#talbuk plush

[scribblemuffin]

This handsome chap is finally finished, and has been shipped to his new owner!  I hope they like him as much as I do <3 

[sockmuffin]

Latest custom talbuk, Orobas!  Some turnaround pics of him, plus the sketch I originally did to give an idea of what his design would look like plushified (the colours of the sketch aren’t accurate).  He was a lot of fun to work on!

[tunnysaysidk]

[155] Orobas the Talbuk 

Features:

o 3D Eyes

o Plush Hooves (Plus Foam Hooves, Not Pictured)

o Plush Horns & Spikes

o Plush Teeth

[vaard]

Draecember day 4: Wait! I can explain!

And then Rue got a talking to about honesty and responsibility.

[dancinghare]

[Art] Plush – Mini Talbuk v2 Got the new pattern drawn and cut out. Worried that I might have made him too wide, but we'll find out!

[keynelis]

Rules: List three to five of your muse’s most treasured possessions. it can be anything from their past or present that they value. Repost, don’t reblog.

Optional: Briefly explain their significance.

1. Tail Ring ‘Inside was a gorgeous shaped and crafted tail ring inlaid with sapphires in snowflake shapes all around it, the larger bands at the top and the bottom encrusted in diamonds. It was incredibly flashy. ‘ One of his most treasured items that he lost is the tail ring he received from his wife. She gifted it to him on his second birthday after they were married, as his old one was rather dull, made of low quality metal and fit far too tight. It is the only thing he had left from her and it’s loss still pains him.

2. Photo One of the few things he has from Draenor that isn’t damaged is a picture of his small family. It was taken after the birth of his daughter Astari, Her older brother Onin holding her with Keynelis and his wife happy watching the children from behind. It has become a bit worn from his looking at it but it is still one of his most prized possessions.

3. Talbuk plush. Another item that may be a bit of a shock is a slightly charred and worse for wear talbuk plush, it is threadbare, eyes missing and the felt tail in tatters but it is something he holds dear. It was the first gift he gave his son after saving and working hard, he wasn’t able to afford a real Talbuk but it was a promise that he would be getting one in the future.

4. Golden locket. The one item that is always on his person no matter what is a golden locket. Despite wearing a range of gaudy and gold accessories this locket is on the small side, it and the chain are a plain gold, yet this is the item he protects the most as it would be rare anyone even knew he wore it. Inside is a single lock of baby fine white hair, which belonged to his daughter. 

Tagged by: no one but sort of @shuuhuu xD Tagging @celestial-petal @thecleverbard um and anyone else! this is pretty fun and it made me think.

[rudra-writes]

Pellurin Date Night (Part 7)

Part of a roleplay story with Telurin’s player. After attending the festival, Pallas confesses his feelings to Telurin, but the death knight has concerns that Pallas may have been too inebriated to think clearly.

The death knight had taken the opportunity of a completely passed out Pallas to slip out of bed at some point. There's a glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed, and Telurin is seated at the table, papers strewn in front of him as well as a fair amount of jewelry crafting equipment, the start of another fine chain beaded with sapphires beginning to come together. Pallas reaching for the stuffed talbuk catches Telurin's attention, and he turns to look over at Pallas just as the Anchorite turns to look at him.

"How do you feel?" he asks, frowning as he looks Pallas over and seeing the answer to his own question.

Pallas curls in on himself in a yawn, then stretches outwards, even stretching his small hoofed feet. "My head hurts." He notices the glass of water. It must be for himself, so he pulls himself up to a sitting position to reach for it. "Did you bring this for me? Thank you."

The priest takes a drink, then looks over at Telurin's table, noticing the activity. He isn't certain what the papers are there for, so he asks, "Are you reading?"

Telurin waves off the thanks, and sets down the pliers he was using to work on the chain, stacking the papers and flipping them over before standing and coming back to the bed and his Anchorite.

"Diagrams, mostly." The death knight says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and frowning at Pallas. "You drank too much last night, I think. Perhaps next time you will listen when I say you should slow down?" The tone is too gentle for a reprimand, and quieter than he’d normally be in consideration of the other draenei's headache.

"Do you draw your own diagrams?" Pallas asks, his interest perking up even through his headache. But Telurin had turned the papers over, rather to his dismay.

