Drawn by the wonderful Silverflame88 :) Me and my long-term partner IRL enjoying a cuddle.

So!
I've got a new furcadia character (Cater), working on a $30 commission - a reference sheet for Nesorties and I'm saving up for those new-fangled wedding pixels on Furcadia.

To-do list:
o. 100 images
o. Excene - remap port - unpaid -- possibly reselling
o. Nesorties - ref sheet - 1/2 paid - colouring
o. Boch - complete - unpaid
o. Mobstermuffin - trade - need to start!
o. Mithia - trade - done my half

Just re-signed up for a financial help thing with college - plus I've asked my dear to make sure I don't spend any of it until it's over £100. 'Cause like, I'm nearly skint broke at the moment xD

I've got two freebie ports to get done (a little unwilling), a commission for £60 of a portrait set (waiting for info) and for three people to finish their half of an art trade. 

Still trying to sell my alts off, might get rid of all of them then make just one to focus on - yah, like that'll work. 

Finished all of my exams; all I have now is a morning thing to go to on Tuesday 17th and A2 week 23 - 29th.

Name:  Respergo
Gender: Female
Orientation: Straight-ish
Inclination: Switch - 70% submissive, 30% dominant
Own or owned: Mated/owned -- I combine the two
Favorite fetish: Biting/Grooming xD
Favorite Training: not applicable
Favorite Impliment: Teeth, nails -- basically my body
Fabrics:  Cotton, dull leather -- anything else just makes me feel clammy/restricted after a while
Random Kink: Historical uniforms x3 My Achilles' Heel
Little bit bout yourself: Just a student in a long-term relationship who's new to the lifestyle and intimate things in general - but finding them out will be fun!

Sadly, not my own ;) *coughs* I wish *coughs* This is from a wedding that my darling dragon attended of his relatives. 

 My love (left) and his funny Dad (right). Apparently the drink was Wkd, vodka and Iron Bru ... and was gross. 

 Heheh, him and his Aunt

 LOL at his Dads facial expression!

 Where it was all happenin'!

 

Hopefully with Ehys aka 'Drieka', my boyfriend-mate-partner-wtfever term you use and as to how? x3 That's our business as he's away until Sunday so I've plenty of love waiting.

But srsly, I need to hurry up and get the comics done that we actually planned a while ago. I procrastinate with them soooo bad.

I have, let me think, two nicknames I suppose. 
Respergo: not so much a nickname as an alias, a name that was partially chosen for me and partially my choice. It means 'splash' in Latin, which does contradict my deep-seated fear of any water deeper than my neck (good for hot tubs, bad for ocean swimming x3). But I also see it this way: dropping a rock into a puddle sends ripples further and further out - and so I hope to further and further my interests and passions. 

'Little Creepy Sam': given to me by Rose, on account of my occasionally slightly macarbe ideas or thoughts. But it's purely affectionate.

Oh god, how *perfect* for me to spot this! -squeals- 
18th century, hands down no contest. Not only were the female (and male) fashions utterly gorgeous but we were making pretty damn good advances in the medical and military sections of life. 
Of course, if I transferred my current wealth over I'd probably be a camp bitch but... if not, gimme the corsets, social etiquette and culture *makes grabby hands for*. 

What the hey, I might even have sneaked into the army ;) Try and kick some French buttocks (no offense to the French now, of course)!

Silly as it may sound, write. It doesn't matter what I'm writing in or on (be it my sort-of diary, this blog, a note for tomorrow or even a little on my two wip-progress stories), I *have* to write something. But it generally ends up being a 'night night' text to my love or a small scribble about my day on the calendar.

Probably my bluntness/stubborness; I'm pretty resistant to advice and it's a long-term fault I'm steadily fixing. Blunt? It depends now on a, who I'm with and b, *why* I'm being blunt in the first place.

(: So, no more Graphics for me until (hopefully) my second and final year at college. But I'm a little disappointed that I had to put *all* of my relevant sketches into it - some I wanted to take home and frame, which is a real poop. 

I'm now opening up three slots for art trades!

And it'll be in that order as well :p

I've got myself a new main. Her name's Mothan and, true to form, because she isn't male then she's sexually unattractive and gruff to boot. Here's her description: Africano puss' put the raw in brawler; fists hardened by action, palms calloused by the trusty flogger coiled firm to the bullet-belt. A buttoned shirt, crisp to the touch, bore over it lashings of linen to act as armour - Victorian cat possessed a metaphorical tough hide embodied in Krupp-steel eyes and a gruff exterior. Dulled leather was stretched taunt over nethers, metal-capped pighide boots stained with ink for that handmade touch. Her age belied in translucent canines and greying tailtip but, like the whisky sloshing inside her tarnished flask, she proved one thing - some things get better with age. 
And I'm saving up for a Leonen [Lion] Ferian for life for her, as it's only the Dragonscale equivalent of $49.95. 

The last two tie in together actually. 
My darling has decided, for some time, that he'd like to see me either in a ballgown or some brighter, summery clothing. The former I can see only happening at a few stages in my lifetime, the latter slightly more so. But, after talking with Rosemary and Rhianne, we've hatched a plan that he delights in - some time over the holiday, those two will be taking me up to Newcastle (via train, ooher, first time on one) for some shopping. Rosemary wants to drag me into Ann Summers as well, which I'm still loling at. 

