Gegenji

Actually, there was two different series of Magic that had cards that would "flip" under certain circumstances. One was basically one card printed on the back of the other (used for things like werewolves and the like), and the other was split in two, with half the card on top and half the card on bottom (the ones I recall usually involved a creature "ascending" to a higher form).

Now I'm just wondering where Gran got that apple from. In all seriousness, though, I have an... odd I idea I want to set in motion, and Magitek may be the way for it to be done. I can easily just attribute the work to Cid and the Garlond Ironworks, but getting to interact with more PCs than NPCs just seems better to me.

Somewhere in Ul'dah, a suitor is turned away with the words "When pigs fly." Cut to Gran rocketing past, having hit an impromptu ramp in a staircase. The suitor has hope again.

Hmm... Merri, I might have something that I could use your assistance in, if only in passing. I have prans for the future, and Magitek may or may not be involved. If you're willing, of course.

I have yet to actually have a room or house for Chachan to decorate... but I definitely would want to appropriate a decent chunk of it into looking like a smithy. After all, he's supposed to have crafted his own equipment and would need a place to do that. Such places are few and far between in Ul'dah from what I can tell.

This thread has actually got me wondering about the second half of the Jump, now. :lol: I mean, decent points have been provided on the first part. Training, aether-boosts, a potential prerequisite rest period from the exertion that may or may not match with the cool-down timers of the actual abilities. That all makes a decent bit of sense. I'm more curious about how they actually aim for the second half - to hit that target they're seeking to jump upon. I'm assuming the ailerons on the gear help in the free-fall, allowing for some motion akin to a wing-suit. Yet, unless they're jumping ludicrously high, they might not have enough time to adjust their descent. ... Which resulted in the mental image of them effectively throwing their spears at the target without the whole "letting go" part. That would provide an accuracy akin to throwing darts (somewhat) and would be something I could see being able to be practiced. You'd have basically laid-flat archery targets and try to hit as close to the bulls-eye as possible. This could allow for some decent accuracy against smaller targets, but would equally require quite a bit of training to do - along with the ability to lead a moving target. Or maybe I'm just over-thinking it. Wouldn't be the first time. :lol:

I know someone already mentioned her for female characters... but I would think Wendee Lee would actually do a decent voice for Chachan. Mostly because of one specific character she voiced: T.K. in the first season of Digimon. It seems appropriate for a young Lalafell like him. (It's surprisingly hard to find a youtube clip of just young T.K. talking. Keep finding AMVs and such instead. So I'll just link the first episode and just tell you to skip ahead to about 9 minutes in or so.) mVmUlLfmC2w Or if that's too cutesy, there's always the option of older T.K. with Doug Erholtz. JBpG9eKKHEw Maybe something in between? I'm terrible at this sort of thing, so any other recommendations are good too. :blush:

The waiter skittered back and forth in a panicked state around the bar and kitchen, gathering drinks and trying to get the food items requested by the scary woman from the scary table of scary individuals. The most difficult part of the task? Finding who knew the strange purple porker and what such a thing might eat! It... it didn't eat people, did it? His answer came from the most unexpected of sources - or perhaps the best source, considering her apparent myriad connections both inside and outside the Quicksand - Momodi herself. She overheard the waiter pestering the rest of the staff about a baby behemoth while waiting on the order, and waved the nervous fellow over. At first, he thought he might have done something wrong - he really needed this job! - but that concern quickly faded as she clarified her expression. "Feedin' a baby behemoth?" she asked, a small grin tugging at her lips. "Fortunately, I've had plenty of experience with that thanks to an energetic little lad and his little friend. Anyroad, you let me handle feedin' that while you focus on our two-legged customers, okay?" The waiter, looking relieved to have some of the load taken off his shoulders, babbled a quick series of thank yous before going back to checking on the meats and vegetables. Momodi watched the boy run off, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Another baby behemoth, though?" she murmured. "I would've thought Gran would've been enough around here..." Across the crowded Quicksand, the aforementioned Gran's ears twitched and he looked up. For a second, he thought he had heard someone say his name. He looked around, snortling curiously.

It was a gentlemanly affair. A fair duel between man and bird.

So, when people found out there was no Grindstone today, people talked about trying to run it anyway. I offered an alternative of gentlemanly punching dodos. No one was interested in my new Thanksgiving tradition.

Separated at birth?

"For a..." the waiter repeated, looking quite put upon for being presented with such an odd question. He blinked for a second, wondering if he had heard correctly or the oppressive background noise of the Quicksand had transmuted a much more mundane question into a more bizarre one. Rather than risk a mistake, he instead questioned, albeit a bit incredulously: "Could you repeat that?" Gran's scoping out of the Quicksand from Steel Wolf's arms was somewhat hindered when an eager Miqo'te face was pressed into his. Even his snort seemed to not dissuade her, and she said something to the Roegadyn while still quite close to the piglet. What was being said didn't quite matter to him, because the baby behemoth was more interested in finding something else: food. And from that vantage point - minus the Miqo'te head right there - he had quite the angle to find something that would tickle his fancy. His little tummy rumbling again, he leaned to glance around Miko and continue his search for something tasty. With nothing quite standing out to him on that side, he tried the other. After that, he halfway clambered up the Miqo'te's head for an extra couple inches of height, glancing about through her ears and hair like a hunter in a duck stand.

