I know this is probably old for you, but I just finished all the the fanfics with Bentley, Torako, and Dipper and I had inspiration. I LOVE Torako and I wanted to draw her and the Alcor Dreamypillow™
Phillip knows of this priceless relic: to any in the field, this artifact is at least interesting. To hold it is an experience! Phillip was only supposed to keep it for the weekend before submitting it to Special Resources in the college Library. He’d already sent the email, and was quite happy to give it a new home.
He should have known better than to let Alcor and Bentley know he had it, that summer Bentley was home between Freshman and Sophomore year. In fact, the only reason that ‘Twinny’ made it whole, if a little more hoarse-voiced than usual, to the SR Department that following Monday was because he’d pulled in Torako to help fend them both off.
Torako’s biggest observation was, ‘holy shit they’re frightening together.’
Cassie, in the Bentley time period, was actually already reincarnated into a sweet kid named Naclassa, who did not summon Alcor (which was probably a good thing, considering where he was emotionally and psychologically) during their life. They passed away about forty years before Ben and Tora do, and reincarnated into a kid named Kass, whose passion in life was basketball and who liked math but wasn’t spectacular at it.
Kass then, in his desperate search for any help at all so that he could actually pass this dumb class, found a certain summoning circle. A circle that wasn’t familiar at all but still triggered that sense of deja-vu that you get. Kass found out, easily, whose circle this was. Kass then found out, on the same site he found the circle, that depending on the task Alcor might be able to be plied with ice cream or homebaked goodies or candy.
Kass needed this problem set done yesterday. Kass summoned a demon. The rest is, as they say, history.
Quick sketch! jumping on the bandwagon of idiot trio, wherein two idiots think they’re actually cool and the other one has been dragged into this whole mess.
No but seriously click on the link, avespecora’s piece is amazing. So is zoey’s, actually.
I’ve been drawing a ton of TAU so of course the first one I post is a shitpost.
Cheap dollar store sunglasses, a leather jacket and spiky necklace thing that looks positively ancient to Torako but Dipper insists its what the cool kids wore back in the day (she doesn’t believe him but wears them anyway), and the innate need to tease Bentley.
Torako
woke up to an alarm clock ringing on the desk beside her bed.
She
didn’t own an alarm clock. She definitely wouldn’t own one that rang by the
apparatus of a hammer between two bells. And even if she did, she most
certainly wouldn’t keep it on her desk. Plus, it was a Saturday, and Saturday
mornings were for sleeping, so even avoiding all of the above points, she wouldn’t have set the alarm last night.
She
sat up, grabbed the clock and held the hammer down with her finger until she
figured out how to switch it off, and then picked up the folded piece of paper
that had been underneath the device. It was a short note, written in flowing
script, and though it wasn’t signed Torako knew exactly who it was from.
“Fricking
demon,” she muttered to herself, rolling out of bed and fumbling for her
warmest clothes. “Weekend before semifinals and he pulls this…gonna clock him
good when I get my hands on…dammitall…”
The
note lay open on her pillow.
Torako Lam (Lady Knight): I, the Winter King
All-Cold, have kidnapped your dear Prince Bentley. If you wish to see him alive
again, grasp the Bell-Clock in your hand and declare your intent. You will be
transported to my castle, where I look forward to seeing you.
I don’t know quite, to be honest. Something warm. Rich. Like leaves in Autumn, when they’re just turning to when they’re just ready to fall but haven’t. Like chrysanthemums in September, blooming, deep red, orange, golden-yellows. Like hot chocolate on cold nights, made with milk, thick, warm, deep brown to caramel. Not really flashy–not bright, not jewel toned, not so pale it’s pastel. Warm. Rich.
Really, he’s not so much a color as he is a spectrum.
Torako would think that the real question is ‘does short count as a colour’
When Bentley woke up, he felt only
slightly less exhausted than he had when crying himself to sleep in Torako’s
arms. His eyes ached, but at least the jumping, gut-turning fear that had
crawled up from his stomach to strangle his heart at the sight of…of…of Dipper’s
stomach—at least that fear was gone, weighed down by sleepiness.
He blinked his eyes open from his
position curled around his favorite body-sized pillow. He’d been squeezing it
tightly, and so he relaxed his fingers and rubbed his cheek against the soft,
fuzzy surface twice. It was lit by blue, and Ben wondered for a moment if they’d
pulled out one of his old glass animal nightlights. He blinked again, and then
realized that the direction of the light source was all wrong—it was coming from
above, wasn’t making dark enough shadows to just be one. With more confusion
than exhaustion than fear, Bentley rolled onto his back and looked up.
There, on the underside of what he
recognized as two of their darkest sheets for his bed (and was that Torako’s
seafood-patterned one in the corner?) were hundreds, thousands of tiny little
blue lights, flickering like pinpricks
of flame, like the thousands of glitter crystals on his third-favorite
headband. Bentley blinked and further released his hold on the body pillow next
to him.
backup 