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Lunar's Art

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So I decided hey, why not, right? I like drawing, there's of course an art like thread here, so it works.

Basically I take off from the anime style but I'd love to learn other ones. Realism is something I'm looking forward to learning next year when I'll FINALLY have the option. I'm self-taught and have been for um... around 3 years now. No, I haven't been seriously drawing since way back when but I started drawing in late 6th-7th grade and that was all during a rather rough period of time for me. I believe art saved me, even though much of it was morbid ( >->; ). I got to vent, and get rid of allll the negative emotions I was feeling.

Now, though obviously my life isn't sugar and cupcakes (though I could use one) I've been doing good, have a good number of friends that I like hanging with, two best friends I trust my life with, and a weird British alter-ego who likes to make my life crazy but usually helps. .... Usually...

ANYWAY. If you want to request you can, HOWEVER I am without a scanner so I'll either do the request on the comp or draw it, take a pic, and do major touch ups on the comp. That's what I did with the Chris picture you see below.
So, here we go.

- Barkule Race (continuous)

- The Blue Rebellion (colab with Ross)
- DN Storyline (colab with Ross)
- Whatever the heck else I write XD
- The Phil/Lunar/Guardian/not really Metroid story (colab with Phil. This story is weird, and yet makes total sense.. ._.)


Chris Sky- That British man with blue hair.
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Lunar, Guardian of Light, Keeper of the Gates, and Caretaker of the Dream Realm
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Lunar (not me) is a Celestial Wolf. He and his brother Wolfasaur are the two Guardians who were appointed by The Almighty to watch over all the different dimensions of time, space, and dreams. The story of Lunar and the Guardians interwine with the DN storyline even though Ross and Phil have never been able to talk or communicate with each other. One of these days we'll probably hook up on three way calling though XD

InfInItE- Dream Protector
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InfInItE, or Finnis as 'he' is called to those who see him as being masculine (like Chris does in the DN storyline) is a Dream Protector. Now before anyone says anything YES NiGHTS and certain aspects of Trippy's storyline and view of dreams has influenced me. However, you'll find things different and none of it has any real relation with either afore mentioned subject. Now then. Dream Protectors are androgynous, as in they have no defining parts of a gender but can look like more of one whenever they choose/how the Client sees them. 'Ninja' Chris sees him as more masculine so he is since Chris is his Client. DP's work with drEAm Hounds (you'll see a pic of one of them next) to fight and kill nIghtmArE Demons. Lunar is at the pinnacle of the whole thing, but you rarely see him or hear of him in the story or pics.

drEAm Hound-
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Usually they look quite calm, peaceful, and actually if your lucky enough to see them in your dreams (when they aren't hunting a nIghtmArE) are quite playful =D And as you see, no real mouth to speak off. But when they're hunting... Well... Later pics shall reveal.

Still Just Waiting...
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Yes. I will readily admit that the lyrics in the background and whole inspiration for this picture was Digi's 'Another Night ~ the Waiting' This, and the above pic, were done uh... during school XD;; I didn't have pencils, but did have super fine tipped sharpies. So, therefore, I used the characters respective colors. Who's Chris waiting for? Well, if you wanna know, I guess you'll have to wait for more pics or story bits. =D

(older style) Ninja Chris
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Not much has REALLY changed as far as appearance except his hair is how the first picture shows it. Yes, he does in fact have white skin. His whole clan does. They're also all 'blind' but that's for another time.

{drEAmIng rEAlItY}
Dreaming of reality
Of chaotic fatality
Where mortals lie sleeping
The Protectors watch keeping

The darkness falls faster
Now hail this disaster
Dreamscapes are broken
In panic awoken

The phantoms of fear
They creep and they hear
They feed on our screaming
Our cries for redeeming

Oh where are the creatures of dreaming light
Who now can come hastily to aid us this night?
Of jesters, of beasts, of people, they appear
To us now they fly for our cries they can hear

Be gone all ye cursed creatures of dread
Light shineth through and darkness has fled
Imagination it seems was the key to this lock
Let open the doors so ideas may flock

So now when you sleep
Your dreams they shall keep
Your friend and your guide
On wings of light shall you ride


Annnnd, I'm done XD; Oh. Yeah. I dabble in writing. As far poems go, I prefer them to rhyme. I enjoy the theory of Rhyme and Rhythm greatly.



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This is all a bit to 'dark' for me. But it is still very nice and interesting. Great job.




