I'm interested, provided I have the time. I should know pretty quickly whether or not I do.
I might be dragging drawing a few people in with me.
I might be dragging drawing a few people in with me.
- Last Seen: 12 days ago
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Ghosthands,
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UltimoScorp,
The World
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9 yrs ago
Current
You did good, McGregor. Made us proud.
4
likes
9 yrs ago
No offense intended. But there's a sweet spot on the sliding scale of realism, and most of the interest checks I usually see skew too far to the realism end for me.
2
likes
9 yrs ago
Can't describe how quickly I go from excited to sad when a mecha premise turns out to be realism wankery.
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Most Recent Posts
Cyare Staunton
The little quiet one wasn't much of a talker. Four words the entire time he had been standing there, and he didn't even give his full name. Nevertheless Cyare could sense the same appraisal directed towards her that she directed towards everyone else, and it prompted her to examine him a little more closely. There did not seem to be all that much to him. No visible weapons. Physique indicated the bare minimum of athleticism. Given that his partner had selected a combat-oriented job, he must have some modicum of ability in a fight. Whatever his magic was must be the focus of his skillset.
Other than that, he did not exactly give much to go on.
Nevertheless, time was slipping by. With a small nod to Jason to acknowledge his introduction, she turned and started walking down an attached hall and gestured for the rest to follow her into the small dining area a short distance from their previous location.
"Well, if we are going to eat, best to get to it I suppose. Do you require any assistance, Ferrara?"
I think Ben and Sangue have this "brother sister" kind of vibe to them so I like their friendship a lot :D
I'm trying to draw Lauren punching a White Fang guy across the face but I'm having trouble getting the pose right. x_x
absolutely adorable
In
Persona - Academic Akrasia (Being rebooted, see new int check)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Zobozun>
You could visit the detective agency, start up that assistant job thing we talked about. The characters inside the school are currently fighting Shadows right now, while those in the city are fighting the pizza bots.
mcdonalds is stronger than your pizza bots
<Snipped quote by Krayzikk>Angel Ferrara - HOUSEWAIFU
The young chef beamed brightly, genderfluid features radiating as he pushed his hair out of golden eyes and tightened his arm around Kaia. Clearly Cyare's answer had pleased him, and he made the happiness known by aiming it at the other pair of new mages.
"I can cook whatever breakfast I wanna cook. And it'd be impolite to waste it, Cyare." Kaia's hair was ruffled as a surrogate outlet for the playfulness leftover from Angel's coy response, and he grinned even wider. "Everyone needs to eat up before a job! You need at least seven eggs to build muscle. Nine's more like it. I'm only gonna be making everyone two, so I wouldn't complaaaaaaaain!"
@Plank Sinatra @Krayzikk @HereComesTheSnow @Silvan HavenKaia Iona
Kaia made a face in mock annoyance as once again her eight-hour hairstyle was ruffled, thought was completely unable to stop the smile from spreading across it. Angel cooking, while not rare by any stretch of the imagination, was still easily one of the best things to grace... just about anywhere under the sun. They, tragically, hadn't seemed to grasp that fact yet.
"Cyare please, you can't go fighting demons hungry," Kaia chirped, "Besides," she wrapped a possessive arm around the cook, as if to protect him from the horrors of the world at large. "You don't want to hurt his feeeeelings, right?"
Cyare Staunton
"You are both excessively manipulative." The mountain native stated, albeit with a hint of resignation. Adequate nutrition really was necessary. Especially headed into a job. Her breakfast would normally be pretty large anyway, but her (defied) attempts to minimize her new compatriots' work were born from a desire to be quick than from normalcy. Not that it mattered. It seemed she would be settling in for a moderate breakfast, at the absolute smallest. She did not put it past Ferrara to increase the size when he thought no one was looking. Iona would no doubt happily be his accomplice.
As she was doing now.
Nevertheless, she wouldn't be able to leave yet anyway. Rei was nowhere to be seen, and as irritating as he was, she could not really leave without him. Which necessitated that she stay until he showed up anyway. There would be hell to pay if he made her miss the checkout deadline, however. Paying for a day that she wouldn't be staying would be truly aggravating. And rather harsh on her funds.
"I acquiesce. This once."
Cyare Staunton
@Plank Sinatra @Caasicam @Silvan Haven [@Here Comes The Snow]
"I... Suppose a small breakfast would not go amiss." The admission came with great reluctance, but Cyare spoke it aloud anyway. It would let her avoid needing to put a breakfast on her bill, and she rather suspected (from her limited observation) that this Ferrara would not take no for an answer. And whether she would admit it or not, she had not yet gotten the chance to consume breakfast. Something rather necessary if she was to perform up to her capacity on the coming job.