Whole new meaning to the phrase "X-Potion."

More like utterly amazing, amirite?

You enjoyed every minute <_< "RPing" /airquotes

It cleaned up very nice, Merri. (Makes me wish I had my own house/room to decorate in-game. Because I don't spend gil fruitlessly enough on costumes for my little guy.)

"I'm not lyin' ta myself." Chachanji's blows fell quick and unfocused on the striking dummy, still dwelling heavily upon what Mahana Mana had been saying back in the Quicksand. Just thinking about how she had insulted his Doman heritage - one of the few who even knew of such thanks to a slip of his tongue during his first couple suns within the Jewel. Back then, it had been a pair of strangers - a Roegadyn and a Miqo'te - that had come to his aid. He had been without their help this time, and had somehow managed to overcome his nervousness when confronted by her. "It has feelin's!" he had stated, speaking of a Carbuncle that had been the target of the female Lalafell's ire. She had flippantly told its owner to dismiss it, as if it was no more than a thing. That had been what had started the argument, and led to the exchange that would set Chachan over the edge. "If'n it's made from a part'a his personality, then his feelin's are in it. So it has feelin's." "They are imitations of feelings," she had countered flatly. "Not real ones." "'n how're they any less real?" She had actually provided a few solid reasons, but Chachanji was just being childishly indignant at this point. He simply refused to let a "meanie" like Mahana be in the right about anything. "I bet ya don't think Gran ain't got no feelin's neither." "... Well, I guess they are more real than what remains of your country. However..." That lingering nervousness that had gripped him, that childish petulance that had led to this argument, all of it had quickly been replaced with anger at those words. The unfeeling manner to which she described the razing of Doma, her continued persistence that he was lying to himself about... something that she would never straight up name. It had caused something to snap within him and brought out a childish fury that he hadn't given voice to since he got into that argument with his father way back when. He decried her as a bully, a jerk, a meanie who used harsh words to hurt others for her own amusement. The fact that she didn't even seem to react or care about his immature outbursts just upset him further. Ultimately, he had cut his losses and stomped out like a child who had been sent to his room. He had used the excuse of talking Gran for his afternoon walk to get away from the frustrating Lalafell female and her entourage, and had been true to his word. He did indeed take the little baby behemoth outside the walls of Ul'dah, past the collection of ramshackle tents, and down to the riverbed for their post-run cooldown and play. Yet, Chachanji continued to replay the argument over and over in his mind, kicking angrily at the water rather than playfully splashing as he normally would. When he finally realized that splashing around in the river wasn't helping, he sullenly made his way back to the city. He trudged his way back into the Quicksand, his narrowed violet eyes actively scanning for Mahana, his childish glare daring her to still be there so that he could shout at her some more. For better or for worse, he failed to catch sight of her, and thus made his angry little march back to his room in the Hourglass with little issue. He still couldn't settle down, though, and that's how he ended up here in the Gladiator's Guild, beating up a defenseless training dummy in order to get his anger out. Again and again, his self-forged blade clanged against the dummy's motionless form, the sound merging with the other sounds of training around him. His face was scrunched, his cheeks flushed so that his freckles looked all the more prominent against his lightly tanned skin, and seemed to be desperately trying to hold back tears. "You do realize that Doma was razed by the Garleans, yes?" Of course he knew. He slapped sloppily at the training dummy some more. He was there when they refugees had come to Ul'dah seeking sanctuary, had seen his parents and his older sister along with the rest of them. Hell, he had almost gotten dragged off with them when the city turned them away at the gates. It had only been Ms. Momodi's insistence that he had been there beforehand, and as an adventurer no less, that had kept him from being shipped off to Mor Dhona like the rest. "And you no longer have anything to return to." "Doma is gone. Your family may be fine here as refugees, but it is gone." A harsh screech of metal on metal pierced the normal din of the Gladiator's Guild. Chachanji had slammed his shield against the unwitting training dummy, dragging it back off only to bring it back around and bash at it again. A few of the closer gladiators winced at the sound, moving away to resume their training where the noise would assault their ears less. She was wrong! he silently seethed. Doma still lived! As long as its people endured, as long as his family was alive, there was still a Doma - and there was still a place he could go home to. "Then you're not only stubborn, but a fool too..." "I. Am. NOT!" Each word was punctuated by another clash of either shield or blade against the stalwart form set in front of him. The others in the Guild were just glad he wasn't causing that scraping sound anymore. "I'm NOT!" "Go on, be offended. People mean little to me," she had stated calmly, with a slight shrug to her shoulders. "If you want kind, loving people, go to Gridania." Maybe he would! he thought bitterly as he cut a minor gash into the side of the dummy. He had gone there for some training in the ways of Conjury at the behest of Ms. Artemis and her friends. He had arrived in time to behold a celebration for Nophica, and enjoyed music and stories in the grass by the Botanist's Guild. Deep down, though, he knew doing that would just make her the victor - that she had succeeded in chasing out the "lowly, homeless Doman." And his childish heart just couldn't allow that. "I'm sorry again." There hadn't been even a modicum of empathy or kindness in that statement, it was merely the precursor to a backhanded comment. "That the truth is offensive to you." "She's wrong! She's wrong, she's wrong, she's WRONG!" It was a mantra to him at this point as he continued his directionless assault. He had shouted things back at her then - belittling her words, calling her a bully and a jerk once again, challenging her to hide behind her concept of "truth" again. Instead, she made as if she hadn't even been paying attention, and that had just infuriated him further. It was then he had fled, that he had made his egress that had ended up where he was now: venting bodily on a training dummy. "I'm not a fool!" Crash! "I'm NOT stubborn!" Clang! "Doma is NOT gone!" Bang! "I... I still have a home." Thud. His shield smacked dully against the dummy, followed by the young Lalafell leaning weakly into it. He stayed there for a while, motionless against the training dummy beyond an occasional shudder. If one could make it out over the sounds of the other gladiators that had long since returned to their own training, one might have heard the muffled sound of sobbing.