I've got a field trip this Friday and an exam Tuesday - bit of a busy week ahead :D

Or starter, spoiler or whatever else you care to name it. The story is set in modern-day Darlington (the second and current hometown of my life, woo!) and relvolves around two magical organisations. The Guild [formal name coming asap] are the good guys, run by a council of three elder beings that represent the three magical classes present in my story -- Mages (which come in Flesh, Metal and Elemental variety), Beserkers and Shifters. The organisation is there to provide a supporting place to turn to, a place to seek advice and a place to go so you know that you're not alone. The Guild also finalises decisions such as crime-solving within the magical community and gatherings. The Norse [formal name, again, coming asap] are the bad guys, run by one warlord-like character who has brought together all the unsavoury beings and beasties; vampires, zombies, dire wereanimals etc. The Norse is there with the intention to bring Ragnarok [the end of the world according to Viking mythology] to Britain and, eventually, the world.
Now there are powerful Gods/Goddesses involved. Both sides worship a pathenon - the Guild worships the Roman way of things, the Norse worship, well, the Norse dieties xD By keeping the gods appeased, both sides gain access to their magic. If they displease the gods, the magic is withdrawn from them - this applies to individuals but a focus is made on keeping them generally appeased.
                                                                                           ------
The street lamps only just assisted his eyes, his sight already strained due to the pollution clogging the air. While it couldn’t be seen to most, he sensed it in all of the perceptions; his eyes saw it as sickly flecks of colour, it made his flesh itch, he tasted its bitterness in the back of his mouth and it nearly made him gag at the smell. But Tiberius wasn’t going to be put off making this delivery trip quite so easily. With a reluctant snort and a brief stamp of one soled hoof on the cement road, he increased his pace into a trot as he checked the signpost nearby, restricted a little by the crude graffiti. Wrapping the bomber jacket tighter over his torso as he went, the humanoid made his way almost wearily down a side-alley near to the Civic Theatre – just in time to avoid the next rush of traffic and revealing headlights. His target, two figures hunched over a rudimentary fire made from some dried newspapers, was just ahead – with a whicker, he accelerated briefly up into a canter then gave each a nod of greeting.
“You weren’t seen were you?” asked the female to his left, leaning against the extinguished lamp and clearly looking like she wished she was elsewhere. If you took in the trenchcoat and boots, the term ‘war nut’ might have been fitting if the top beneath hadn’t been a fraction more decorative. To cap it all, the hood of a top worthy for someone who was up this late was pulled up over her head while a cream scarf nearly restricted her quick question.
Tiberius snorted again, stamping a hoof down with anger this time before the chiding movement of the partially-scaled goblin nearby stopped the rest of his tirade. Inhaling sharply, he let his lungs fill with the tainted air before letting it all out slowly.
“No. I time my journeys well domina. Nobody saw a flank or fetlock of my presence,” he answered gruffly, eyeing the male for a moment before speaking again as he warmed his hands over the metal drum.
“The organisation is gathering. June 20th to coinc-,” he began, only for the humanoid glad in a tarnished labcoat to cut across him. With a number scarred into the flesh at the base of his neck, the experimental escapee was the result of an encounter with their also magically enhanced opponents.
“Yes, yes, we all remember. The meeting always lands on the day when the sun is at its highest – the solstice, to use the terms our ancestors preferred.” Poor Tiberius, he really wasn’t getting a word in any case was he! But the goblin man clearly wanted to get this over with as soon as possible – he had a warm bed and a decent meal waiting for him back at what they termed ‘local headquarters’ and was damned determined to get there before the sun rose again. Already, at this early hour, the sound of traffic nearby was increasing and the scent of people going about their daily business increased. Well, it was a city at 5am, it was reasonably understandable.

After a half-hour of mumbling between the two menfolk, she grew quickly irked by this lack of valuable information exchanging and stood up properly, kicking a stone over before following it.
“Come on, time to get back to our usual haunts. Tiberius, where do you go?” A good question – unlike Ferdinand and herself, hiding your lower half being a horse must have been considerably more difficult. Tiberius smiled, glad that she’d directly addressed him for once.
“There’s some disused stables nearby. Some year’s back, I converted it into a hiker shack for climbers who get lost and in need of a place to sleep and refuel on the low hills. I’m not around but as long as they don’t go prying into the locked rooms, the food keeps coming.”
A car horn honked nearby, bringing all three of their heads sharply up.
“Well, I’m off. Best stick to the alleys so my hairy half isn’t visible.” With that, the centaur wisely departed and clopped off into the darkness that still clung to a few of the streets. The goblin guy was next – stretching his arms up, his spine popped into place and he clapped her on the shoulder.
“I’ll see you around Val’.” She nodded, thumping a closed fist against her heart – he paused, looked around then returned the gesture. The pair shared a brief feeling of comradeship before parting ways. He headed into one of the nearby bungalows that he’d taken up lodging residence in while she thumped her way with a slight spring in her step back towards the outer edges of the town.
                                                                                           --

So I've mentioned that m'dear wants to get me in some more modern or at least 'trendy' gear - less of the doom and gloom I beleive. But he does want to see me in a formal dress of some sort. Here's some I like:
The runched effect of the material is very nice, not to mention the material colour itself and the decorative designs at the top.

Again, I'm not keen on the notion of it being strapless but the colour draws my eye in. Again, the runching of the skirt is appealing and the decorative quality of the top is pleasant.

Sadly those are the only two designs I've found that a, have caught my eye and b, aren't historical.
I think my checklist would be something like this:
o. Nothing pre-WW2
o. Preferably sleeves
o. No black (or anything alarmingly gothic or morbid I beleive)
o. A 'flouncy' bottom - nothing alarmingly sleek because I despite overlly-fitted clothing *hisses*

'Nother note: Still on the lookout for some (preferably cheap) plain bands which will be engraved with our names and suffice as promise bands. Any help folks?