"Only a small one. I refuse to freeload."
In
Persona - Academic Akrasia (Being rebooted, see new int check)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Well. He had their fucking attention.
On the list of things that he thought he’d see today, a flying pizza slicing off a man’s arm wasn’t one of them. Bile rose in the back of his throat, sending cold chills shooting down his spine. The pizza bots, eerie already, had just climbed a notch on the threat scale. They were more than wrong, they were unnatural.
Anger comes from a lotta places. Righteousness. Retribution. Pain. Fear. People think fear makes you stand still, scared too shitless to move. Usually true. Fear usually makes you weak. Makes you too weak to act. But there’s a spot, a little different for everyone, where fear becomes a catalyst. When it pushes you too fucking far, and fear turns into pure, unadulterated, adrenaline-fueled action. It makes you angry instead of weak. And anger makes you act, whether it’s stupid or not. When fear becomes a matter of life or death, the strong get tougher. Some people’d call it stupid, when you’re facing down odds you can’t beat. Daisuke’s opinion on bravery and stupidity was pretty well known. But when you’re that scared, and your back’s to the fucking wall, what else are you gonna do?
He was fucking scared. Sixty plus evil fucking pizza delivery bots, and he couldn’t seem to do a goddamn thing. Nothing seemed to put them down. The pole helped, but he could only do so much damage. And there were so fucking many. He didn’t doubt, now, that there was something wrong. They shoulda just been delivery bots. Even if they’d gotten turned on by accident they’d just have tried to deliver shit. But they were evil. Actively evil. And nothing seemed to fucking stop them.
So yeah, Daisuke Miyamoto was scared.
"But bro-"
"Relax. 'Sides," He grinned. "What kinda boogeyman could take me?"
Which meant he was fucking pissed.
Face of a demon. That’s what he was looking in, but that’s not all it was. It was what Daisuke was, too. It was what he had become. When he’d gotten too sick of being pushed around, of setting that kind of example, he pushed back. Pushed back so they wouldn’t push him again. So they wouldn’t push his sister again. So they wouldn’t fucking dare bother someone. He got enough split lips doing it. Older he got, the more damage a fight’d do. Bruises, split lips, scraped knuckles. And when you were the biggest guy around the rest’d try and put you down to prove their point. You get in a lot of trouble.
”Daisuke, why do you keep doing this? You can’t keep getting in trouble.”
“... I don’t like bullies, Dad.”
But Sachiko wasn’t scared anymore. She wasn’t scared to walk to school when he was around, and she wasn’t trying to hide the money for her lunch. She wasn’t scared, because her big brother was a badass. Because she believed nothing could stop him. Her big brother was looking out for her. Made it worth it. If having the face of a demon was what it took to preserve the smile of the angel, he’d take it happily.
Split lips and all.
And you know what? That’s what these metal bastards were. Bullies. Rolling up to scare the people who came to help. Their sickly yellow eyes, the way they revved their motors, it was all to scare. And whatever piece of shit ghost, or demon, or fucking Satan himself was having a good old laugh at Daisuke. At the other delinquent kid. At Kimiko. And that would not fucking stand.
“Shouldn’t put your thumbs in your fists.”
“What?”
“Thumbs. You’ll break ‘em if they’re in your fists.” He gestured with his free hand, while he finished punching in the order with his right. She was staring, now, and he knew how it probably looked. Scrapes on his knuckles. Split lip that was still stinging. He’d lied to the boss, said he had a mishap on his bike, but she knew better. Still let him work. Now he’d drawn attention to it. He forced a wider smile, biting his lip a little to numb the twinge. Maybe he’d look less like a delinquent.
“... Thanks.”
That was one customer alienated.
He swung hard, hitting one in the side hard enough to tip it over. It was pissed, whirring loudly at him, but it couldn’t get back up. Take his victories where he could get ‘em. Daisuke whirled and attempted to plunge the pole’s ragged point through the sensors of the one trying to flank him, grimacing when it barely broke the rather rugged surface. A whack across its front wasn’t nearly as successful at knocking it over, like he had its brother.
They were bullies. Smug little rolling fuckers, and they were supposed to be scared. When he thought about it, it was almost fucking funny. If they weren’t trying to kill them all, despite not having the means to do it. How awful would that be? Killed by rogue delivery bot. Because that’s what the headlines’d be, not demons. People don’t believe that stuff. Labeled a ‘tragic failing of AI’, get some media attention, and everyone’d move on. But he’d still be the guy that got killed by a pizza delivery machine. No, no, fuck that. What would people think? How the fuck would Aloha-kun play that off? What would Kimiko think? What would S a c h i k o think? No. No way he was going down that way. He had fucking work tomorrow, and he wasn’t missing a shift. His boss’d kill him. He wasn’t going without proving he could be more than a McDs worker, either.