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Dark as in lighting or dark as in morbid? Cause if it's morbid, then you'll be surprised to find out that the story consist of quite a bit of humor. Heck. Finnis himself is about as serious as a paper cut. If it's the lighting, then again, no scanner. =/ Not much I can do on that end at the moment.

But all that aside, thanks much. Comments appreciated.




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So there's this big long story that goes Sarku and I'm uber lazy so copy and paste I shall! This has to go with my Blue Jackal (Barkule) project.

Sarku wallpaper
The pic is big, it being made for my wallpaper, and I don't want to stretch the frames here.


Sarku = Not really a god.

He's the last of a very, very, very old species of desert gryphon, basically. He's been around a loooooonngggg time. You have to remember, he's way older then the Barkule race, and the Barkule are pretty old. He taught the Barkule his language, which has now become known as Barkulian, or just Barkule. He actually named them, taught them, and all but created them. They're ancestors evolved, yes. But it was Sarku who taught them reason, honor, etc., and etc. He's very powerful, very wise, and very, very old.

Hence why I call him a Guardian, and not a god.

What you see there is how he usually appears to his people; a thick and large sand twister and just his eyes are seen clearly. Song from the is Plagues from The Prince of Egypt.




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If you haven't guessed yet the Barkule is my biggest project and something I focus on a lot my time on. Thankfully I have two people helping me at the moment a bit. A friend of mine named Seraph (well Scott) helps out with the culture and another friend, Crow, (Marcel from Germany, go figure) has been dragged in to help with making the language after he's shown great interest in it XD
So here's what we have of the Barkule Language so far:

Pronunciations of Nouns
A= ah
E= ee
I= ih (like in)
O= oi
U= oo
Y= eh (like in yet)

--- For numbers ‘g’ equals an ‘h’---

0--- En (Een)
1--- Ag (Ah)
2--- Dig (Dih)
3--- Sig (Sih)
4--- Fag (Fah)
5--- Hig (Hih)
6--- Cag (Cah)
7--- Lig (Lih)
8--- Mag (Mah)
9--- Kig (kih)
10--- Zag (Zah)
100--- Zag-zag (zahzah)
1000--- Wag (wah)
1000000---Wag-wag (wah-wah)

20---Dig-Zag (Dih-zah)
30---Sig-Zag (Sih-zah)
40---Fag-Zag (Fah-zah)

22-Digah-Dig-Zag (Digah-Dih-Sah)

491 Agah-Fag-Zag-Zag (Ahah-fah-zah-zah)

---Even numbers end with ‘ag’ and odd with ‘ig’
(2 is an exception because it is even but a prime number)---

Things to know (basics)
- Unlike English the vowels do not ‘say their name’ when separated by one letter from another vowel. The always say their name whether next to another vowel or not. All vowels are spoken, never silent. This is another thing that makes Barkule hard to learn.

- Sentence structure is the same as English.

- Male suffix is ‘a’

- Female suffix is ‘e’

- When talking about a male or female you add the ‘a’ or ‘e’ according to its gender for verbs and certain words.

---Example--- The boy’s dog = Kat funo uniff kat punipa. The direct translation would be “The dog of the boy”. There are no ‘s in Barkule or shortcuts in how to show possession. ‘My’ is the only exception.

- Ma = My.
---Example--- My sister is tall = Ma astre uen flaen.

- Tkh is more a clicking of the tongue then a word. It is used solely when speaking of ones self. It means the same as the English ‘I’ and is always capitalized.

- To make something plural simply add ‘s’ if it ends in a vowel. If it does not end in a vowel add ‘os’.

- When talking about many males and females or a male and female together you add ‘aes’ to the base.
--- Example--- Children = Jinkenaes while one male child is a Jinkena and one female child is a Jinkene. The base is Jinken. The male suffix being ‘a’, the female being ‘e’ and the grouping being ‘aes’

-If you add ‘i’ before the suffix in a verb it is past tense:

---Examples--- ‘Tkh ansk salva’ is ‘I am handsome’ for males. If you added the female suffix it would instead be ‘Tkh ansk salve’ which is ‘I am beautiful’. The word takes on it’s female equivalent.

---Even if talking about something with no gender you can still add the suffix to use the word. ‘Kat huken uen salve’ which is ‘The tree is beautiful’ A tree has no real gender but the suffix is used anyway to describe it.----

‘Tkh ansk salvia’ is the past tense because of the ‘i’ before the suffix. So in English it would be ‘I was handsome’ and the female equivalent would be ‘Thk salvie’ which translated is ‘I was beautiful.’ The ‘i’ becomes the same as the word ‘was’.
------ Note. This is the only time a vowel can equal a word when used in a word.

