Been revisiting my fave middle skewl show.

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Been revisiting my fave middle skewl show.

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Fourier is so precious đđđ
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oC8px⌠...okay not really it's actually just http://kasodanii.tumblr.com/ 's katana swinging Caseal. 8'D IT'S A RUNNING JOKE OKAY But anyway yeah, in celebration of me miraculously clearing that stupidly hard solo Extreme Quest in PSO2 after about twenty tries so I could enter the high-level channels for us to go do dumb shit with actually GOOD raid teams and her putting up with me salting during it I dug this out of my old pencil arts and decided what the hell, why not, she deserved it. HAPPY LATE MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU LIL SHITCHILD AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR NEW NEON BLUE FANART OF YOUR BEST GIRL Go away http://ask-sethb1.tumblr.com/ your lieutenant is worst girl 8'D Anyway, enjoy!
Character Facts: Djinn, Demon, and Vengeful Ghost Edition
Little character fact things for Demersa, Sluagh Gruama, and Caseal!
Tales From Tarir
Caseal:Â âEgg Bearerâ ugh
Immal: Excuse me?
Caseal: Sounds like youâre talking about a saurian or a wurm, are you really calling this hugely important chosen one âegg bearer?â
Immal: Do you have a better title than the one the Luminate herself proposed?
Caseal: Your EggcellencyÂ
Immal: Wha-
Caseal: The Most Eggsceptional  Eggsample. The Uneggnorable. Someone who will become a Yolktale Hero. A-
Immal: Ok hold it, hold it I get the point. Have been coming up with these for the past hours?
Caseal: I am trapped in a sword, you think I have anything better to do?Â
Noor: Hey, Aisteach- about you going out of your way to help those injured Pact personnel.
Aisteach: Oh, it is interfering with our objective? Iâm-
Noor: Nah, youâre good kid. Itâs just I donât come across a lot of folks that would go out of their way like that. You have a good heart in you.
Aisteach: Noor... your hand...
Noor: Shit, sorry I probably shouldnât be prodding you in the chest like that.
Aisteach: Youâre fine. Itâs just my central circulatory pump is slightly further down my abdominal cavity.
Noor: Oh
Aisteach: And a little more to the left.... Â
Zephne: Hey! Azad! How are you holding up after being pursued half across the basin? Oh that shrug- listen, if you want to talk about anything in this whole mess Iâm here.
Azad: Thank you. Itâs this âchosen by the egg.â Itâs... a lot to take in.
Zephne: I can imagine. From what I read on Glint I can also imagine thereâs going to be a lot more about this egg that weâre going to have to âtake in.âÂ
Azad: And Iâm its âchampion.â That word...
Zephne: Not the best associations with that one
Azad: ....guess itâs less awkward than âegg bearerâ...

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You know whatâs good to write about at 1am when you have work in the morning???? Stuff about your exalted OC and their (begining) relationships with other OCs yeAH
He should turn back. This was how it started after all, Immal hurtling after Mordrem through the brush. The only sound he heard was the thrashing of vegetation as he soared past and and the tangled storm of his own thoughts This wasn't his duty. He should be back at his post. He failed. It didn't matter any more. Kahleed and Juna were dead. There was no point in this. He had an obligation, a mission ordained by the Forgotten- Didn't matter didn't matter. Failed. Dead. All his fault. Why didn't he stay with them. He had always been by their side. The most likely outcome of this would be his death. Kahleed and Juna were dead. His life was supposed to be given in service of Glint's legacy, for the future of Tyria. Not thrown away like this. The mordrem who did this would die. Just like the ones that lured him away. He was open to attack and ambush like this, flying through the jungle. Teleport back, report back to others in Tarir. Chase it down. Chase it down like it did his companions. He halted suddenly, searching desperately for any sign of the vinetooth's path through the brush. Claws marks in the moss, bark and ferns scattered in disarray, blood on the- Blood on the ground. It was red, fresh and Immal could see part of its bisected former owner partially hidden in a mass of ferns. Charr, wearing the blue and grey robes of the Priory and another victim to the vinetooth. One of their claws was outstretched, frozen in a desperate grab for a sword a short reach away that was slick with blood of a different color. So the charr had gone down leaving a scar on the mordrem. There was something peculiar about the bloodied