No.
Yellow-Eyes had another fucking thing coming. Miyamoto Daisuke despised bullies, and he had a lot of practice fighting them. Practice had had tried to step away from, forge a more respectable existence for himself. Prove he could be better than what he fought. But it was still there. Years of practice, and years of stubborn refusal to buckle. Yellow-Eyes hadn’t realized, but he soon would. Daisuke had covered it up but he still had the face of a demon. And if he wanted to win… Well, he’d have to beat Daisuke at his game.
No one had yet.
He’d have to have the tenacity, the presence, the sheer force of will to put down the eldest Miyamoto son, the brawler, the fighter, the best fucking worker McDonalds had. And he didn’t have that. If he did he wouldn’t be pussyfooting around with his little toys. And it didn’t exist, because he would never let it. Because his sister thought he was invincible. And he wasn’t going to prove her wrong.
Persona…
The bots, no, whatever was controlling them, could fucking bring it. All they wanted. The now-familiar whirring of one charging up its primary offensive weapon met his ear, and he jumped right to evade the flying disc of death. A second whir caught his attention, and a third. Different directions. He sidestepped the first preemptively, whirling to slap the other out of the air with the end of his pole. He couldn’t win this way. But he wouldn’t lose, either.
Which meant something had to give. And deep down, when he saw the card appear before him, he knew it had.
Persona…
Daisuke grabbed it without thinking, or considering why he did it. He just knew. He felt the rush of energy he usually associated with adrenaline, magnified onto another scale altogether. It filled every fiber of his being, driving him to feel as though he could conquer the world. Know that he could handle that which lay before him.
Persona.
He felt vindication in his belief, a reaffirmation of his conviction. He could fight this monster. His hand balled into a fist, crushing the card in his grasp in the process, and the feeling spiked. The card glowed intensely as though on fire, reflecting the inferno beginning to rage within his chest. His hand closed around it instinctively, as if trying to capture that intensity for himself. The space behind him flared a deep, dark blue that bathed the entire area, including the sickly yellow-glowing robots before him, with its azure hue. The yellow became islands in the sea, resisting the overwhelming presence leveled against them. Daisuke knew with the light intensifying, emanating, and crescendoing behind him, and the sheer feeling of strength contained within his limbs that it had arrived before he ever saw it. No, that he had arrived. It was alien, beyond question, but it was him. On ever level it was him, and he could feel that before he laid eyes on it. A large hand rested on his shoulders, and he looked back over his shoulder to the tall, proud and regal, its opposite hand resting on the haft of its naginata.
“Benkei.” It took its hand off his shoulder, bringing its naginata down into a ready position, one mirroring the way Daisuke held his own improvised spear. A sign, one he could understand, that it understood. That they were on the same page. “... Yeah.”
“Let’s take ‘em down together.”
On the list of things that he thought he’d see today, a flying pizza slicing off a man’s arm wasn’t one of them. Bile rose in the back of his throat, sending cold chills shooting down his spine. The pizza bots, eerie already, had just climbed a notch on the threat scale. They were more than wrong, they were unnatural.
Anger comes from a lotta places. Righteousness. Retribution. Pain. Fear. People think fear makes you stand still, scared too shitless to move. Usually true. Fear usually makes you weak. Makes you too weak to act. But there’s a spot, a little different for everyone, where fear becomes a catalyst. When it pushes you too fucking far, and fear turns into pure, unadulterated, adrenaline-fueled action. It makes you angry instead of weak. And anger makes you act, whether it’s stupid or not. When fear becomes a matter of life or death, the strong get tougher. Some people’d call it stupid, when you’re facing down odds you can’t beat. Daisuke’s opinion on bravery and stupidity was pretty well known. But when you’re that scared, and your back’s to the fucking wall, what else are you gonna do?
He was fucking scared. Sixty plus evil fucking pizza delivery bots, and he couldn’t seem to do a goddamn thing. Nothing seemed to put them down. The pole helped, but he could only do so much damage. And there were so fucking many. He didn’t doubt, now, that there was something wrong. They shoulda just been delivery bots. Even if they’d gotten turned on by accident they’d just have tried to deliver shit. But they were evil. Actively evil. And nothing seemed to fucking stop them.
So yeah, Daisuke Miyamoto was scared.