English--- Barkule

A--- A (ah)

I--- Tkh (ta-k)

Me--- My (meh)
My--- Ma (mah)

You--- Ja (jah)
Yours--- Jas (jahs)

It/It’s--- Et (Eet)
Is--- Uen (Oo-een)
In--- Enis (Een-ihs)

What--- Gut (Goot)
Who--- Get (Geet)
Where--- Git (Giht)
How--- Got (Goit)

The--- Kat (Kaht)
That--- Ghat (gaht)
Those--- Hat (haht)
There--- Here (heer-ee)
Here--- Jare (jah-ree)

And--- Anisk (Ahn-ih-sk)

To--- Tu (Too)

Of--- Uniff (Oon-ihff)

Are--- Arc (ahk)

Am--- Ansk (Ahn-sk)

But--- Yut (eh-oot)

Very--- Hace (hah-see)

-{Example: ‘Hace naka’ is ‘Very nice’ for males and ‘Hace nake’ is ‘Very nice’ for females.}-

He--- Saka (Sah-kah)
His--- Sakoa (Sah-koi-ah)
She--- Sake (Sah-kee)
Hers--- Sakoe (Sah-oi-ee)
They- Suge (soo-g-ee)

Sister--- Astre (Ah-st-ree)
Brother--- Astra (Ah-st-rah)

Mother--- Kine (kih-nee)
Father--- Kina (kih-nah)

Grandfather--- Aboa (ah-b-oi-ah)
Grandmother--- Aboe (ah-b-oi-ee)

Aunt--- Yune (eh-oo-nee)
Uncle--- Yuna (eh-oo-nah)

Cousin (male)--- Okna (oik-nah)
Cousin (female)--- Okne (oik-nee)

Parents- Astraes (ah-strah-ehs)
Grandparent- Aboaes (Ah-boi-ah-ees)
Relatives- Antaes (Ahn-tah-ees)

Sir--- Usi (oos-ih)
Ma’am--- Use (oos-ee)
Man--- Naga (nah-gah)
Women--- Nage (nah-g-ee)
Boy--- Punipa (poo-nihp-ah)
Girl--- Punipe (poo-nip-ee)


Yes--- Don (doin)
No--- Nak (Nnahk)
Agree--- Same as Yes
Disagree--- Same as No

Nice (male)--- Naka (nahk-ah)
Nice (female)--- Nake (nahk-ee)
Like (male)--- Yoa (eh-oi-ah)
Like (female)--- Yoe (eh-oi-ee)

-{To say you don’t not like something or that it’s not nice add ‘no’ (Nak) to the beginning. So ‘Nak naka’ is ‘not nice’ for males and ‘Nak nake’ is not nice for females. And so on}-

Go--- Vaz (vahz)
Stop--- Depsire (deep-sih-ree)

Quiet/Silence--- Nolen (noi-leen)
Loud/Noisy--- Jolena (joi-leen-ah)

If anyone has an idea they're more then welcome to tell. I know it's not really NiGHTS related, and for that I'm sorry, but this is my biggest project. Or has become my biggest one. If I were to make a book or something the Barkule would be subject and base of it all.




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This may very well confuse a lot of you. Why is Lunar sticking up for 'preps', or 'jocks', and all those other popular kids? Well, I am and I'm not. Though this mainly does focus on the findings of my constant research into the high school ways. I'm a watcher, and that means I watcher how people interact. Teens are especially interesting cause we're all so damn hypocritical it's funny in a way. This poem of sorts focuses how, and I have personal experience of this, the 'outcasts' get teased but then do they exact same thing to the popular kids. Therefore, a vicious cycle that just doesn't end.

Personally, I live by the rule of 'You're cool to me, I'm cool to you- you're down on me, I'll leave ya alone and move on with my life.'

Sometimes I can only laugh at the words I hear
Everyone bashes everyone and it all comes back to fear
But the worst of it all is that the sides are concrete
It’s win-lose throughout and fighting to beat

I laugh to myself when I hear bashing of preps
Cause I turn around and it’s the same degradation of reps
What gives one the right to look down another?
What gives anyone the right to flame a person’s mother?

Outcasts hate the preps, the jocks, and whoever
They feel they can hurt them because they aren’t as ‘clever’
So maybe that blonde is kinda shallow and mean
What makes you better then her when you say things obscene?