blade. It was rather unremarkable and simple, yet utterly different in form from any other sword he had observed the members of the stranded Durmand Priory. And most disturbingly it seemed to beckon him, the light wavered unnaturally over it as if it was blinking. On a brash, impulsive whim Immal snatched it from the forest floor, if it had wounded the vinetooth once perhaps it could do so again. The Forgotten had no left him without a sense of temperature, and the pommel was usually warm, giving off an almost animal heat. And then something within it stirred, a violet miasma of eyes dripping from the cross-guard and wavering to stare up at the startled bastion. "Oh hello, you're new." "Excuse me-" "Are you? You remind me a bit of the Forgotten constructs somehow but this definitely is not the Crystal Desert. The Maguuma? Oh! Are we in the Maguuma? Hounding out some White Mantle perhaps?" His previous driving focus was momentarily shoved out of the way by curiosity. "Hold phantom- what do you know of the Forgotten?" "I ran into them a while ago. Several. Lots. Had to pass through the Crystal Desert to get to- do you ask every forsaken soul for tales of their past or am I just lucky, Gaudy?" He was going to die. He was going to die striking down the monster that took the two people dearest to him but he couldn't die without knowing what he asked next, "Why were you in the Crytal Desert?" "More questions, more question, ok do you know of a Glint? I may have needed to have a chat with her." The small, translucent cloud narrowed, as with every eye that swam within it. "Glint! Did you- did you really speak with- I should explain," Immal blurted excitedly, "I am what is known as Exalted, stewards to her legacy and-" "Hold. It." The phantom's ghostly mist shifted, twisting into gaunt mockeries of human hands that splayed upwards in a display of disapproval. "I'd kindly, ever so kindly ask to not be involved with Glint again for this time. I've played Chosen to one of her prophecies before, and I know-" the ghost continued, cutting off Immal's objection "I know her grand schemes tend to have the best in mind but I've been on enough ventures to save the world and come back to watch people fall through the cracks because it was always the next quest. And sometimes you're just not enough, so why bother? Let a girl have her unfinished business and petty vengeance instead will you please? Just- pass me off to something that can think, talk and move if you would." He supposed that could have gone more discouragingly. "I am afraid I can not make that promise, spirit," curiosity dashed against the rocks, the storm of despair and rage rolled and boiled again in his mind. "I too seek vengeance, and it is against a monster I fear I will not survive against." "It wouldn't happen to be the gangly beast that came through here and sliced up the furball? It's not too far away, actually." "How do you-" "Oh, I took a bite out of it and it has the most peculiar taste," she replied in a tone entirely too chipper. "Can't just forget a smell like that! It's actually stopped moving. Waiting. Waiting for you? I could provide a little reinforcement for you if you drag me along." Immal just noticed how the vinetooth blood was disappearing into the metal, like a jungle cat cleaning its face after a meal. "As an Exalted, I am capable of forming my own weaponry out of my own being." Immal said, tone flattening as he steeled himself to face the gruesome mordrem beast. "Unless you could provide further assistance aside from tracking it." "Oh I can do plenty aside from that, dear. I'm not at the height of my power but after this meal I can give the beast a taste of my own." At that the ghost retreated into the sword. The blade darkened and the hilt began to turn chitinous. "Necromancy, if you're interested in my specialty. Though I certainly have some skills to keep you alive, Gaudy." She paused at the nickname, "Gaudy. How rude of me, you off to face down a most hated enemy and risk mortal peril and I don't even know your name!" "Immal. Bastion of the Exalted." "Know me as Caseal." He felt the sword shudder and pulse like a heartbeat, a feeling he thought he had long since lost all recognition of. "You do plan to take its tail off first? Furball managed to aim for it properly but I hope your sword arm is faster than the last one I was in." "I can promise that, I merely hope it's enough." With a shudder the Exalted, sword and all, disappeared from the area in a blink of energy. The nervous noises of the jungle continued, punctuated and interrupted by a brief, bewildered roar of a mordrem monstrosity, before slowly continuing on, joined in my the chorus of returning birds.