Remembering the alcohol, Pallas wrinkles his nose in distaste, and smiles wryly. "The side-effects really are not worth it, are they? What about you, did you sleep well?"

"I do and I did." The death knight smirks, and puts a cool hand to Pallas's head to help his headache. "I hope you can heal it yourself, I happen to know the Anchorite here does *not* hand out cures for hangovers."

Pallas leans his forehead appreciatively into Telurin's cool hand. Sometimes, the undead state of the other draenei's body had its advantages.

Undead. It was easy to forget that, lately. It wasn't as if Telurin's body appeared to be rotting, flaking or otherwise falling apart. The man had an unsettling aura, but the priest had spent so much time in his presence now it had become something that blended into the background.

Pallas smirks at Telurin's words. "And how would you know a thing like that? Have you been inebriated yourself at this inn before?" Then he nods, raising his own hand to attempt to heal the headache himself. Healing with the Light was more difficult when he was under pain or other duress, but such situations had been part of his training as an Anchorite, and were not unknown to him.

Telurin removes his hand and lets Pallas work, leaning back on one hand, trapping the Anchorite's legs. He'd foregone a shirt, and was only dressed in his pants as they were still in the room with nowhere to be. He had guessed, judging from the amount of alcohol that had gone into Pallas last night, and how tipsy he was, that the he'd be waking up to an unpleasant headache at the least.

"At this inn? Yes, though by then I knew better than to ask." Telurin waits to reply until Pallas is finished, not wanting to disturb him while he was healing.

"I am often found in Embaari. This inn has passable coffee, at least, and I've been told the food is good, if you're up to it."  It's a small confession, lightly given, and the death knight is more interested in Pallas's condition anyways.

Pallas looks up at Telurin after the faint glow from his hand dims and fades away. He smiles, "Better."

He wondered if he was even capable of healing one of the death knight's hangovers. Telurin probably drank enough to kill a person when that happened. //I'll just have to see to it that he doesn't become that depressed,// he thinks to himself.

After a moment, he starts to fidget. "So, um... Last night." Pallas eyes Telurin, uncertain of how his next statement would be taken. "Would it scare you if I said that my feelings haven't changed since then?"

Telurin's expression goes from easy and what passes for open with him to tight. He sighs, which relieves none of his tension and lowers his eyes, avoiding Pallas's gaze.

"It does not scare me, Pallas. I had time to think on it, while you were asleep." He starts with, hand coming to rest on the blankets that cover Pallas's thigh. "And if you feel the same now, well....." He trails off, and puts a hand to his crest, as if feelings, this early in the morning, are giving *him* a headache. "I am not sure what you expect it to change. I have proven my devotion to you, do you need to drag these words from me as well?" A snort, but a soft one, from the death knight, a squeeze of Pallas's thigh, and he shakes his head. //I am too old to play this game,// he thinks, but what he says is, "We will go forward together, my ke'chare."

Pallas immediately looks nervous. So much so, he signs rapidly with his hands. "Don't get the wrong idea! I'm not saying this because I want something different from you, or I want to try to make you feel some way you don't. Or because I need to hear anything. I just... wanted to let you know how I felt." He clutches his talbuk plush to himself. "If I said something like that to you with the intention of wanting something back, I think that would be rather manipulative of me."

"It would," Telurin agrees, reaching out to catch Pallas's hands and soothe his frantic gestures. "But that does not mean people do not do it. Even unintentionally. From you, Pallas, it is a kind gesture, but an unnecessary one. Declarations of love - real or imagined, mean less to me than the actions that those feelings inspire."

Pallas becomes quiet, listening to Telurin. When the death knight finishes speaking, the priest nods, then straightens his back up to wrap his arms around Telurin's neck, nuzzling and kissing under his jaw.

"Even so," he replies, "I'm glad you believe me."

"It's easier to believe when you're in full command of your faculties." Telurin chuckles, bringing his arms around Pallas and stroking gently down his back, comforting rather than provocative. He tucks his chin to catch Pallas's lips with his own, and the death knight’s kiss is similar to his embrace. Solid, dependable, forming around Pallas's lips almost tenderly, meant to reassure Pallas of his own feelings.

Pallas shivers at these tenderly-given reassurances. His tail wags, and he takes his time kissing and feeling Telurin's lips, his eyes fluttering closed.