What gives the teased the right to tease back?
You’re no better then those who begin the attack
You all laugh and gossip about the popular kids
About the guys with ‘bling-bling’ and the sideways lids

And don’t turn around and say I don’t understand
I’m here to say I’ve been there and I can
I’ve been teased and tormented and it’s eats inside
You want to strike back and regain some pride

Cause they laugh in your face and call you a disgrace
You start to wonder where you belong, where’s your place
They glare and they smirk and they beat down your heart
You can’t be different, and certainly not smart

And then you decide to tease back and start insults
Do you think your poison words won’t bear same results?
Or do you want them to feel the hurt you’ve gone through
If that’s how it is then you need to get a clue

Revenge is a vicious cycle of pain
It likes lose-lose where there’s nothing to gain
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
In the end everyone’s blind but you don’t like this truth

Popular kids have feelings too
Took be awhile to believe but I found it was true
They have pressures at home and the movies lie
They don’t get all the glory nor can they not cry

Words hurt everyone with no remorse
Whether you’re in sports, play chess, or draw with force
We’re all teens and we all go through some hell
Is a win-win plan so hard to spell?

I’m not asking you to like everyone or get perfectly along
If I said I could do that I’d be more then wrong
I’m not saying I’m the best example out there
But I try how I can and you have to care

They judge you but you do the same
‘Anyone wearing brand names couldn’t have brain’
Well who the hell cares what they look like outside
If they ‘deserve’ to be hurt it’s not yours to decide

What I’m trying to say is that it all works both ways
Outcasts hate the popular groups and everyone pays
They tease you and you tease them
A vicious cycle of hate with no true end

It’s hard to swallow all this I know
But we aren’t kids anymore and it’s time to grow
Win-lose and lose-lose will only take us so far
And it all starts before we even get our first car

Someone glares at you smile back and say hi
Someone tries pushing you walk away with a bye
It’s not being a coward or even a doormat
It’s avoiding a conflict and not being the lab rat

The goal is to stand up for you without bringing them down
It’s hard and it’s tempting to just knock off that crown
But maybe in time you can at least gain their respect
And maybe in more time some common grounds you’ll detect

I say to everyone, no matter your click
Stop judging and bashing cause you’ll make hearts sick
Stop gossiping and backstabbing and give them a chance
Everyone’s different then from what you see at first glance

Honestly it annoys me to no end when I hear some people I hang out with ('punks' I believe would be the stereotype) bash the 'preps' when neither side has bothered to talk to the other and or even give an attempt to be nice. I mean, I talk to anyone if they aren't insulting me. And since I don't usually come straight off as mean or spiteful I happen to have quite a few 'preps' as semi-friends. I don't even have to try hard. Just have a decent conversation about how boring this class is, or how cool that teacher is, or whatever whatever and hey, you have already have a civil relationship with them. Honestly, not all sports players or popular kids are snobs and few make it their lifes ambition to look down on everyone. Those that do can be ignored.

Not asking you to agree with my point of view; only to read and maybe consider or, hey, even critique.




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Chris and the Blue Zones, yo. Not sure why I had him.. kinda sorta rap XD Seemed like a fun idea at the time.

14 year old Christopher Sky couldn’t believe this. He was standing in a back alley on the outskirts of the East Side, of all places, and was fully expected to do some thing called a ‘Rap Off’ against the leader of the Highlanders; the strongest gang on the East Side. Two things made Chris worry. 1) He had never really rapped or cared much for it. 2) He was alone. His gang, not just the Inner Circle, had been made to wait about 15 minutes away. So now, he was alone, surrounded by East Siders, and had to rap.

He hated today.

Right after I bring down the Red Zones, too… Ugh… Alexander VI, with his football jersey down to his knees, white bandana around his head, with a sideways hat on top and super baggy pants, walked to the center of the circle now around Chris. His fingers were adorned with rings and he had a gold (probably real) medallion of a money sign around his neck. Apparently they called it ‘bling-bling’.

Chris on the other hand wore a dark blue t-sh!t, black cargo pants with frayed edges and holes in the knees (that certainly weren’t bought that way), worn out sneakers, and a black corded necklace with the black side of the yin-yang as it’s center piece. But what really let everyone know just who he was, that being the ‘Prince of the Blue Zones’ and technically of the West Side, was his spiky, light blue hair.

