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transpandaoctournament · 11 months

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Transpanda OC FINALS

THIS IS IT, THE FINALS, THERE WAS A LOT OF TIES BUT WE'LL SEE WHO... SOMETHING WITH THIS. WE'LL TALLY THE VOTES AND GO FROM THERE, YIPPEE!

The rules of the tournament

Brief introduction to "Thank You For Existing"

CHARACTER BIOS BELOW

Yuni Yoshinaga

“My name is Yuni Yoshinaga, and I don’t really exist.”

Born a timid, sweet, and quiet boy, Yuni was quickly mistreated for his rare heart-shaped pupils. To avoid abuse, he donned the personality mask of “The Demon Delinquent”. Years later, a major accident occurred. Yuni was medically mistaken for Mizuki Fujisaki, a well-liked girl with the same eye condition. Feeling finally free, Yuni dubbed “his” true self as “The Girly Force” to those aware while stepping into the role. Yet Yuni couldn’t shake off the “Demon Delinquent” personality mask. Why? He doesn’t actually exist…right? Yuni is the main character of TYFE.

Primary Inspiration: Masashi Rando from Pretty Face (And Chihiro Fujisaki from DR)

Plural or Plural Adjacent?: Plural

Art of Yuni Yoshinaga by: Sunnyside_Cakes

Pan Kokoro

“I’m Non-Canon and I’m proud!”

Kokoro is your typical filler character; Never appeared in a single chapter of her source, and only a single episode of the show adaptation. The problem therein lies that the peppy girl exists inside the main character’s mind, Pan Yu. Brought to the front just a couple of weeks before the series’s canonical ending, Yu’s wedding, Kokoro is determined to find the space where she fits in best! Can she assert her existence with so many people insisting she’s just a delusional Yu, including Yu’s fiance Bow Botella? Whatever the case is, she’s surprisingly comfortable in both forms she has. Pan Kokoro is the main character of TYFE part 4: Filler Turf.

Primary Inspiration: “The Girl” from the anime of Ranma ½

Plural or Plural Adjacent?: Plural

Art by @starredfishing, commission them!

Maya St. Fleur

“I’m Maya St. Fleur, and I’m gonna blow your mind!”

An ex-demolition woman turned psychic therapist (and a zombie descendant), Maya is employed by a recap therapy organization. Despite this, she’s actually never faced her past grief of losing several close people, choosing to forget instead. Trouble strikes when she needs to attend her own recap therapy, due to an actual total memory loss accident caused by Yuni. With slightly different circumstances, will Maya finally build on her past events? Or simply continue to demolish what shaped her...? Maya is the main character of TYFE Part 1: That’s Life.

Primary Inspiration: Razputin Aquato from Psychonauts.

Plural or Plural Adjacent?: Adjacent

Art of Maya St. Fleur by: Sunnyside_Cakes

Jilly Bean

“I do not feel emotions. I hope that this does not cause you distress of any kind.”

Appearing quite emotionless at first glance, Jilly Bean is actually a severely self destructive individual focused on others first. Much of this stems from her assuming she fakes all of her emotions, when in reality she’s an undiagnosed system with one low emotion alter. She has a tendency of intervening with stories she feels demonizes someone unfairly. This need to be someone else’s anchor has led her into much trouble; the lemon coloring on her body is actually scar tissue for example. With the loss of one reformed villain turned friend, Shirley A. Gonna, Jilly’s low emotion alter gets front stuck, worsening her mindset. She is a recurring character in TYFE.

Primary Inspiration: Monkey D. Luffy from One Piece

Plural or Plural Adjacent?: Plural (Unaware)

Art of Jilly Bean by: ragingwoodcock

#Yuni Yoshinaga #Pan Kokoro #Maya St. Fleur #Jilly Bean #oc tournament #transpanda oc tournament #tyfe #thank you for existing #art #tumblr polls #featuring cameos by #Mizuki Fujisaki #Hinata Fujisaki #Gryph Alzee #Amber Berri #Marcus Lawetlat'la #Pan Yu

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palisadewasp · 9 months

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i am soooooo normal about other people's OCs

@transpanda-1

#thank you for existing #gryph alzee #I Am Not Immune to drawing characters as tarot cards #poggay draws #panda all of y'all's OCs are fucking amazing and i am obsessed with gryph #such a silly man

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transpanda-1 · 6 months

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POV: You watching Thank You For Existing

#chirps #tyfe #thank you for existing #plurality #did/osdd #gryph alzee #marcus lawetlat'la #jilly bean #sue mary #pan kokoro #bow botella #maya st. fleur #yuni yoshinaga #achara a-wut #kim kintsugi #amber berri #Paltinum

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spookymodernjazz · 2 months

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You asked for lemur questions, so:

-when they sleep, do they curl up in a fluffy ball or just sprawl out?