He opens them again and smiles, his eyes bright and hopeful when he raises them to Telurin's face. He touches a spot below the death knight's clavicle, and remembers, his eyes drawing downward to look, that this was the place where Telurin had been shot, and he'd had to dig the bullet out. And then had sewn up his skin where he had been cut open.

//I never imagined back then, that things would have ever come to this,// he thinks, rubbing his fingers over the place on Tel's skin gently.

There's still a faint scar there, a patch of thinner skin that's nothing compared to the ragged circle lower down, or the long gashes in his side, but up close like this, it's still noticeable, still new with its lighter color and smooth texture. Telurin can feel where Pallas's hand has ended up, and covers it with his own.

"I am glad you were there that day." He says, guessing the Anchorite's thoughts. One corner of his mouth quirks, just the barest hint. "And that you were so forward."

Pallas laughs gaily. "I seem to recall I threw several people out of that inn I dragged you to... Or maybe they left on their own?" His eyes hood, and he wriggles for a moment like a cat about to pounce. "My patient was a very scary man."

"Hmmm..." Telurin sounds pleased to be described as 'scary.' "A joint effort, I think." The death knight reaches lower and tweaks Pallas's tail, hoping to surprise him as he catches that mischievous look.

[wrong-constantine]

4. A character you rarely talk about? 12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot 30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection? (BET IT'S DARE)

Character I rarely talk about:Probably Bradamante and Athania, my two human peeps. Most of my characters are intertwined with them in my little head world.An OC that isn't mine that I like a lot:All the adorable ones. I'm very easy. I love them all. Except that one. *Vaguely points off into the distance*Who has a secret stuffed animal collection:See, Dare had one, but it's not a secret. He doesn't hide them. He has a giant squid that he uses as a body pillow and then a few different monkey ones from his dad. Bradamante is the one who has a secret collection, hidden from everyone except like her mom and husband. She has a plush talbuk that was from Kharas. Also a plush Lordaeron knight that is so worn and threadbare that she won't let anyone touch because it's from her dad and one of the few things they saved when they fled. She has a few cats and wolves that are stuffed versions of Swim's pets. But they're all secret and well hidden and if you touch them she will end you.

[mozelledeliond]

🌟+ Cloak

Send 🌟+ any random word and my muse will talk about a memory associated with that word.

"You go on an extended trip abroad and you try to bring something nice back for your boy back home..."

-------------

The alternate Draenor was by all accounts a blight upon reality itself, but it was not completely without merit. It held a beauty that made one ache to know how poorly things had gone in their own timeline — to know that such had been its truth once but could never be again.

Shadowmoon Valley, in particular, was host to vast lush fields and enchanted forests that shimmered with magic. The sky was an array of pastel sunrises and twilights, dotted with celestial bodies and bearing its own odd inadherence to the expected cycle of day and night; it seemed to move on its own distinct and much shorter cycle, allowing a human to experience its day and night and day again before they had to even think of retiring to sleep.

And the hunting was excellent.

Mozelle did not hunt for the sport of it alone—it was wasteful and disgraceful to kill without intent to put to use as much as they could of the body—but that did not mean she could not enjoy the sport of it when it came time to ensure the Icecrown Mercenaries would have fresh meat for dinner.

Talbuks, in particular, made for fine game. The ones of the shattered Outland had a thinness and moppy shagginess that was ethereal, but those of Draenor had meat on their bones and much thicker, plusher hides—really, quite luxurious ones.

The one she prepared was a soft deep purple and almost plush enough to replace a mattress. Getting the musky scent out without destroying it took some effort, and Mozelle had a suspicion it would need similar treatments in the future, but the finished product would be worth the maintenance:

A heavy cloak, large enough to comfortably drape over his shoulders and long enough to reach about mid-calf, with a leather strap and pewter-plated iron clasps to secure it in place.

-------------

"...anyway, the fucker avoided me for several weeks when I got home and had been playing around with other girls, as was his wont, so I kept it for myself. Had to make some adjustments to fit, obviously.

"I got him some shitty clasps for a cloak he already had instead, since I had promised him a gift when I got home."

[zimina-rp]

Does Theo have a 'security blanket', stuffed animal or other item that he likes to keep close by?

(x)

“C’mon, it’s okay, just alittle closer. No, no wait, don’t bite, don’t b—OW!”

