It's That Time Once MoreHello all!
Concerning my last journal post, I've been having quite the difficult time on resolution numero dos--that being to doodle at least once per day to sharpen skills and heighten activity on this page. Sadly, it seems that I've lacked, err, "proper" inspiration as I have completely seem to have lost motivation to draw or doodle in the slightest. And anything I currently produce is not up to par with my earlier works.
However, there seems to be more to it.
For those who may not have known, (pertaining to no one at all haha.) you can safely assume that I mainly draw anime. While this certainly is true, I also have a knack into drawing realism and appear to handle it much better than anime. However, I also seem to have a whacky pattern concerning the two...once I feel that I am "sucking" at one of the two styles, it's a red flag indicating that I should focus on the other and thus I draw the other awfully well (In my case) and vice versa.
As odd as that may sound, this is exactly w
Edge - 8More Like This
“Absurd.” Pyon stated stiffly, and he advanced towards the block where the chairman disappeared through.
Marine expected such, and merely let her plan unfold before her. “Don’t make me drag you there myself!”
“Doubtful. You do not know its whereabouts.”
Marine slapped her forehead. “Where in the world did you learn SARCASM I can’t even deal with your right now!!! Listen mister grumpy: last time I heard you and I were and are currently now being dissed by a bunch of furries!! Do you SERIOUSLY want to trust them again!?”
Pyon stopped midway in his tracks. Not that he actually knew what the hell the definition to “dissed” was, but…
If there was anything his friend of blue had taught him; this would be it.
The greatness of trust. The reasoning behind a bigger picture. The surmounted use of free will in order to do what was right—despite duty and what is written. At the very end, when he believed his life h
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It wasn’t until much later that Melan and Erin would actually give a report to the situation at hand. Melan felt obligated to wait until the entire gang of the nagaya had arrived back home (or taken away from the railways in the case of Tadashi. Not that he had a care for the world since he was so drunk he was totally knocked out. Again.) in order to set records straight and causing less conflict than need be.
This meant waiting for hours and it practically tore Marin to shreds because of the boiling frustration and envy clawing out. She yelled way too much today than expected so in order to calm herself, she quarantined in a corner sitting next to Moe as far away from Melan an Erin as possible—despite residing in the same room.
Melan seemingly didn't seem to mind at all, since he was conversing with Erin the entire time. Shockingly though, both communicated in a foreign language no person on earth understood. Intentionally, or unintentionally, Marin didn't care that she ha
Edge-6More Like This
Melan landed with a soft thump in front of the nagaya gazing down on the ampoule. What began with a great morning seemed to carry on and possibly end with somber results.
Unless…he found the will to smash the bottle this very instant, but his honor and pride as a Gunswordsman compelled him not to. No being, good or bad, deserved an unwarranted end. Not even a common enemy.
For now he dropped the ampoule within the gap of his right leg-guard which served as the only closest incarnation of a pocket. Melan uttered a sigh upon the arrival of a new duty he would have to keep.
For a moment he briefly flashed upon the last words a fellow gunswordsman, Pyon, had said to him. “Our mission is now accomplished my brother.”
For the first time since he stayed on Earth, he found himself deeply missing his comrades Erin Garnet and Pyon Silver. He and the two were always supportive of each other and the given task at hand. Even as he was deemed a traitor by them both th
TrinitySummary: Oh yes it was made quite clear that the trio of Gunswordsman have the strongest of ties.More Like This
But how exactly did those ties come to be forged?
A bombardment of attacks finally came to an end, and young Melan Blue fell to the ground thankfully. Thank god for the cease-fire…if it had gone any longer then he would’ve been done for.
“I faltered earlier than usual.” He thought to himself. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Hey you!” a voice rang.
Melan raised his head weakly to the source of the voice’s speaker, and with a grunt he hefted his stubs (that were to grow to be his weapons eventually) that were built on each arm to lift himself off the ground. He stumbled a bit, and limped to a crowd of others.
“So you’re not dead.” Replied a purple monomakia listlessly. “Lucky for you.”
Melan’s eyes me the gaze of about twenty others that surrounded a massive boulder. They were all just like him