Art Sales

@nemodave

oh my goodness, that's simply amazing! thank youuuuuuuu~ I didn't mind the wait at all so don't worry about it. in fact, I'm the kind of person who forgets about the people she'd commissioned a week so that bio was actually a very pleasant surprise lmao. I was having a bad day today so your timing's perfect if you ask me >.>

would it be possible to divide the paragraphs into smaller sections tho? like, the bio's excellent as is now but I have an easier time reading through short paragraphs. also it would be easier for me to make some hella fancy layout for him~

again, thank you sooooo much for writing this, omg!

@MissAlavesa wow, thank you thank you thank you so much! [s]youpaid50k but wow, thank you for your generosity![/s] I hope this is alright now! (I'm glad ot made your day ouo I woke up this morning to this and nowI'mhappytoo:3) [quote=SHINJI] There are stars in his eyes: infinite and unexplored; a galaxy of dust and planets and mysteries stuffed into the spaces between. Shinji himself is no riddle-he wears his heart on his sleeve, a heart painted to the likes of tuning in on music and avoiding conversation as often as possible. He is quite the gentle creature, if not exceedingly polite, confused at times, and rather tidy to the near-verge of utter dullness. In his defense, perhaps he is yet to seek the mysteries deep within the contents of his mind, whose vastness has been clouded by the scars he'd sustained long ago-scars which only time could mend, and so he tends (obsessively) to fantasize of what could've been and what truly had been. Albeit his secluded behavior, he is-with all honesty-propelled as many are: to garner a sustaining reputation, and very much enjoys praise (of which he will pretend, is something of a surprise when given, and something of little interest when not). He was born to a world of pulsating crystals and canopies stained in the gleaming flecks of unconnected constellations. "Like billions and billions of eyes!" He once said. Or, so he assumed he had once said. Now Shinji was but a jolly young dragon when the land's mystical energies prodded at the threads of his own. It began with a harmless stir; like butterflies in his belly, and for awhile all feelings were brushed aside as he ascended to higher and higher positions within the clan; that was, until the cosmos dipped their fuchsia-stained fingers into his consciousness and yanked so hard he could almost feel his soul floating one with the universe. (He still kept it in, not one to complain.) The magic within his veins thrummed continually, but he had not quite felt anything as vivid as the day when the scouts returned with armloads of polished bronze sheets and curved copper plates. The scouts spoke of defeated enemies and victory, but Shinji only had eyes for the treasures in their claws. Oh, the way it-his magic-spiked and squirmed in a swirling storm that simply begged to be unleashed. They thought it junk, of course, and when he smuggled the precious metals and molded them into the likeness of the clock-worked creatures he'd read off old scrolls, not a soul noticed. Shinji called his "invention" a borer (like the mythical ones, he supposed). He took great liking to testing it's capabilities; the capacity of magical essence it could store and the rations and balance required for it to function smoothly. He pushed it too hard one day, though-by then, with the ethereal entity of Arcane magic swirling between both their bodies, the borer had developed somewhat of a persona-and well, it had...imploded. (Out of stress or simple annoyance; whatever the case, their beings were linked together and where the machine discharged from within, an invisible blast had sent Shinji flying, the impact a door-sized hole on the wall and a dent in his thick-boned skull.) His head injury was a rather probable explaination as to why he dreamed of the six-armed deity of the nebulae. Every night it was the same: a dark, many-limbed silhouette framed in constellations, with jagged lightning illuminating the night sky. The ground shone like the brazen polish of his borer; hummed in mechanic clicks and hisses. Convincing the clan had been particularly easy, as they were fairly small and tight-packed in their territory of uncomfortable pink rock spines. (Some stayed behind. It was for the best.) The move to the Shifting Expanse was like dry branches to a wild, dancing flame. The fervid inflamation of soul engulfed in the uncertain authenticity of blinding knife-thin bolts was a tempation that quickly caught on each and every single one of the dragons in the clan. Of all things, Shinji thought it would be a great idea to test the Lightning dragons, having lounged in their powerful auras, and so he sought out a stray dragon and offered her a deal: she could fix his destroyed borer and earn herself a secured position in the clan, or she could walk off. The borer was even more spectacular with its new finnishings-steady taloned feet and oiled arms equipped with a mighty fine drill. When Shinji touched his conciousness with the borer; his power now rawer and bolder than before, for the first time he felt the control, as if every screw and cord was a nerve that he moved without thought. (He gave her the position as promised. She became the engineer, much to his pleasure.) Of course, eventually the clan expanded with every new face that ventured into the clan's territory. The bigger they got, the more disruption: allying clans were hard to come by and oftentimes neighboring dragons would jest at their not-as-productive lifestyles. When the time came to pack up their belongings and seek a new territory, several had opted to linger. So they travelled, all that remained, and they found home in the Sunbeam Ruins, where to this day the clan prospers beneath the hopes of bright skies and starry twilights. [/quote] [/quote]

@Maike of course, thank you so much for your interest!