- do they just sleep anywhere or do they have particular places they like to nap?

-do they have favorite foods?

YAY LEMUR QUESTIONS THANK YOU

1. It depends! Most of the time they curl into little balls and wrap their tails around themselves or each other. The Eulemers especially become little orbs

But when it's sunny, they like to sprawl while they're sunning and warming up their tummies!

2. The nocturnal lemurs like aye-ayes and mouse lemurs make nests they sleep in, but the diurnal ones just kinda find a Spot and get comfy.

3. The universal one is grapes, they all go nuts for grapes. Sifakas mainly eat sumac leaves and make a giant mess everywhere that's so hard to clean up and the nocturnal ones are the biggest insectivores altho the Eulemurs will eat a cricket snack sometimes. All of them tend to be kinda picky about broccoli, it's usually the last or only thing left over.

#THANK YOU GRYPH #THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED #lemurs #primates

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duskgryphon · 3 months

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Happy valentines gryph o7 keep on smurfin

thank you danny this is wonderful. the gutsy to my reflection smurf <3

#gryph.txt #I'M GONNA BE SICK. TUMBLR CENSORED HIM #SO FUCKING FUNNY

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rhallwyn · 3 months

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Chase the Gryph

I finished this Gift last year and haven't uploaded it yet. It´s a birthday present for a Ares.

Disclamer: Art is created by me, you can't use it, unless you bought it. Please respect that, thanks!

#greif #griffin #gryph #hippogriff #Hippogryph #Hybrid #Fantasy #Fantasyart #art #artwork #digitalart #artoftheday #Comission #comissionopen

#art #digitalart #greif #gryphon #gryphins #fantasy

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 2 years

Video

twitch

Sooooo my lil smp killed the dragon tonight! We were over-prepared in some ways (thank you Sunny for the potions lmao) and under-prepared in others (...my iron pants and helmet, among others) but we did it and it was awesome! We then went endbusting and got enough shulker shells for everyone on the trip to have about 30, and wings for I think over half of us, before we all ran out of steam or had other responsibilities.

THANK YOU SO MUCH to the dragon hunt team: Sunny, Crew, Aurora, Ocean, Gryph, and Lee. It was a joy and a delight and I’m so glad y’all were there.

#ruffboimags #ruffboi streams #ruffsmp #minecraft

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gwillwrites · 1 year

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Baked In

Lord-Veritant Peonas Hydesmith is diligent and exacting in his Sigmar-given duties hunting down the cults of Chaos and expunging them wherever they try to hide. A chance meeting, witness to a petty theft, offers Hydesmith the lead he needs to begin his next hunt.

Taken from prompts on Twitter. The prompt "Bread" supplied by @freebirdcreates

The boy came out of the darkened alley, running so fast one might be forgiven for believing the very hounds of Khorne were hot on his heels. He was dirty, his cheeks soiled with muck and his hair matted down with enough grime to obscure its natural color. He was dressed in a pair of denim coveralls common to the fishmongers that plied their wares in Sapphire City’s wharf district. The coveralls were as dirty as the boy, the knees ripped and torn. One strap hung loosely down the boy’s chest, the button responsible for keeping it in place long lost. The boy wore no shoes, and his bare feet padded wetly against the flagstone street, as if the boy had run through his share of puddles following the thunderstorm that had doused the city earlier in the night.

Lord-Veritant Peonas Hydesmith watched, his disinterest growing the longer he studied the boy. Barbaras, Hydesmith’s diligently loyal gryph-hound, was only marginally more interested as he had not yet determined if the boy was prey or not. The boy could not have been more than ten or twelve summers old, but Hydesmith had never been the best at judging the age of mortals on physical appearance alone. The Lord-Veritant noted, with interest that waned as quickly as it came, that the boy clutched a loaf of bread tight to his chest as he ran. Stolen, no doubt. It was not uncommon for the street urchins of Sapphire City’s sea level districts, to resort to such methods to make ends meet. It was often a vicious cycle, the poor robbing the dispossessed, only to be burgled in return a day or a week or a month later.

The boy kept looking over his shoulder with great frequency, clearly more concerned with what was behind him than what was ahead. The behavior further supported Hydesmith’s hypothesis that the bread was pilfered. It also meant the boy did not see the Lord-Veritant in his path until it was too late. He struck Hydesmith with such force, he recoiled off the brass plate of the Lord-Veritant’s armor and landed on his backside with a pained yelp. The bread, dislodged from the boy’s grip thanks to the force of the impact, landed on the flagstone street between them.

The boy looked petrified, terrified gaze going to the gryph-hound before rising to make eye contact with the Lord-Veritant. Hydesmith’s face was obscured by his helm. Hydesmith was statuesque, unmoving. The collision had not forced him to take so much as a half step back to steady himself. He was rooted as firmly to the ground as his faith was to Sigmar. As Hydesmith stared back down at the boy, all the youth could see was the aggravated sternness sculpted into the death mask of Hydesmith’s crested helm, and the cold, judgemental eyes behind it. Something of a muted whimper managed to claw its way from the boy’s throat, but it was nothing intelligible.

