Sketches (April.19.2010)

Julian Kain & Sable Astraveras
(Julian trial 1 -with Sable foreground-)

--My first attempt at drawing Sarah's OC. We buffed out his design together last Sunday at STC and I've been trying ever since. T_T

He could smell the fires from miles away; the flash of light, the screeches alerted him to the sudden, pacing danger he could feel clump in his throat.
The Nosferatu, the Courtesans, the humans stayed away. The fire was sudden and strange with only falling debris causing damage, and his deep eyes scanned the destruction and the people with clenched tension. Anybody sane enough stayed away; Julian leapt ahead.

Where was she? It must have been her. His innards twisted inside of him with dread, knowing full well that fire meant something happened to the Astraveras family.

And there, so far, so small, he saw her.

As fast as he could, he careened off of the tower of the building he gripped, face paler than it could ever be. She was wandering with blood streaming down from her throat, tears running down her cheeks, her hair in wild disarray. The little girl was shaking with pain, and he could smell the fire on her, in her. And her wings, oh her beautiful, jade-gossamer wings, they were black and crumbling away as soot from her tiny, tiny body, as if they had been burnt away.

She uttered a terrified cry when she saw him; he saw a flash of sharp, sharp teeth. She clawed at her shoulders, clawed at her face, fell on her knees and shook. He realized, too late, breathing in the scent of blood cloaking her, that almost all of it was Marissa's.

Julian's heart broke. "Isabella," he breathed, slowly edging closer. "Sable Astraveras, do you recognize me? I'm Mariss-- I'm your Mommy's friend. Remember me?"

"Uncle Julian," she moaned, but her voice was strange to him. It sounded like it was hoarse from hours of screaming, scratchy like broken glass. He saw the crusted wound on her neck, the strange dilating of her eyes, how thin she suddenly became. "Julian-- my mommy, she..."

He hurried to her without waiting another second. The little girl--shivering, frightened, changed--let him hoist her up, let him rub her back and hold her close, let him whisper worthless comforts as she wept.


---

Pensive Julian
(Practice no. 2)

---Both of these were done mostly on the bus... I like this one significantly better. God I love candles and long hair... :D might colour this...

My lord...

His thoughts ran wild and amok when he couldn't sleep--he seldom could, so those torturous memories would replay over and over behind his thin eyelids. Julian paused, quill hovering over the parchment as his eyes strained in the orange light of the candles, and he stared deep into the flames, breathing in the acrid smell of ink.

On that night, he let his hair down--so to speak. He discarded Victoria's bracelets and necklace, he draped the cape on the post of the large bed, and he took the time to write. The sentimental notion of recording his days never left him ever since he learned how to use quill and ink on paper, so he let the habit stay, and visited it frequently.

"Julian?"

He turned, abruptly, shattered from his reverie. Sable stood at his door, feet peeking out from the nightdress she was wearing, face and knuckles white as she gripped the wood. When did she come in? Julian chided himself for losing awareness, and stood, turning to face her.

He greeted her with a warm smile, eyes a swirling green. He abandoned the quill, striding over to the door and kneeling to her height, and his smile melted away.

They stared at one another. "Sable," he said, with a slight frown, suddenly aware of his state of undress. He wondered why she looked so troubled and awake at such a late hour.

"...Nightmare..." he barely heard her whimper out before she started to sniffle.

---

Mock Oranges

Who's eyes fill with bloodless light?
Who takes pain with sharp delight?
Who prays, quiet with demon's bite?
Stoking fires, heart alight?
Who loved Mania, sweet and bright?
Saved Hysteria, mirroring night?
Who built Panic, harrowing sight?
Shaped her Terror, taking flight?
She, the dark you cannot blight
She, the dark with terrifying might...
Pandora



--I love drawing Pandora. Her hair and her eyes and her expression are always fun to practice with. No practice here, really; just wanted to draw her.