Theothar shook out his hand,nursing the painful chomp he’d just received from his talbuk, dubbed GrumpyFuzzbutt. “Oh, so when we get attacked by orcs and wolves you want to cuddle,but now that we’re safe, you don’t want anything to do with me! I see how it is.”

In reply, the talbuk flippedhis tail at the Vindicator and trotted to a safe distance before settling intothe grass again.

“I love you too.”

OOC: Theothar doesn’t keepany kind of object or security blanket with him, but he’s so accustomed tosleeping in barracks with lots of people around, that it’s strange to him if hedoesn’t have some sort of commotion nearby. If there’s no one else causing aruckus, he might just cause one himself.

keialaar malvalen-ooc

[vaard]

After chatting with @pridemother-scribbles, we realized her druid Almaeth and Vaard most likely encountered each other at the Exodar crash where she was helping rescue survivors, and could have been the one that dug Vaard out of the wreckage. One ‘what if’ led to another and now the talbuk plush was repaired and sporting a new button eye from her own armor, one of the few things he had left after losing everything.

He barely remembers anything about the crash and the days following, and to her he was just another face among hundreds she had passed, but we both had to immediately draw afterwards to get the feels out and this is the result from mine.

[dancinghare]

[Art] Plush - Talbuk 2.0 WiP

[Art] Plush – Talbuk 2.0 WiP

I finished sewing the test talbuk, he’s loosely stuffed and just pinned because I didn’t want to waste stuffing. So he doesn’t look exactly as he would finished, but close. I think I’m getting pretty close with this pattern, but I want to wait a while and look at it later with fresh eyes. I think also using fur fabric (versus fleece) might help, because that is slightly less stretchy. But I don’t…

[dancinghare]

[Art] Plush - Mini Talbuk WiP

[Art] Plush – Mini Talbuk WiP

One day I will make a perfect pattern first try… but not today. I ended up not stuffing him because I could already see he had a lot of changes needed. Widen the legs. I do like the shape and length though. Widen the chest and head. This will allow the horns to lay the right way too. Right now they just look like bigger ears. Move the tail further up. Any other suggestions?  

[dancinghare]

[Art] Mini Talbuk Pattern Ignore the crazy fabric, I'm doing a test to make sure everything works before using real fur (and making all the fiddly color changes)! Working on a small talbuk plush for my shop. This could also be adapted into a halla!

[vaard]

I see that Rue is a little girl of culture, loving my little talbuk. I hope she doesn’t have an alicorn talbuk OC though...

Don’t worry, she just has a normal my little Talbuk plush. Behold Mr. Buck Tall, best friend, partner in crime, shenanigan instigator and prized possession.

[rudra-writes]

Pellurin Date Night (Part 2)

Part of a roleplay story with Telurin’s player. The pair journey to Embaari, where Pallas goes on a date with Telurin. They attend a beer and wine festival alongside a lake, and play carnival games.

Pallas mumbles in response, his tipsiness causing him to act sulkier than the situation truly calls for. Naturally, Telurin knocks over the bottles with minimal effort.

“If you had had more to drink, your aim would be as bad as mine.” What a meanie, asking to play accuracy-related games after Pallas had drank too much! Still, the priest readily takes a talbuk plushie. He clutches it, his drunken state causing him to forget his worry about how he might look holding such a thing.

Telurin thinks he looks adorable, and it has the added benefit of keeping the Anchorite from making too much of a scene by getting progressively more 'handsy’ with his death knight 'guardian’.

“I would rather one of us remain sober, Anchorite. Do you wish to go back to the tasting booths, or is there something else you had in mind?” Telurin lets his voice drop, subtly suggestive. “Your choice, Pallas.”

Pallas's brows furrow when Telurin suggests they might return to the tasting booths. Hadn't the death knight been warning him against drinking too much only a short time earlier? He peers tipsily up at Tel's face. "... I don't know that I should have more alcohol," he says slowly, as if forming sentences is challenging right now, "But, won’t you have some, too? You've hardly had any, and you're always so stiff."

Pallas shoves his hands pathetically against Telurin's breastplate, as if complaining about his guardian's 'stiffness'.

Telurin catches Pallas's wrists, and gently puts them back on his side of the death knight’s public personal space bubble.

"I will drink." He says. "But not here. If you wish, we'll take a bottle or two and go off back to our rooms or down by the lake." //Away from people.// is the end of that statement, unsaid but thought.