"But bro-"
"Relax. 'Sides," He grinned. "What kinda boogeyman could take me?"
Which meant he was fucking pissed.
Face of a demon. That’s what he was looking in, but that’s not all it was. It was what Daisuke was, too. It was what he had become. When he’d gotten too sick of being pushed around, of setting that kind of example, he pushed back. Pushed back so they wouldn’t push him again. So they wouldn’t push his sister again. So they wouldn’t fucking dare bother someone. He got enough split lips doing it. Older he got, the more damage a fight’d do. Bruises, split lips, scraped knuckles. And when you were the biggest guy around the rest’d try and put you down to prove their point. You get in a lot of trouble.
”Daisuke, why do you keep doing this? You can’t keep getting in trouble.”
“... I don’t like bullies, Dad.”
But Sachiko wasn’t scared anymore. She wasn’t scared to walk to school when he was around, and she wasn’t trying to hide the money for her lunch. She wasn’t scared, because her big brother was a badass. Because she believed nothing could stop him. Her big brother was looking out for her. Made it worth it. If having the face of a demon was what it took to preserve the smile of the angel, he’d take it happily.
Split lips and all.
And you know what? That’s what these metal bastards were. Bullies. Rolling up to scare the people who came to help. Their sickly yellow eyes, the way they revved their motors, it was all to scare. And whatever piece of shit ghost, or demon, or fucking Satan himself was having a good old laugh at Daisuke. At the other delinquent kid. At Kimiko. And that would not fucking stand.
“Shouldn’t put your thumbs in your fists.”
“What?”
“Thumbs. You’ll break ‘em if they’re in your fists.” He gestured with his free hand, while he finished punching in the order with his right. She was staring, now, and he knew how it probably looked. Scrapes on his knuckles. Split lip that was still stinging. He’d lied to the boss, said he had a mishap on his bike, but she knew better. Still let him work. Now he’d drawn attention to it. He forced a wider smile, biting his lip a little to numb the twinge. Maybe he’d look less like a delinquent.
“... Thanks.”
That was one customer alienated.
He swung hard, hitting one in the side hard enough to tip it over. It was pissed, whirring loudly at him, but it couldn’t get back up. Take his victories where he could get ‘em. Daisuke whirled and attempted to plunge the pole’s ragged point through the sensors of the one trying to flank him, grimacing when it barely broke the rather rugged surface. A whack across its front wasn’t nearly as successful at knocking it over, like he had its brother.
They were bullies. Smug little rolling fuckers, and they were supposed to be scared. When he thought about it, it was almost fucking funny. If they weren’t trying to kill them all, despite not having the means to do it. How awful would that be? Killed by rogue delivery bot. Because that’s what the headlines’d be, not demons. People don’t believe that stuff. Labeled a ‘tragic failing of AI’, get some media attention, and everyone’d move on. But he’d still be the guy that got killed by a pizza delivery machine. No, no, fuck that. What would people think? How the fuck would Aloha-kun play that off? What would Kimiko think? What would S a c h i k o think? No. No way he was going down that way. He had fucking work tomorrow, and he wasn’t missing a shift. His boss’d kill him. He wasn’t going without proving he could be more than a McDs worker, either.
No.
Yellow-Eyes had another fucking thing coming. Miyamoto Daisuke despised bullies, and he had a lot of practice fighting them. Practice had had tried to step away from, forge a more respectable existence for himself. Prove he could be better than what he fought. But it was still there. Years of practice, and years of stubborn refusal to buckle. Yellow-Eyes hadn’t realized, but he soon would. Daisuke had covered it up but he still had the face of a demon. And if he wanted to win… Well, he’d have to beat Daisuke at his game.
No one had yet.
He’d have to have the tenacity, the presence, the sheer force of will to put down the eldest Miyamoto son, the brawler, the fighter, the best fucking worker McDonalds had. And he didn’t have that. If he did he wouldn’t be pussyfooting around with his little toys. And it didn’t exist, because he would never let it. Because his sister thought he was invincible. And he wasn’t going to prove her wrong.
Persona…
The bots, no, whatever was controlling them, could fucking bring it. All they wanted. The now-familiar whirring of one charging up its primary offensive weapon met his ear, and he jumped right to evade the flying disc of death. A second whir caught his attention, and a third. Different directions. He sidestepped the first preemptively, whirling to slap the other out of the air with the end of his pole. He couldn’t win this way. But he wouldn’t lose, either.
Which meant something had to give. And deep down, when he saw the card appear before him, he knew it had.
