Information
Aesa has a minion!
Helpy Helperton the Glivenfeld
Helpy Helperton the Glivenfeld
Aesa
Legacy Name: Aesa
The Graveyard Keeto
Owner: thoughtful
Age: 18 years, 1 month, 2 weeks
Born: August 20th, 2006
Adopted: 18 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago (Legacy)
Adopted: August 20th, 2006 (Legacy)
Statistics
- Level: 3
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 11
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
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Aesa's paws are crusted over with clay, which flakes off as he rearranges his many sculptures. A Glivenfeld watches him, restlessly shifting from one foot to the other, waiting to be asked to perform some task.
After a moment, Aesa leans back and examines the arrangement, then shakes his head and prods one, moving it just slightly.
"Almost," he mutters, dusting his hands off. His unearthly aura begins to shine through a little more as he wipes the crumbling clay away. "Have to get it right. Otherwise no one will come to buy my artwork."
He gives you a sudden look, eyes narrowed, obviously expecting some contention. "There's a great demand for my sculptures, you know," he says quickly. "My first editions always sell right away. I have a strong fanbase, after all."
He waves a hand in emphasis, then mutters as some of the stitches binding his arm onto his shoulder snap, and he has to take a moment to tighten the connection again.
He casts you another wary look, then turns back to his artwork and continues moving them about.
Finally, he has them arranged just right, or at least he thinks so; another observer might note that they are rather haphazard. And lumpy.
Sitting back on his haunches, Aesa waits, expectantly watching for someone to come along and enjoy his... er... masterpieces.
After a moment, Aesa leans back and examines the arrangement, then shakes his head and prods one, moving it just slightly.
"Almost," he mutters, dusting his hands off. His unearthly aura begins to shine through a little more as he wipes the crumbling clay away. "Have to get it right. Otherwise no one will come to buy my artwork."
He gives you a sudden look, eyes narrowed, obviously expecting some contention. "There's a great demand for my sculptures, you know," he says quickly. "My first editions always sell right away. I have a strong fanbase, after all."
He waves a hand in emphasis, then mutters as some of the stitches binding his arm onto his shoulder snap, and he has to take a moment to tighten the connection again.
He casts you another wary look, then turns back to his artwork and continues moving them about.
Finally, he has them arranged just right, or at least he thinks so; another observer might note that they are rather haphazard. And lumpy.
Sitting back on his haunches, Aesa waits, expectantly watching for someone to come along and enjoy his... er... masterpieces.
(Thank you to Heilos for the pet overlay!)
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