There was still no sign of the Pact. The information Rata Novus had on Mordremoth had been meager, but the city's defenses could still be of some use against the Dragon. "'Sides, Priory folk ain't the type to miss out on this." The silvery-blue sylvari, Taisce, had quipped while fiddling with the consoles. "Got what the Commander needed from this mess if we didn't invite those blues in they'd likely be proper- wait, shit what did that push do? That's- well might want to stay out of that corner of the lower labs unless you're lungless like a glowfolk or have whatever Chompers has." They hadn't said anything for a long while, only moving their hands up from the console controls to tap at the grey stone embedded in a tangle of wires dug into their forehead. It was disheartening, to see that abandoning his post at Tarir lead to finding such little information on the Elder Dragon that threatened them the most. Certainly the duties of a Bastion included scouting but his task was to guard- a task he had failed in a rending shriek of metal. His apprehension at the matter was irrelevant, he had a task ordained by the stewards of Glint herself, and he would live up to their expectations. Going back to Tarir would mean no longer having to run into the demon that declared itself "Sluagh Gruama" anymore. The rancorous beast that trailed after the sylvari medic like a thundercloud of the group had greeted Immal by nearly licking his head off his shoulders and had an unnerving habit of appearing where it would be most likely to startle someone. Among the rest of the group, Taisce's bodyguard, Noor, was about as sociable as her boss, but Immal supposed the sylvari medic and jumpy charr from the Priory were a friendly sort even if the sylvari had a nearing resemblance to a mordrem guard. Then there was the actual mordrem guard. Every time Immal thought about them his mind reeled in dissonance. How many of his fellows had fought and fallen against Mordremoth's treacherous guard? It was a small group of mordrem guard after all, that lured him away from Kahleed and Juna so the vinetooth could tear them apart. And yet- how desperately they pleaded with the small expedition team. The mordrem had wandered down a path where their master's voice grew quieter and was struggling and failing to keep on it. Immal had formed his arm into a blade, some part of him unconsciously reasoning that perhaps the hungry sword he had carried with him was too grisly a fate even for the mordrem. But then the sylvari medic, Aisteach, had kneeled down beside the guard and peeled off their own diadem of wires and stone to the protest of the demon. Aisteach had carefully affixed the circlet- a contraption made to ward off outside mental influence, Immal had heard, onto the forehead of mordrem, carefully bending the metal into the warped bark even as tiny rivulets of golden sap ran down their face. Taisce, who had quietly been observing the scene had then offhandedly mentioned that the transfer and warping of the circlet would mean it required a power boost to make sure its systems restarted. And Immal had provided it. He couldn't pinpoint if it was curiosity or some kind of hope but he had provided the spark from his own essence to restart it. And it worked. By some bizarre stroke of luck the quiet in Rata Novus and the circlet had dimmed the roar of Mordremoth's voice in the guard's head down to the point where they asserted their own name. Gharach. "Could of used some of Novus for that spark," Taisce had chirped at him later. "I doubted we had the time." "Doubt it would have worked as well either." Gharach had remained with them, picking off any chak that wandered too close- in a way they were a welcome line of defense after Noor and the demon had decimated Rata Novus' reawakened security systems. Despite being bulky as the rest of the guard, they were absurdly quick too, able to alert the others of any encroachments. Their steadfastness in defending the expedition team had won some trust to be sure, and even with all the troubles the mordrem caused him, Immal remained curious about the mordrem- though what he was curious about he just couldn't quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was the same way with Gharach, as when they were not fighting chak together, the antlered mordrem tailed no too far behind the Exalted. Watching with red sclera and gold iris, a look of relief whenever Immal entered a room Gharach was lingering in. It came to no surprise that Gharach was in the console room as well when Immal brought up his need to return to Tarir. "The Pact forces should arrive soon, and the forces within your group should be sufficient in repelling any lingering chak encroachments." He said, "I fear I have left Tarir for too long