@nemodave

noooo, thank you! the bio is much more readable now, thank you for the edit~ like, I don't think that any amount of pixel cash could reward making that incredible mess that were the notes in his bio into a very good bio that's enjoyable to read. also my kitty who's been missing all day came back home shortly after you'd posted the edit so I'm pretty convinced that your bio's quality guided him back home lmao.

*lore voice* Shinji's actually been taking classes in "treating. yo. self" which most definitely includes spending a lot of money on getting artsy stuff for yourself. he's doing his best~ pls imagine this tiny boi being like "is this how you Make It Rain?" as he carefully tosses gems your way. all while his teacher, Mr. I Have 9 Pieces Of Art In My Bio, is like "heck yea!! you're doing great Shinji!!"..... I might have to draw that someday >.>

@MissAlevasa your cat has perfect timing then haha I'm glad he came home to you :3

@Awilixi because it's been so long, i've accidentally forgotten you were paying me in items and basically my friends chucked all their eye scars at me. That being said, would you be open to paying in treasure for Artair? (I'll still take the leg scars for Alastaire though!)

@Pecha I should be getting to your commission soon enough. Would you mind sending payment over so I can determine the length of the backstory i'll be writing up?

@nemodave please ping me if/when you open up slots <3 I've got a ton of dragons who need filled out bios and I'd happily toss money at your face!

@QueenBedhead sure thing //comeatmelol// thank you for the interest!

//my computer has all the finished files saved, but it keeps shutting down so its quite hard to fish out all the very much overdue stuff I owe all of you T^T I'll try to finish posting everything this week depending on how cooperative my compi will stay up @Pecha [s]rescued yours[/s] Sorry for the wait! If you would like anything fixed, i'd be more than happy to do so :3 [quote=REIN]If faintly, as she would grow to remember, the downpour was harsh that day, and rain mercilessly slathered the scaled bodies of a particular migrating flight of which she was born into. The claws gripped tightly as they rode the turbulence, and the walls would echo as steel brushed the root-like structure of her prison. Then, the reminisce: of confused reaching and a shriek of surprise; of spiraling, discarded as chaff in the wind.  The branches received her with motherly arms cushioned in the downy cocoon of (albeit, soaked) autumn leaves. She tumbled then, down the gnarled trunk and past the stumps and rain-slick earth; rolling in the grasp of constant, dizzying motion. [In a flash, she recalled a saying her father often repeated, one that stuck her not-quite-formed mind: horizontal velocity. Without a force to stop it, it will continue, on and on and forever.] But a force did. The shell cracked open and the tide of hushed voices tumbled in. "A child? A child?" They asked. A day, a week, sometime later. "Rein," they named her, a comical jest at her graceless tumble from within the roiling stormclouds. They were a clan of Nature origins. Dragons whom were healers; whom were servants of the trees; whom were only ever spirits of the forest. And oh, their greatest tale was of her rescue. "She fell from the sky!" They're proclaim. "None can walk unscathed by that!" And they'd proceed to how they renewed her broken bones with the seed of love, the fruit of labor, and the branched appendages from which now blossomed healthy bark and leafy foliage. Although the spirits educated the young dragon, they mostly left her to her own devices. They taught her the basics of healing, but it was truly the days wandering the labyrinth, engrossing herself into deciphering the coded whispers of the very secrets the spirits worked so hard to keep. Indeed, there was a time when she pressed them with questions and was met with no answers. But she believed it may have been their magic, residing within her bones, that the labyrinth allowed her into its locked doors. Whatever it was, in time, she learned and she grew. Rein once dreamed of becoming a nature spirit like they whom gave her care and protected all she's ever loved. The spirits perked at this and spoke of a miraculous transformation, but perhaps whatever possibility of such had been long lost. She had spent many years travelling far and wide, both in search of greater wisdom and of her fantasy. She never found the latter. Now, although touched by age, Rein has not once lost the curiosity and serenity the labyrinth--her home, one she had never truly left even when her birth clan had--continues to give her. She had never given up her quest, but she did join a clan and found herself to be an acclaimed shaman. Throughout her years of work they say: "she knows the forests like the back of her hand." But knowing is an understatement of her abilities. She is one with the forest, a spirit of it in her own way. A truth she has never really pointed out. Why? Perhaps she has become so transfixed with the labyrinth that she has become one herself. Whatever the case, Rein is a valuable asset to the clan's expeditions, acting as guide as they journeyed deep into the ancient forests. Her life surpassed many and in this, a mist seemed to cast around her, as if secrets built her almost entirely. Only one thing was for sure [sure, because this is what she will tell them]: The forest raised her when none else did. [/quote]