept his protection with the grace of a friend. No sense changing the status if he already protects you without bonds."
Only a few more strides took her to the medicine cabinet, where several colored bottles waited. Passive, yet tempting. All Zimina wanted was to sleep without dreaming. Was she selfish, with that desire? To let the night pass without being aware of any of it?
"I’m so glad you’re all right… I just wanted to give you something to help make this all a little more bearable."
The retired Auchenai squeezed her eyes shut, and felt a tear on her cheek. She was just too tired for all of this right now. In the morning, it was certain to be better. She reached into the cabinet.
You know when you’re little spoon and sleeping with someone and you wake up a little and scoot your butt and back towards them and they just so happen to be awake too and pull you in closer and you fall back asleep? Yeah. That.