dragonkid11
A random creator
[X] IGGY NEEDS HUGS!
-[X] IGGY GETS HUGS!
-[X] IGGY GETS HUGS!
Terrene Spire - Gently ended.
- Thread starter Dexexe1234
- Start date
- Original Art Quest
- Location
- The Frozen North
[X] IGGY NEEDS HUGS!
-[X] IGGY GETS HUGS!
Yay! More Spire of the Terrene variety!
Huh, I had assumed that Iggy was just short for Igrieibrus, but it looks like it might have been his original name instead. Also, in Igrieibrus' "..." speech panel, his name flickers between "Iggy Klog" and "Igrieibrus". Interesting! Perhaps he starts losing control of the HUD when he's upset? Or maybe he's just remembering the good ol' days when his name was Iggy. Either way, it's a cool detail!
-[X] IGGY GETS HUGS!
Yay! More Spire of the Terrene variety!
Huh, I had assumed that Iggy was just short for Igrieibrus, but it looks like it might have been his original name instead. Also, in Igrieibrus' "..." speech panel, his name flickers between "Iggy Klog" and "Igrieibrus". Interesting! Perhaps he starts losing control of the HUD when he's upset? Or maybe he's just remembering the good ol' days when his name was Iggy. Either way, it's a cool detail!
[x] -->
PostwarGryphon
Traveller of Planes
- Location
- Australia
[X] Confused fits with me, however I somehow doubt the helpdesk will be a greater help on that front then a freaking tutorial
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
Also, welcome back!
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
Also, welcome back!
cthulhu fartagn
Cthulhu in a suit. Bowties are cool.
- Location
- The East Coast of America.
Well, I can see someone reacted to me tinkering with my patreon, so this surprise is a bit shot into the floor but hrrHMM!!
Everyone! I retooled my patreon page and it's tiers, making it a lot more streamlined and understandable, for both you and me! I hope you enjoy the new art I made for it, and continue to have an excellent day! If you want to check out the stuff I have done on it, please click on the big button below!
Don't worry, it's non-committing! You can cancel at any time, and heck you can even set how much money it pulls every month, meaning if you support multiple people on patreon, it will still only pull the amount you have set it to pull! Please, have a look around and see what goodies can come to you if you help me survive just a bit easier!
...Though to be honest there isn't much yet to look at, I swear that I am working on some background stuff to put in there! So stay tuned my friends and thank you all again a MILLION times for reading Terrene Spire!
I hope you all have a great day!
I remember something about an explosion elemental. Is that something you already drew, or can I use my Chatterimp privileges to get a drawing of it?
Welp, here's ma entry. Title though...Ehhhhhh...
Feedback welcome. First time I really tried a piece like this.
"Inclinations"
Today marked the three thousandth six hundredth and fifty second day. It would be precisely that in three hours, twenty seven minutes, and forty two seconds, if you were inclined to keep a count of such things.
If one were inclined to keep count of such things, it also marked the one thousandth eight hundredth and twenty ninth day since she fell.
It would also mark the six hundredth and fifty second day since the last ghost had been revived at this location. That ghost would have been the seven hundredth and seventy sixth to die after leaving and encountering the greater crucible of the red faction. They were orange, as were the previous seven hundred and seventy five, and as all of Citrech did, they had a particular zest for life.
You would know these things if, of course, you were inclined to keep a count of such things.
Burgundy was not inclined to.
He did it anyway. It kept him focused. It kept certain thoughts at bay.
He could leave of course.
He wouldn't.
Though nothing bound him to this place in flesh, he made a promise. It was a last request of a close friend.
She probably would want him to stop.
She would want him to go out and see things.
She would want him to go out and meet people.
He wouldn't though.
He was the only one left who would remember her as she was.
He owed her that much, for what she did for him.
He owed her a lot more.
Which was why he was in this cave counting. Seconds presently, of which he had eleven thousand two hundred and forty seven left before the anniversary date was exact.
There wasn't a point to any of this, not really.
Even if the damn thing was still functional, it had been long enough that if any would revive, they would find an at best ruined fortress, and maybe the odd class crystal if they were lucky. If pattern held, they'd find a pair of rotary swords in the chest.
Several.
Until they could not hold, and they fell.
And then he'd do his duty and put them to rest.
No more chestnuts and stardust.
No more rustling sands and running water.
For those who fell, nothing would matter anymore.
And he'd sob again, but not really feel it.
It was something his body did.
Not him.
Thirteen seconds.
Ten.
Five.
Two.
One.
It begins to glow, and Burgundy's heart falls out of his chest.
One day, probably soon, he would need to draw his scythe-a sharp, cold wine colored blade- and cut them down.
The seven hundredth and seventy seventh eishalon would die in this room.
If one were inclined to keep count of such things.
But he was so tired of it.
And he didn't want to do it anymore.
He'd try, because she asked him to.
He'd carry on until he could not.
Because unlike counting, that was his inclination.
Feedback welcome. First time I really tried a piece like this.
"Inclinations"
Today marked the three thousandth six hundredth and fifty second day. It would be precisely that in three hours, twenty seven minutes, and forty two seconds, if you were inclined to keep a count of such things.