Barbaras crept closer, beak clacking as he slipped between his master’s legs and sniffed at the boy and then at the loaf of bread.

“Oy!” A shout rang out from back down the alleyway. “Where did you go, you little- ah-ha!”

A man appeared from the gloom, following in the boy’s steps. He was portly, clearly used to a mostly sedentary life. His bulk was confined to trousers and a shirt discolored by grease underneath a flour dusted apron that was equally grimey. The man’s hair was thinning. What little he had atop his head was combed over in a poor attempt to cover the bald spot there. The man lumbered forward, wheezing through dry lips and Hydesmith noted his eyes were sunken and his skin was sallow, though it glistened with the sweat of the exertion put forward by this chase.

“There you are, you little shit.”

The man reached for the boy, only to stop midway when he finally noticed Hydesmith standing there. The man, a baker if the flour was any clue, took a step back, as if physically struck by the Lord-Veritant’s presence. He gawked for a moment, and Hydesmith stared silently back in return until the man found himself again.

“Lord-Veritant,” he said. Hydesmith noted the baker’s voice was wet, as if he were just catching a cold, or just getting over one. The baker rubbed his hands together nervously, and Hydesmith noted the man could not quite bring himself to meet the Lord-Veritant’s gaze. It was not an uncommon affliction. Many mortals in Sapphire City viewed the Stormcast garrisoned there as gods in their own right. Averting their gaze was often a sign of respect. But the baker’s behavior was somehow different. It was not reverential, but Hydesmith could not place a finger on what it was.

“Thank you,” the man continued. “For stopping this little thief.”

Hydesmith looked down at the boy. Barbarass clacked his beak at the baker, hissing quietly. Hydesmith silenced his companion with a wave of his hand and the gryph-hound retreated behind his master’s legs.

“The bread is yours?” Hydesmith asked the baker.

The man nodded. “Yes. Baked it myself for sale tomorrow.” The baker looked down at the boy. Realizing the boy no longer had the load of bread, the baker began casting about for it.

“You baked it this evening for sale tomorrow?” Hydesmith repeated, a question instead of a statement.

The baker looked up at the Lord-Veritant, as if perplexed, before spying the loaf on the street near Hydesmith’s feet. He moved to step over the boy, still seated on the ground, and reach for it, but the Lord-Veritant was faster. Hydesmith bent low, reaching for the loaf of bread and causing the baker to flinch backwards. As he moved, the shutter of the lantern set upon the top of his staff moved just enough to let a beam of light from within sneak out and light the dark street. The baker shrunk back, lifting his arm to shield his eyes. The boy did the same before the lantern closed again and Hydesmith straightened.

“This bread will be stale by tomorrow,” the Lord-Veritant said, turning the loaf over in his hand. “I am no baker, but is it not common practice to prepare your wares early in the morning so they are fresh when the shops open?”

Barbaras clicked his beak, looking up at the bread. It was hard to tell if the gryph-hound was as studious of it as his master, or if he was simply hoping he might be given a piece of the loaf as a snack.

“It, uh… I…” The baker seemed perplexed for a moment. He cleared his throat, the sound phlegmy, before continuing. “You see, Lord-Veritant, I wasn’t going to be able to prepare the bread as I normally would. I have to tend to my sick sister on the morrow. So I made the bread tonight so my clerk can at least have something to sell. So the day isn’t wasted. You understand.”

Hydesmith looked at the baker and then down at the boy. He let his staff fall into the crook of his shoulder, his newly freed hand reaching for a leather pouch on his belt. “How much for it?”

The baker blinked. “Lord?”

“How much?” Hydesmith repeated. “I would purchase it while it is still fresh.”

The baker balked. “I…um, it’s…”

Hydesmith lifted the bread, as if he were going to smell it, but instead, he took both hands and ripped the loaf in half. Crumbs tumbled free from the broken ends. Crumbs and something else. Something that wriggled and squirmed as they landed on the stone street. Barbaras hissed aggressively, pouncing on one of the wriggling things and tearing it open with his beak.

They were maggots. Fat and bloated, they struggled to right themselves and flee. The boy screamed and scooted away. The baker went even paler and looked ready to bolt. Hydesmith slowly and casually lifted his boot and stamped down on a pair of the corpulent insects. The burst under his weight, the stone street suddenly painted with innards the color of snot and soured milk.

“Baked this evening, you said?” the Lord-Veritant asked, his tone casual enough to suggest this was not an uncommon event for him.