So, I went out and took some screens for the "Make a Magic Card" thread, and I rather liked how they turned out. I had to crop them a bit for the cards, but I wanted to show off the full screens, if that's okay. :blush: Oh, and I noticed Gran looking at Chachan a couple times while chilling in the Quicksand, so I had to take this little shot: Buddies 4evr.

I hope you don't mind me saying this like this, but If Aaron can beat T9, NO ONE ELSE HAS AN EXCUSE FOR NOT BEATING T9. What about complete and utter apathy? Can I still use that excuse?

In his... dress? Oh my, Warren, I never knew. :lol: ...welp, that'll teach me to stop posting to send texts. I'M NOT EVEN GONNA EDIT IT. THAT'S HOW I ROLL. oops my hand slipped http://i.imgur.com/rWOSaWf.jpg[/img] /fansself I think we found Kage his bride. We need a wedding planner, stat!

Gran wasn't too sure what Steel Wolf was saying, though the recognized that comforting word - "safe" - on the tail end of it. However, what he did know was that she was giving him the nicest pets and that made it all just ducky to the little behemoth. He responded to her query with a contented little snort before settling further into her arms. This had turned into quite the nice little outing, that chaos before notwithstanding, he noted from his comfortable perch. He would need to go out like this more often. The Quicksand was heavily populated this day, which was not altogether that much of a surprise. No matter the day, no matter the weather, there were those that wanted to add a bit of drink and conversation to their schedule. It was here that the juiciest rumors could be plucked ripe from the grapevine, it was here that the seeds of still more could be planted. Within these walls folks gathered to forget the cutthroat way of Ul'dahn life, and it was in these very same walls that deals were forged that could make or break a citizen's livelihood. It all mixed and melded into a murky quagmire here in the Quicksand, a microcosm of the Jewel as a whole. It, and the Hourglass to which it was attached at the hip, had served as the home for both Gran and his owner since they had first crossed paths. While it could be at times just as chaotic as the city outside - and sometimes more-so - there was a familiarity to it. And while it had been that sameness that had inspired the baby behemoth to go on his journey, it was that same feeling that made him feel comfortable once inundated with its familiar smells and sounds. And it reminded Gran of how hungry he was. Perhaps it had been his ordeals beyond the Quicksand's doors or maybe it was just about that time, but the little purple porker was primed to pursue some sustenance. His little belly growled, and his black eyes scanned the room for both master and food; for the former almost always led to the latter. Again, he was glad for the improved vantage-point of the Roegadyn's arms, giving him a much better view of his surroundings. He just needed to shift back and forth a bit in her grasp to get a good, solid look-see.

In his... dress? Oh my, Warren, I never knew. :lol:

Chachan is also frequently around the Quicksand, only away when I'm trying to plow through the MSQ for levels. He's pretty easy to spot since - now that I've unlocked Ninja - I've been having him run around the entire establishment like a dork with him baby behemoth Gran in tow. If not that, then I have him positioned so I can listen in on an RP or two that's caught my interest.

Make lots of time my sweetest Yangh, because there are two of us and only one towel. We will have to share or take turns... and that could take a looooong time. ;P Meanwhile, the Slime looks on. Forever watching. Forever. ... And he is pleased.