If one were inclined to keep count of such things, it also marked the one thousandth eight hundredth and twenty ninth day since she fell.
It would also mark the six hundredth and fifty second day since the last ghost had been revived at this location. That ghost would have been the seven hundredth and seventy sixth to die after leaving and encountering the greater crucible of the red faction. They were orange, as were the previous seven hundred and seventy five, and as all of Citrech did, they had a particular zest for life.
You would know these things if, of course, you were inclined to keep a count of such things.
Burgundy was not inclined to.
He did it anyway. It kept him focused. It kept certain thoughts at bay.
He could leave of course.
He wouldn't.
Though nothing bound him to this place in flesh, he made a promise. It was a last request of a close friend.
She probably would want him to stop.
She would want him to go out and see things.
She would want him to go out and meet people.
He wouldn't though.
He was the only one left who would remember her as she was.
He owed her that much, for what she did for him.
He owed her a lot more.
Which was why he was in this cave counting. Seconds presently, of which he had eleven thousand two hundred and forty seven left before the anniversary date was exact.
There wasn't a point to any of this, not really.
Even if the damn thing was still functional, it had been long enough that if any would revive, they would find an at best ruined fortress, and maybe the odd class crystal if they were lucky. If pattern held, they'd find a pair of rotary swords in the chest.
Several.
Until they could not hold, and they fell.
And then he'd do his duty and put them to rest.
No more chestnuts and stardust.
No more rustling sands and running water.
For those who fell, nothing would matter anymore.
And he'd sob again, but not really feel it.
It was something his body did.
Not him.
Thirteen seconds.
Ten.
Five.
Two.
One.
It begins to glow, and Burgundy's heart falls out of his chest.
One day, probably soon, he would need to draw his scythe-a sharp, cold wine colored blade- and cut them down.
The seven hundredth and seventy seventh eishalon would die in this room.
If one were inclined to keep count of such things.
But he was so tired of it.
And he didn't want to do it anymore.
He'd try, because she asked him to.
He'd carry on until he could not.
Because unlike counting, that was his inclination.
Last edited:
FluffyCloudSheep
Soft and Comfy
- Location
- Up in the Air
The Orange Leader has such an adorable look on his face when Iggy introduces himself.
[X] Helpdesk?
ps. First time voting here.
[X] Helpdesk?
ps. First time voting here.
Slith10
Back from the dead and ready to party!
- Location
- New Zealand
[X] Confused fits with me, however I somehow doubt the helpdesk will be a greater help on that front then a freaking tutorial
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
I'm back. A lot of things happened, but it should be good for now.
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
I'm back. A lot of things happened, but it should be good for now.
Radek
Promethean
- Location
- A Cryptum, somewhere
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Points of interest:
- the Orange Faction was led by an Ordgrown, yet the bunch we met was expecting to be struck down where they stood. Seems like fifteen years have induced some major changes to this area -or is there something more involved?
- Daevas have allegiances, and age. Why would they owe fealthy to one specific group over others, and how does a decidedly undead thing age?
- the Orange Faction was led by an Ordgrown, yet the bunch we met was expecting to be struck down where they stood. Seems like fifteen years have induced some major changes to this area -or is there something more involved?
- Daevas have allegiances, and age. Why would they owe fealthy to one specific group over others, and how does a decidedly undead thing age?
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
I don't think Klog is/was an Ordgrown personally.
Archeo Lumiere
The Prince's Archivist
- Location
- Lumiose City, Kalos
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
He has a possession "sphere," so I think he's a ghost.
Radek
Promethean
- Location
- A Cryptum, somewhere
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
He does? I missed that. A rather strange shell to possess, or maybe our inexperience is colouring our thoughts.
- Location
- The Frozen North
Ahahahaha
I love it!
reydrago
is it just me or updates are kinda slow lately?
- Location
- in an alternate dimension
[X] Confused fits with me, however I somehow doubt the helpdesk will be a greater help on that front then a freaking tutorial
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
something must have happened to the orange faction, and Daeva is witnessing them somehow
-[X] Do we even have a helpdesk here? I mean there are only the two of us here right?
-[X] Keep on watching the video
something must have happened to the orange faction, and Daeva is witnessing them somehow
Radek
Promethean
- Location
- A Cryptum, somewhere
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
We already know what happened to Orange Faction: the others killed them all. How something-that-is-not-quite-a-ghost ended up bearing their colours after fifteen years of silence is still a mystery.
- Pronouns
- Exist
...I think Daeva's the girl in the tutorial section.
Archeo Lumiere
The Prince's Archivist
- Location
- Lumiose City, Kalos
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
I don't think either of them are girls. Daeva's the one in the shades though
COuld be that we're like Davea. A Statstral Daeva ourselves.
I mean, he hasn't actually answered the question just yet, but it'd fit, based on the evidence we actually have.
I mean, he hasn't actually answered the question just yet, but it'd fit, based on the evidence we actually have.
Archeo Lumiere
The Prince's Archivist
- Location
- Lumiose City, Kalos
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them