Persona…
Daisuke grabbed it without thinking, or considering why he did it. He just knew. He felt the rush of energy he usually associated with adrenaline, magnified onto another scale altogether. It filled every fiber of his being, driving him to feel as though he could conquer the world. Know that he could handle that which lay before him.
Persona.
He felt vindication in his belief, a reaffirmation of his conviction. He could fight this monster. His hand balled into a fist, crushing the card in his grasp in the process, and the feeling spiked. The card glowed intensely as though on fire, reflecting the inferno beginning to rage within his chest. His hand closed around it instinctively, as if trying to capture that intensity for himself. The space behind him flared a deep, dark blue that bathed the entire area, including the sickly yellow-glowing robots before him, with its azure hue. The yellow became islands in the sea, resisting the overwhelming presence leveled against them. Daisuke knew with the light intensifying, emanating, and crescendoing behind him, and the sheer feeling of strength contained within his limbs that it had arrived before he ever saw it. No, that he had arrived. It was alien, beyond question, but it was him. On ever level it was him, and he could feel that before he laid eyes on it. A large hand rested on his shoulders, and he looked back over his shoulder to the tall, proud and regal, its opposite hand resting on the haft of its naginata.
“Benkei.” It took its hand off his shoulder, bringing its naginata down into a ready position, one mirroring the way Daisuke held his own improvised spear. A sign, one he could understand, that it understood. That they were on the same page. “... Yeah.”
“Let’s take ‘em down together.”
The creature squared up with Oswald the moment he started his charge, bracing itself to counter whatever he had to throw at it. But, when he vanished it certainly threw it for a surprise. At the last second, it turned its head just in time to the side to see Oswald swing his sword and raised its arm to take the hit. Clashing with the blackened claw gauntlet, the creature hardly budged. Its ‘feet’ digging into the ground slightly from the strength of Oswald’s attack. Breathing out a single heavy breath, as if it relished combat, the creature quietly hissed out a few words for him to hear. Face to face, it was clear what it was saying was truly important, that Oswald had to understand.
”Heed our words, heretic. In Death we are One. In Death we are Whole. You shall make us Whole, again!”
i uh
for once completely agree with what oswald is saying in character
what the fuck?
I mean, either that's a talking Grimm
The people fighting it are stupid enough to think a human or Faunus (the only other sapient species we know of) dressed up like a Grimm is a Grimm
Or there's a brand new sapient species that can be mistaken for a Grimm.
I'm not sure what would be worst
In
Persona - Academic Akrasia (Being rebooted, see new int check)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
His part of town?
His part of tow-
No, no, focus. Evil pizza delivery robots. And they were evil. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that made him so sure, but Daisuke figured his gut instinct had to be worth something. They just felt wrong, in every way possible. And since his brain didn't have any better theories, gut instinct it was. But seriously. What was that dumbass doing? Gonna punch them? The big, four foot tall, yellow-eyed, demonic looking metal fuckers?
Christ, at least grab a fucking brick or something. Debris everywhere, and he wants to use his hands. Daisuke snorted to himself, swinging the pole down from his shoulders and into a readier position, swiping the air experimentally and advancing on the evil robot legion. The latter involved moving left, interposing himself vaguely between Kimiko and the enemies and making the left flank more accessible to him. He swung again, metal swishing through the air in answer to their growling threat.
Noooo, no, no, no.
This was his route to McDonalds.
Evil pizza robots had no place here.
"Alright, ya pieces of shit! Fucking bring it!"
His part of tow-
No, no, focus. Evil pizza delivery robots. And they were evil. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that made him so sure, but Daisuke figured his gut instinct had to be worth something. They just felt wrong, in every way possible. And since his brain didn't have any better theories, gut instinct it was. But seriously. What was that dumbass doing? Gonna punch them? The big, four foot tall, yellow-eyed, demonic looking metal fuckers?
Christ, at least grab a fucking brick or something. Debris everywhere, and he wants to use his hands. Daisuke snorted to himself, swinging the pole down from his shoulders and into a readier position, swiping the air experimentally and advancing on the evil robot legion. The latter involved moving left, interposing himself vaguely between Kimiko and the enemies and making the left flank more accessible to him. He swung again, metal swishing through the air in answer to their growling threat.
Noooo, no, no, no.
This was his route to McDonalds.
Evil pizza robots had no place here.
"Alright, ya pieces of shit! Fucking bring it!"
<Snipped quote by Prince of Seraphs>
The whole point of Angel is that the good guys never really win for long.
I actually love it for this reason. Because instead of being fatalistic about it, the inability of good to win forever just means that it's always a fight worth fighting.
It's why I loved Season 2's "Epiphany".
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