🝤 unfortunate mage ◐

me without words and lines and thoughts and colors.

have come to dread being online, but lore bits, writing scraps, and crumbs of art are one small way to assert my existence to myself. words and lines differentiate me from a traumatized animal. words and lines and thoughts and colors.

illsvale (the kingdom, not the family quarter its named after) has seen many uses for him as carnifex both living and dead. he work as an inquisitor was renowned, his name often enough to drive confession. all in service to his sacred beliefs, his concept of duty. but he prays alone.

he surrendered himself to something so ephemeral and now is bound eternally. between his familial blood and the pact with death, he is limited in life's splendors. no sunlight, is tethered to a radius where bodies prepared by illsvalian hands are entombed, needs to wet his blade to have a body, etc.

she allowed him some privileges others did not have — he was allowed a rougher hand, more severe dominance. she enjoyed his company, but she never loved him the same way he loved her. his obsessions were too singular, and that was something she only reserved for the stars and no one person.

the most tragic aspect of ailred is that though he forfeited his life in service to dame ruina, it was just years before her death and even within those their intimacy was scant. she was ailing, and had other lovers and prophecies to tend to. he's death's servant and blade with no succor.

by the bane of my blade, a mighty spell is made and
far beyond the battle blood shall fall like a hard rain

and a vampire. what more could one ask for.

sixty or seventy-something year old transgender knight in my files.

ailred, again.

A painting set in a round-ish ornate brass frame with scrolls and cherubs. The painting depicts a woman in vaguely religious dress, looking up in feverish reverence with hands folded in prayer. Black tentacles are seen wrapping around her arms, shoulders and peeking out from the neck of her scarf, partially covering her face.

Devotion

Acrylic on board

IL DECAMERON (1971) dir: Pier Paolo Pasolini

telling my cats, "he would like you" as I show them the pictures so they have a better grasp on comfort derived from the imaginary

showing my cats pictures of my original characters so they have a better grasp on my interiority and creative agency

obfuscating my est location by saying "goodmorning" no matter the time of day

we also say goodmorning in the afternoon.

goodmorning, wednesday. today we recognize our capacity for growth and change and keep improving together.

your style is so good, it reminds me of faerie and folk artists : so lovely 🖤

That night when Toad went to bed he thought the biggest thoughts that he could think.

來畫點不一樣的東西🦴

oc

you put a lot a love and warmth into the world and the fictional worlds you touch. you deserve all the hearths you've found to rest by 🖤

your gesture work and line movement is always good but it’s especially good here, especially in the fall and weight of the clothing!

Includes toothbrush, tongue scraper, tooth-pick (small brush on the other end), tooth powder container, scent bottle, and a brush to flick powder off the lapels. All are mounted on mother of pearl and silver gilt framework with shields. All held in a fitted red Morocco leather–covered cased with gilt decoration and a mirror inside the lid.

This mother-of-pearl set of French design includes a toothbrush, tongue scraper, toothpick with a small brush at one end, tooth powder container, scent bottle, and a brush to flick powder off the lapels. These beautifully designed and made items have never been used.

thinking about original characters wringing eachother dry of their bodily fluids !

⭐︎

bug

Come to me / #nosferatu

goodmorning, tuesday. today we feel funny and act funnier in spite of it.