without reporting in with my whereabouts and operations." "Mhm," Taisce finally muttered, "Can't tear you away you officials away from official stuff for too long. Got a big job and all, no need for you to play with us." "Yes. Well, I am certain you will have no need of me and be fine on your own-" Immal had stopped suddenly. At his words Gharach had shot up and hurried stiffly out of the console room. "Excuse me for a moment." "Mhm." Immal found the mordrem at the edge of the slopping hallway leading to the upper reaches of the ruined city. The chak corpses had been cleared from the area- either by the bodyguard's hard work or the "Sluagh's" appetite, and it appeared that the insects had decided to fall back from the abandoned city entirely. Not their absence was a bad thing, Immal thought, but their absence had left a resounding silence. "So..." Excellent way to break the silence, Mal, he thought. "Look it's just-" really smooth there, living up to the name of Exalted right there. "My apologies, if I said something that upset you. It has been a long time since I interacted with someone outside of the Exalted, I may have overstepped boundaries in ignorance." For a moment the silence settled in again, and Immal cursed himself for undoubtedly messing up again. But then Gharach turned his head, ever so slightly to the point his eye was barely seen over his ragged shoulders. From the little bit Immal could read from the mordrem's body language, Gharach looked confused. "If there's anything I can do-" Immal continued. Gharach growled to themselves before sitting down, letting their spine slide against the passage's walls. They never were one for words, only an occasionally quiet thanks after Immal would sometimes spontaneously congratulate them on a particularly showy chak kill. In all honestly though- Gharach was impressively agile, it didn't hurt to compliment what was fun to watch. "Stay," Gharach finally blurted out. "I-if you can" they continued, burring their face in their knees. Immal hovered beside the mordrem before turning his back to the wall and gracelessly fumbling into what could be considered a sitting position. He looked ridiculous, lack of legs and bits of armor still keeping him off the ground not helping. But it felt like an appropriate thing to do. Maybe. He still wasn't sure how to approach any mortal, nevermind a mordrem newly ripped from the grip of the Dragon. It seemed to have a positive effect on Gharach though, enough for them to continue in a wavering whisper. "Everyone's gone. Dragon grabbed them, can't touch you." They paused, a silence that felt like it lingered for a lot longer than actuality. "Thought you would hate me. Don't think you do but- I like you around. Wish you would stay. Would follow but the voice could-" they stopped, obviously distressed. "If you wanted to kill some more chak together I could stay a bit longer. Or do something other than kill chak- I don't think they'll be coming back for a long time. How well do you think you could repair century old asura constructs?" "Wait- n-no shouldn't force you though you can-" "They won't need me back so soon." That was probably true, unless Tarir had need of a bastion that was a failure at guarding their partners. "Besides, I'm supposed to fight against the Elder Dragons and their effects right? I'm here to help you with that if you need me." He could see Gharach out the periphery of his vision. An odd feeling suddenly struck him, how long it must have been since he had eyes, if he would have seen that movement if he did. But he could still feel. A ragged claw slipped into the shallow curved hook that made up Immal's forearm, gripping it like a rock overhanging a ravine. He unfurled his talon, hovering golden metal intermingling with armored bark. Gharach froze, as if any movement could cause their fingers to slip through. A weak laugh escaped Gharach's skeletal face. "Warm. Didn't expect that." Perhaps he should stay. He would.
I've finally done it. I have given ç´ čăăĄ(Beniimo Mochi), my female cast a makeover. Her previous look was the picture with light purple hair, and all of the others are her new looks in various outfits.
I made her taller and a bit more mature-looking, about teenager age rather than a loli, but wanted to keep the bust fairly small so she would still look cute in the youthful outfits and not have to worry about the terrible jiggle physics. I quite like how she can easily switch between girlish and tomboyish looks. Overall, she feels a lot more "me", I guess...
I have been digging the tomboyish look that the jersey gives, as well as the new cast parts I got. Casts may have cheaper voices, but their parts can be expensive... but it is fun to mix-and-match. xD
Sketchlock drew this and itâs so adorable.