Pallas huffs softly. He had hoped Telurin might be able to have more fun, that he might smile a genuine smile. In his tipsiness, his mental state comes across as being like a cloud of cottony wool, any thought-forms directed at him only passing through with effort.

Still, the priest seems to understand, for he nods. //I'd like to see the lake,// he tries to communicate in his cottony, drunken brain. //And be away from the people and noise.// He clutches his talbuk plush, holding onto Telurin's elbow to steady himself as he follows the armored draenei away.

Telurin gets enough of that to understand, and he nods. Their path takes them past the alcohol booths, and Telurin stops long enough to pick up a bottle of the blackberry liqueur, as well as a lighter blackberry wine, before guiding his slightly-definitely tipsy Anchorite through the town and down to the lake, where there's a secluded little spot next to some willows along the shore.

"Better?" he asks, settling against a nearby rock outcropping and pulling Pallas to him.

Pallas is pulled close to Telurin's cool armor and mail. He lays his slender self against the death knight without any hesitation, his stuffed talbuk dropping lightly to the sand by accident. He's warm, but not holding himself up entirely soberly.

//It's very pretty here,// the priest comments mentally, gazing out at the pure aquamarine blue of the lake before turning his eyes up at Telurin's face. //Was it not enjoyable for you?//

"It was very enjoyable for me, Kechare." Telurin says, reaching for the stuffed talbuk and setting on a nearby rock, so that it doesn't get dirty. "I am not often one for crowds, but it was worth it to see you so relaxed."

Telurin is so attentive, he actually picks up Pallas's dropped plush. The priest smiles when he's reassured their little outing was enjoyed by the death knight after all.

He tries to stretch himself taller to meet Telurin's face, caressing the other man's sideburn in his thin fingers, and kissing along his jaw to his lips. The priest's mouth tastes sweet, flavored by the berry drinks he had sampled earlier. "I want to see you relaxed, too," Pallas murmurs, his eyes half-lidded.

Telurin helps him, lowering his head to catch Pallas's lips with his own, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as they meet.

"I am relaxed, Pallas." He chuckles when they part, and it's true, he is as relaxed as he'd ever be in the open, and his movements are easy and sure as he holds his Anchorite and looks out onto the water. "Though I think you mean you wish to see me intoxicated. Do you think that is wise, Pallas?"

Pallas smiles faintly, his eyes still dilated and unfocused. He presses forward for more light kisses, nibbling the death knight's chin tendrils. He strokes one of them with a hand, lightly trailing his fingers. "I don't know what you would be like drunk," he mumbles. "You might be a sad drunk."

"I am." He says with all the seriousness he can muster with his very tiny and cute Anchorite nibbling on his tendrils. They curl around Pallas's own, and he rests his crest against Pallas's horns.

"I am both relaxed and happy, little one." He says, reaching for the bottle of blackberry liqueur. "Though I do not think one bottle will be enough to make me maudlin." He cracks the seal on the neck of the bottle, removing the cork, and takes a swallow of the smooth and sweet liqueur, savoring the burn as it travels down his throat.  

Pallas hums against Telurin, joy percolating inside him when he hears the death knight tell him that he is relaxed and happy. He makes a surprised sound that transitions into a soft moan when the other man's tendrils wrap around his. He tended to forget Telurin could do that, being unable to move his tendrils in the same fashion himself.

Tel moves his face away to sample the drink. The priest smiles at him, then takes his other hand, trying to unfasten the gauntlet with a frown. He's too intoxicated to remove it easily.

Telurin lets him fumble with the catches for a moment, but takes it away to do it himself when Pallas looks to be getting frustrated, removing both the gauntlet he was working on and its twin and setting them aside.

"Already trying to get me out of this, hmm?" He chuckles, tapping his plate.

Pallas takes hold of one of Telurin's bare hands. He turns it around and kisses the other man's knuckles and the bones of his fingers. //I didn't get to touch you, that other time,// he sends, helpfully including a mental image of their last intimate session.

“Mm…” Telurin makes a pleased sound at the memory and at the feel of Pallas’s lips on his knuckles. “That was the point, my dear.”

The death knight uses his free hand to trace down the side of Pallas’s face and down one tendril, watching the other draenei for his reaction. It’s just now beginning to be evening, and there’s still enough light to see by in their little grotto, filtered through the new leaves of the willow tree above them.