Jingeh

Friend.

Ibar's Team Unruly, untrained and hard to control. The lazy high elf doesn't have much time for Pokemon battling looking after this ragtag team of troublemakers.

Mood music: Ibar woke up that evening, still a little drunk that was just how he liked it. It seemed like every other evening, but this time it was a little different… he had always been a jolly drunk, or a silly drunk, but for the first time in a while Ibar’s drunkedness was one of rage, one of contempt and most importantly one of regret. One of his rare moments of lucidity as he dwelled on what had become of him, he once had potential now he was here, a spent cripple- like a broken toy he staggered through the shop door, shutting it behind him. Those in the store he greeted with a rage unlike any other he had expressed in some time, shutting the door behind them. He was fed up with being Ibar Elsiol, the man of many mistakes, the cripple, the fool, the drunk it seemed that these three phrases summarised him, were all that he was in those moments. He buried his face in his hands and he let out a sob. He had never been a tough man but he was certainly not the kind to cry, but this evening, he did. Weeping like a child in his own hands. All the people he had loved, all the friends that he had made well they were mostly all gone and done and what remained was a husk. His demeanour became consumed with a contempt, a hatred for himself. He looked up from his hands and received a rope from beneath the counter. He was sure, this was to be his last evening on this world. He didn’t take it in or think about it, the only things on his thoughts were what could have been and what was and neither of these prospects made him feel any differently. Throwing the last of his flask of alcohol back he’d toss it aside. Usually Ibar was good with words… well good is perhaps a strong word he had plenty of them and he used them as generously as he drank but not a sound escaped the hunched figure in the Flaccid Hat on this evening. He tied a knot on the rope, a noose after some many attempts. He could’ve reconsidered in this time but he was sure. He looked at it in a battle with himself, a deep inner conflict that spanned decades as he brought his fist down on the counter. Taking the rope and throwing it over the rafters, rolling his trusty wheeled chair beneath it as he’d fasten it. This was to be it, his conclusion, his final act, the last joke. Ibar Elsiol did not write a note that evening, for if he were to leave the things he loved to the people he loved it would be a list so short that in it’s end it became redundant. He brought it to his neck and had one recollection before he attempted the unspeakable. His twin brother Barbu, his parents Ellir and Talias, the faces of the high elves he had turned his back on Gwendolyn the Leaf Druid, his old friend Cedric Evelyn, Ryder all of these flashed through his mind, a final image of the Wizard’s Guild was the one he had decided to go out on. His slender figure, standing tall before he kicked the chair from beneath him, it rolled away. He did not resist, it was more painful than he’d thought it would be… longer as he struggled for death where most would for life. “Goodbye.” he thought- the rafter collapsed leaving his brittle almost ghoulish figure on the ground he’d gasp for breath. Getting to his knees, he’d slam both fists to the floorboards with all his might as he’d look to the sky. “Can you not even afford me death?” he’d sob aggressively, an anti-climax to what he'd believed would be his last rambling thoughts. Ibar Elsiol died that day, but Ibar did not. He would no longer be what he was, he would be better ,slowly rising he’d let out what seemed to be a chuckle. He’d reach for his flask, toasting to the skies. “You have a funny sense of humour.” he’d mumble to himself. With his bruised neck, reddened eyes he’d simply crack a grin. “I suppose I’ll give this life arrangement another century or two then…” as he’d throw back the last of his flask, dropping it to the ground.

Vomiting rather wildly, partY invitations would seem to spew from Ibar Elsiol's mouth with each wretch, his pompadour bobbing as slowly his office floor became littered with crumpled and spit-coated paper. He'd slowly raise his head up glancing to his door where the bony and shady silhouette of Ambros's stood laughing... raising a finger as if to challenge his master it would waver and fall to his side as invitations fell, a slow-walking Ambros wandering off as he left his apprentice... "Wizard's Guild rules..." he added with a raspy croak, one that seemed to echo through the Guild's halls this day...

[!] Posters lay strewn across the various streets of Alras and the nearby areas, hanging loosely pinned overnight. It seemed as if they'd appeared from nowhere, fluttering in the wind.

Alright so despite my negligence of this thread I do believe I'm going to start it up again because I'm plagued with boredom and I think I've improved enough to warrant this another go. So go ahead and pelt me with requests fellows... please? ;-; And here's some eye-candy to entice 'ya...

"I guess it's almost time to go..." the decrepit goblin said, as he glanced at his now empty tavern, his brothers grown, his bastards sown. THere was no more a need for Jingle Claw. His purpose was long since gone, a changed goblin he was. The young goblin who wandered around in Jesters garb and a red nose had long since wandered off into the horizon. A sickly old husk of him now lay there, through his life he had been many Baron, Admiral, Alpha. All titles that once lay before his name now gone, as he was. Now he was naught but Jingle. Not Jingeh, just Jingle. The curtains had almost come to a close on this old Goblins remarkably long existence. But in his eyes was not... regret, it was acceptance. He was sick and he was soon to meet the death that he so craved as his mind fell into shambles. He looked to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh letting out a wheezy breath as he spoke "I'll be with you again soon..." he said to the faces of his past...

Okay, I've managed to complete four this evening, will most likely be able to complete a few more tonight and the vast majority of the rest in the morning. WIthout further ado my sub-par sketches!

Why hello there, it's me, 'Jingeh'... again. After the abandonment of four drawing threads due to a spurt of procrastination and all around laziness I've returned. Now I'll probably procrastinate and forget to do most of them but alas t'is the nature of I. Need some practice so I'm going to need you guys 'ta pop in some creative requests. To see my previous works, rather than copying a surplus of image URLs here's my deviantart. http://alphagoblin.deviantart.com/ So, you know the drill at this point, pop down a little application for what 'ya want and I'll get on it as soon as I can. ______________________________________ Name: Age: Physical description: Personality: Type [signature, profile pic or otherwise.]: Other details: ______________________________________ As is the nature of request threads some will be better than others that is for sure. Also, be patient 'ya rapscallions ;)

*Jingeh twitches uncomfortably, tilting his head as he sits in the dark room, the rickety sewing machine rattling uncomfortably as he cackles* "French maid Jingeh shall return... he... she... it shall return once more..."

*Jingeh reaches into the inside pocket in his crimson trenchcoat, producing numerous oddities as he rifles for his ink and quill, he finally produces them, mumbling swear words as he crudely scrawls the name "Jingeh." he quickly tidies the two away into his pocket, furrowing his brow as he mumbles, scratching at his finely braided goatee and his mutton chops before strolling off swiftly.*

*Jingeh strolls past the poster, scratching at his goatee " Sounds like Jingeh 'kud make some 'buzinezz at this 'bash..." his hand slowly moving to scratch at his mutton chops, he furrows his brow at himself "'Nu.... 'Nu 'buziness.... ROMANCE." he says with a wild grin as he comes to the conclusion, he reaches into his lapel to produce a dead rose, blackened at the edges, he frowns at it "Perhaps 'romanze has taken a little longer than Jingeh would like..." he says, tossing the rose to his side "But 'nuw Jingeh 'muzt get his facial hair 'presentable'...." he turns on his heels, his thick red coat tail, sweeping behind him."'Dere ain't no parteh like a Jingeh parteh..." he mutters strolling off into the distance*