#I like drawing things like little mildly colored doodles/art when I get the chance

[canisbeasts-ooc]

What these two have been up to for the past while:

[wafflesandkruge]

One Early Morning in Os Alta

Nikolai accidentally drinks one of David's experiments and becomes obsessed with solving the mystery that is Zoya Nazyalensky. The Triumvirate is his most unwilling audience as he attempts to piece together where she goes at night with nothing but his caffeine-fueled brain and a chalkboard.

Written for the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! Thank you so much to the amazing @kolarpem (x) and @denndrawings​ (x) who created beautiful art for this fic 🥺 ❤️  

ao3

In their three short years of marriage, Genya and David had developed a morning routine. David, eager to get to the labs early so he could have the room to himself, would wake at the crack of dawn like clockwork and share a few sleepy kisses with her before getting on his way. After a few more hours of much-needed beauty sleep, Genya would commandeer some breakfast and find him tinkering away at whatever project Nikolai had put him to. It was a comfortable rhythm, a familiar constant in their otherwise hectic lives.

But today, Genya was just drifting off to sleep again after being woken by her husband when the door to their bedroom slammed open to reveal a very disheveled David. His glasses were slightly more askew than usual and his kefta rumpled. Genya let out a small yawn.

“David? What’s wrong?”

“There has been a development.” He didn’t elaborate further as he strode over to their wardrobe and pulled out her kefta. She tugged it over her head without question and followed him sleepily out of the room. They’d been together long enough that she’d learned not to try to get him to elaborate. He’d either clam up for hours trying to find the right words or talk in circles trying to fully explain a very easily explainable situation. Only the Saints knew what it was this time. She just hoped it was something easily resolvable so she could go back to sleep. Perhaps a puppy running loose in the labs, or an Inferni who’d burned off their eyebrows and wanted her to Tailor them back. Simple things.

But instead of the labs, David pulled her into Nikolai’s bedroom and Genya knew it was going to be a long day. Tamar and Tolya were already seated on a sofa, both with their arms crossed and similar scowls on their faces. Zoya was absent. And Nikolai was animatedly scribbling on a large blackboard that had been wheeled to the front of the room, “ZOYA NAZYALENSKY” scrawled at the top in large letters and circled three times for emphasis. The rest of the board was covered in near incomprehensible writing and doodles.

Genya frowned as David pulled her down into the seat next to him. “Did you steal that from the Little Palace, Nikolai? How will the children learn?”

Her king didn’t answer. He seemed busy working on a doodle of what looked like a five legged tiger on a corner of the board. David patted her hand absentmindedly as he opened his notebook and started scribbling as well.

“Is anyone going to explain this to me?” Genya asked mildly as Tolya slid a cup of tea towards her. She supposed the Triumvirate had seen worse, and their king acting like a man possessed didn’t rank particularly high on their list, but she still didn’t appreciate being woken up early for this. If anything, the twins should have just knocked him out and then everyone could get their well deserved rest.

Tamar crossed her arms. Her short hair stuck up in every direction as if she’d just rolled out of bed. “Well, your genius husband over there,” she starts, her tone not quite complimentary, “was working on one of his little experiments again.”

Genya nodded distractedly as she removed a small mirror from the inside of her sleeve. David took it from her obediently and held it up as she began Tailoring away the dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t a substitute for her lost sleep, but it’d have to do for now.

“Coffee with a mild strain of parem in it for an extra stimulant,” David explained as she moved on to bringing more color into her cheeks. “Since you’re always complaining about the Little Palace’s coffee leaving you groggier than before.”

Genya’s hands stilled as she offered David a small smile. Even after knowing him for this long, his kindness never failed to surprise her. “That’s lovely, dear. But how does that relate to Nikolai acting like...this?”

Both of them jumped when Nikolai let out a rather concerning cackle. He had moved on from the deformed tiger to a caricature of someone who looked alarmingly like General Pensky. Genya scanned the board, barely able to decipher his scribbling. Secret lover...treason...illicit rendezvous? She furrowed her brows.

Tolya glowered at them from his spot next to his sister. “Nikolai drank David’s experiment. And now he refuses to administer the antidote because he wants to observe his behavior for the sake of science.”

“That’s not strictly true,” David said as he handed the mirror back to Genya and picked up his pencil again. “I don’t have an antidote ready. Instead of taking the time and labor to manufacture one, we might as well just wait for it to wear off naturally.”

Tolya opened his mouth again to argue, but then a piece of chalk flew by, barely missing Genya’s nose. Nikolai slammed his hands on the table and her tea splashed out of its cup. 

All four of their heads turned towards their king. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair wild, and a distinctly unhinged look in his eyes. His jacket was tied around his shoulders like a cape. It had to be the worst Genya has ever seen him, though there had been that time when Kirigin had convinced him to do a few shots of that whiskey from the Wandering Isles and he’d been convinced he was a saint—

“Friends!” His voice was entirely too loud for the intimate setting. “I have gathered you here today to solve one of our most pressing problems.”

“Our empty coffers?” Genya asked with a yawn.

“Impending war on three fronts?” offered Tolya.

“My brother’s incurable love for five hour poetry recitations?” 

David continued silently taking notes in his book.

“No,” Nikolai declared with an empathetic shake of his head, “we’re here to discuss the mystery of...Zoya Nazyalensky.”

He stepped to the side and for the first time, Genya was able to see the entirety of the blackboard he’d been writing on. Not a single inch of it had been spared from his rather enthusiastic scrawl and doodles like he was preparing to give them the world’s most fascinating lecture on the enigma that was Zoya. Genya felt a headache incoming.