The baker fled. He turned on his heels and bolted down the alley, back the way he had come. For a man of his size and apparent ill health, the baker moved with a surprising swiftness. Hydesmith already knew why. As the Lord-Veritant stepped into the alley to give chase, he threw open the shutter of his lantern of abjuration. White light, bright and holy, filled the narrow confines of the alley and scoured away the shadows. The baker, though swift, was not faster than Sigmar’s illumination. The blessed lantern light struck him, scorching exposed skin and causing him to scream as he tumbled to the ground.

Hydesmith dimmed the light as he approached, but did not shutter his lantern completely. He kept enough light free to beat back the shadows as they struggled to return. He could feel the eye of something greater trying to watch him, but the light kept that gaze away too. The Lord-Veritant stopped as he reached the baker. The man squirmed in discomfort at Hydesmith’s feet, torn between shielding his eyes from the lantern and tending to the burns that covered his face and forearms. Hydesmith bent low, gripping the man by his dirty apron, and hoisted him to his feet, and then lifted him clean off them so that the baker was eye to eye with him, boots kicking fruitlessly in the air.

“You and I have much to discuss, it seems, baker.”

The man snarled, spitting a glob of phlegm into Hydesmith’s masked face. “You won’t stop Grandfather, and I won’t help you,” he said.

He moved his jaw sharply to the side, and Hydesmith heard something in the man’s mouth come loose. Before he could stop him, the baker had bit down on the capsule. The effect was immediate, yellow foam spilling forth across the man’s lips as he began to jerk and convulse. Hydesmith dropped him, and the baker landed on the stone street like a sack of potatoes. He continued to spasm, his skin turning dark. He began to dissolve, skin and muscle sloughing off bone before degrading farther into a pool of dark gore. Hydesmith played his lantern across the stain, and the remnants of the baker evaporated under the light’s touch.

“Disappointing,” Hydesmith said.

Barbaras called and the Lord-Veritant turned towards the gryph-hound. Barbaras sat beside the young boy, who was in turn still seated on the street where he had fallen, still processing everything that had just happened, it seemed. Hydesmith fully shuttered his lantern, and strode over to the child.

“Boy,” he said.

The boy looked up at him, eyes wide.

“Do you have a name?”

“E-Errol, my lord. Errol Costin.”

“Errol, did you know about the bread?”

Errol looked at the broken loaf and the maggots smeared across the stone. He shook his head rapidly and hugged his legs closer to his chest.

Hydesmith sighed. Kneeling down, the Lord-Veritant reached up and removed his helmet. The face underneath was stern but of noble bearing. Dark hair cut short to his head, dark eyes that could pierce the soul, a hawk-like nose, and a bearing the suggested Hydesmith did not know how to genuinely smile. Errol’s expression shifted from one of fear to one closer to surprise.

“Have you ever seen a stormcast before?” Hydesmith asked.

Errol shook his head again. “No, my lord. Well, I have but, never without a helmet on. I didn’t know that… Are you all…?”

“Human?”

Errol nodded.

“Yes. Or we were, once. Before Lord Sigmar chose us.” Hydesmith reached for a pouch on his belt. From within he produced a roll of cloth and handed it to the boy. It smelled of cured meat. “Here,” Hydesmith said. “You were hungry, yes?”

Errol nodded. He reached slowly for the salami, pausing midway and looking up at Hydesmith as if he expected the Lord-Veritant to change his mind and withdraw the offer. When he did not, Errol grabbed the food and brought it close to his chest.

“Errol,” Hydesmith said.

Errol looked up at him. Barbaras clacked his beak.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I need you to show me the location of the bakery you stole the bread from. Can you do that?”

Errol paled slightly, as if the thought of returning there was distressing to him. But then he straightened, his lips pulling tight as a look of resolution crossed his face.

“Yes, my lord. I can do that.”

#warhammer community #age of sigmar #stormcast eternals #writers of tumblr #black library #fanfic #fanfiction #writblr

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manyblinkinglights · 2 years

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YOOOO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE DETAIL!!!! that makes such perfect fucking sense. my life is also imploding so I won't be able to try it immediately, and also need to finish modelling anyway (which I paused while I ???ed about what the rest pose should be), but I'll get back to you asap. again what an incredible tool, I really hope more people find and get to use it. get some rest!!! (also, out of curiosity, did you model your gryph-taur yourself? I like the balance of detail and simplicity)

I DID! Thank you!!

#vrchat #anytaur #INTO THE POSTERITY TAG IT GOES

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transpandaoctournament · 11 months

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SEMIFINALS ROUND TAKE 2!!!

The consensus seems to be overwhelmingly for redoing this poll!

REMINDER: If Yuni OR Kokoro get the most votes they both go forward, if Maya gets the most she goes forward, it they tie: I subject you to an even longer version of this image

The rules of the tournament

Brief introduction to "Thank You For Existing"

CHARACTER BIOS BELOW

Yuni Yoshinaga