seen from China
seen from China

seen from Malaysia

seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from China

seen from Türkiye
seen from Belgium
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Canada
seen from Sweden

seen from Argentina
(uncommon) accessories
5/29/2019
Putting Alex through the Hero’s Journey, “The Call to Adventure” and “Meeting the Mentor” are one-in-the-same. There is no “Refusal of the Call” when it comes to the Paragon, which emphasizes the “Tests” in the “Tests, Allies, and Enemies” category. ....I have forgotten what “Approach” is, but I need to further look at the whole of the Hero’s Journey anyway, so there’s that. And just now thinking about Raed........I need to help him out, he’s kinda...in need.
@raedinthemunitorum
The scent of clean, human blood flooded the air; some damage had been done at the very least. Not that it could be followed up right now, the grenade had to be disposed of and although Khayon had kicked it although a hole in the fabric of reality, other beings threatened to spill out of said hole. A couple of small, formless Neverborn squirmed through, black and malevolent. Abaddon shot them with the talon, their existence irradicated before they could do any damage.
The scent of blood on the air had caught the Eldar Maiden’s attention – it was something she was most definitely interested in. She moved with the disgusting, preternatural grace of her species, her oval eyes regarding the wounded woman from the shadows.
The staccato sound of bolter fire echoed through the halls; their companions were not far behind them. The tinkle of Nefertari’s laugh echoed through the hall. Abaddon shuddered. If there was one thing he hated, it was that cursed bloodward of Khayon’s. He hated a lot of other things too, but right now, she ranked pretty high. The only reason he allowed her was because Khayon insisted.
“I can hear you breathing,” he said, scanning the room for the wayward woman. The promise of violence was in his voice and his footfalls were heavy on the deck. Khayon had sealed the tear now and began scanning the deck with his will, trying to find her. Unless she was a blank, he would feel her mind – likely cowering somewhere – and locate her quickly.
Abaddon honed in on the soft noises that all mortals made without realising, followed it to the source. He was not disappointed. Golden eyes met the mask of her face and he sneered. “Do you think that is going to work?” he scoffed before levelling the Talon at her face.
Ember Island- Creep
Cuando estuviste aquí antes
No podía mirarte a los ojos
Eres como un ángel
Tu piel me hace llorar
[...]
Desearía ser especial
Eres tan especial
Pero soy desagradable
Soy un bicho raro
¿Que demonios hago aquí?
No pertenezco aquí
No me importa si esto duele
Quiero tener el control
Quiero un cuerpo perfecto
[...]
Quiero que te des cuenta
Cuando no estoy cerca
Desearía ser especial...
https://youtu.be/HNFUnMWWO1s
So I just realized that I hadn't posted these sketches yet! Figured out what Raed's bootknife looks like, and was playing with the idea of a brigandine for her. Also did up her reactions to a couple in-game events. The last pic is her, sans armor and coat. She's nonplussed, to say the least.
When she was born, she didn't have a name. Just another unwanted child left to rot with the day's trash. She wished she could say they'd been furtive, desperately unhappy to part with the child even if only for the stigma of abandoment. But by all accounts her parent felt nothing about it. Casually, in broad daylight, threw away a baby and walked off to her next destination. No one saw the woman again, and it was only the bawling that got anyone to investigate. No one could afford another mouth, either. So off to the burgeoning orphanage she went, in a city where urchins were loaned out like tiny jacks-of-all-trades. The pretty ones had it easier, in a way... If they weren't adopted, they could charm people with their looks. Beauty had its own charisma, after all. But she would never be called pretty. Early on, "girl" was the nicest name she got. And rarely, at that. As she got older and tougher, "boy" became the kindest insult. Not that she thought much of it. She had more important things on her mind.