Alexander’s light blue eyes bore into Chris’ dark navy. Or at least they tried to. Alexander was finding it hard to keep eye contact with the younger boy, much to his distaste.

“What do ya want, Alexia…?” jabbed Chris with a sharp smirk and cold tone. Immediately the crowd threw back insults at him, and Alexander was livid. But the insults bounced off of Chris’ hard mental shell, and the boy ignored the older’s anger completely. After regaining his composer, the older boy but his hands behind his back and spoke with a tone that screamed elitism.

“Why, it’s quite simple. You and I are going to have what my brothers in the hood call a rap off. We shall go back and forth with rhymed insults until the other can say no more.” Chris could have gagged. He had heard the real ‘gangstas’ talk and, though still found it utterly stupid, they at least sounded good doing it. This guy was an obvious wannabe.

“Fine. But we gotta ‘ave a beat, dun we?” He knew beat, if nothing else. Break dancing always had to have a fast paced and bouncin’ beat after all.

“Indeed. My personal DJ has provided the music for this competition.” Competition my ass…, thought Chris with a look of boredom.

The beat started up, and Chris was handed the mic. He had 60 seconds, and only one real chance to save the West Side from these guys.

“Ok. I see how this flows.
Thinkin’ ya can jump and get in a few blows.
But honestly now you’ve made a mistake.
I may not like rap but YOU I can take.

You seem ta think I ain’t got the right style
And if it makes ya happy just stay in denial
You’re all posers and wannabes and haven’t a clue
So bring it on little man, ‘lezz go foo.’

I’ll inject this rhyme like venom in your veins
When I’m through with you’ll be cursin’ my names
There’s no vaccine so you’re all but screwed
It’s your turn now so can ya be renewed?” He threw the mic at Alex, who seemed caught off guard. In fact, the whole room wasn’t quite sure if this was for real. Alex composed himself again and began.

“So the little punk can rap
Sounds like crap
You midget boy got nothing on the number one hat
I’m better then you and that’s a fact

Blue hair, ripped jeans
Shirt torn at the seams
Having decent clothing is only your dream
I’ll be kicking you down until you scream

Face it little man
You came without plan
Your rhymes are as scary as a fish or clam
Here’s the mic, but you should just scram” Hoots and hollers went up, but Chris didn’t even look effected.

“You’re kidding me, right?
You call this a rap fight?
Dissin’ my clothing ain’t even insulting
On the other hand your face is pretty revolting

Did your mommy pick out that brand new shirt?
I bet she’d cry if you fell in some dirt
Those little rings are some tight bling-bling
Too bad it doesn’t help your rhymes anything

Go back to your East Side stuffy resorts
Your rap is vile and ya got no retorts
Little boy thinks he can be a street dog
But all I’m seein’ is a dressed up hog.” Chris smirked and Alex glared as he caught the mic.

“You’re one to talk about being a dog
If I could I’d give a you a good flog
Go play fetch or run in a bog
Cause in reality you’re the hog

I hear you called the Mutt of Timber Bay
Well you little stray are about to pay
Get back in line and start following our way
Or be put down and learn to stay

Your father I hear was just a mechanic
Poor working man just couldn’t stand it
I bet he left you to get a better life
God knows all you do is cause strife” Chris was shaking in rage. He tore the mic from Alex and began. Alexander didn’t know this would be the last rhyme though.

“Shut up you damn Richie before it’s too late
You think I’m so stupid to have my gang wait?
Right at this moment you’re all surrounded
Let’s just see if you can match me kid

A dog I am and we travel in a pack
We just wait and are cool until the attack
So one you made the mistake of calling me
Two you decided to go on a bash spree

Now number threes the real kicker here
I’m gonna give you a taste of real fear
We’re gonna show you a real street fight
I’m gonna be the one with the braggin’ right.” He stopped and slammed the mic on the ground. It shattered with a high pitched squeal and from the shadows blue pieces of clothing surrounded them. Bandanas tied around the arms, shirt, hats, vests, belts, every person around them wore some form of blue.

“The games over, Alexander.” Chris smirked and drew his knife. “I wonder what would happen if I cut up that shirt, eh? Maybe put some holes in it and make a look a little more street like? What’s wrong? Not happy with how this turned out?” Alexander’s eyes were wide with fear. All this time Blue Zoners had slowly and quietly been taking his guys out until only they were left around Chris and himself.

He could hear knuckles cracking, chuckles from the crowd. Chris stepped forward, and it was all he remembered until he woke up the next day in the hospital.

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