“Perhaps we could do this at a more reasonable hour,” she began, but Nikolai smacked his hand against the blackboard which sent up a giant cloud of chalk dust.

“Nonsense! There’s no time like the present, and Zoya is away so it’s the perfect time to speculate upon her true intentions.” He waved his arm towards a bullet point at the top of the board, but in his eagerness, nearly knocked the entire board over. Genya let out another yawn and sank back into the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she dozed off.

“Where does she go at night?” Nikolai demanded as he began pacing furiously. The papers pinned to the board fluttered in his wake. “About once a week or so, the palace guards tell me she’s seen walking on the grounds late at night, alone. She’s almost certainly meeting with someone. But who? And why?”

“Are you sure you don’t have an antidote?” she whispered to David.

“Positive.” He scratched his ear, a sure sign he was lying. Genya sighed. She supposed she’d have him make it up to her later. She knew better than to talk him out of one of science moods. 

“A lover!” Nikolai continued. “She has a secret lover!”

Genya knew for a fact Zoya had no one in her heart other than their king as much as she liked pretending she hated him and his entire existence. In her own opinion, it probably had something to do with the very expensive gifts Nikolai routinely offered because Zoya was nothing if not a creature of luxury. Still, she took a sip of her tea and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do go on.”

“At first I thought it was General Pensky, but he’s been stationed at the border for over a month and the night walks haven’t stopped. So that leaves no other option than…” Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. He executed a sloppy about-face that any army commander would have had him running laps for and pointed an accusing finger at Tolya. “You’re Zoya’s secret lover!”

Tolya frowned and crossed his arms. “I would rather go back to Novyi Zem and become a jurda farmer. Less chance of sudden death.”

Nikolai grabbed at his hair. “But if you’re not seeing Zoya...and Tamar isn’t– you’re not right?”

“I’m married, Nikolai.”

“Right, right, right,” he muttered. He turned back to look at his board. “Then there’s only one other answer.”

“We all go back to bed?” Genya suggested.

Nikolai turned to her, an oddly intense look in his eyes. “How could you suggest we all retire when Zoya is plotting against the throne?”

Genya blinked. “How exactly did you get there?”

“It all makes sense!” Nikolai babbled excitedly. He waved his arms in excitement. “The late night walks. The secrecy. Why she’s always so mean to me—”

“She’s mean to everyone,” Tamar interjected.

“She’s working with the Fjerdans! Or the Shu! Of course, I should have seen it from the start…”

Genya tuned him out again as he went back to drawing on the board while muttering to himself about how the Fjerdan’s diabolical plan to have Zoya seduce him was working too well. She put her head on David’s shoulder and focused on the page of notes he was working on. Except instead of notes, it was a sketch of a woman’s face. Her face. As she watched, his pencil scratched out the curve of her lips, one corner lifted in a half smile. “What are you doing, dear?”

“Studying something beautiful,” he answered without a moment of hesitation. 

Genya’s lips curled into a smile as she let her eyes shut. “You’re sweet today. Maybe we should let Nikolai poison himself more often.”

“There’s a seventy percent chance his heart would give out if we attempted this more than once a week.”

“Regicide,” Genya said with a sigh, “How romantic.”

[topazshadowwolf]

Soriel Week Day 2: Colors

I had another idea and then while I was at church Sunday this suddenly came to mind and I just had to write it. I’ll keep the other and use it for another day or something since it was good. 

A colorful day

Sans sat on the couch waiting for Tori to arrive. On the TV was some show with colorful ponies off on some adventure. It wasn’t a bad show, but he still just couldn’t get into it, unlike the two children sitting beside him. They were glued to the show even though it was clear they were tired and needed a nap. His current jobless status made him an idle last-minute babysitter for Undyne and Alphys, who both had to go to work.

He should really stop Papyrus from answering the door or phone before 10 in the morning. Nothing good can come from a phone call followed by a doorbell ring at 7 in the morning. So far his day has been entertaining two wiggly kids, monitoring their fevers, and trying to figure out what he could feed them that they will actually eat and not throw up later. They had been to the doctor yesterday, had notes, and Papyrus had volunteered Sans to watch the two again tomorrow.

oh, joy…

Not that they were bad kids, most of the time they were actually very well behaved. Just they both can take after Undyne at random times, which is fun when Papyrus is around to help watch them. Even if one is adopted, they still both can go from being good kids to being overly energetic and dangerous to anything mildly breakable within five feet of them. Luckily, being sick, this was not a likelihood, but it was still possible knowing them.

Soft snoring beside him and a weight on his side told him that his plan of having them watch TV till they finally fell asleep worked. Good. Sick children need sleep and he could finally get up and change out of his pajamas before Tori arrived. When he texted her his predicament this morning she said she’d be over after work. He had a few more hours, but who knew when these kids would wake up and start causing trouble.

He moved carefully to grab the remote from the hand of the one leaning on him, the eldest and adopted ferret monster, Archie. The little girl, Luna, who looked more like a small blue Alphys with fangs, was cuddled against her brother, hugging him like he was a teddy bear. It was a cute scene and he didn’t want to disturb it. He turned the TV off and set the remote carefully to the side. Now it was just a matter of slipping a pillow under Archie as he got up.

As he began to get up, the boy's arms moved around Sans’ middle. That complicated things, by a lot. Kids can sleep deep but, he really didn’t want to risk disrupting the two. Well… he did have a few hours before Tori will arrive, in that time he could just read one of the car magazines on the light stand next to him until the kids move enough he could get free, or time runs out enough that he gives in and moves them himself. He started in on one article but the soft, sleepy breathing beside him was getting to him. His normal sleep schedule had been disrupted as well, with the early phone call followed by the doorbell. This all made his eye sockets feel heavy and he was struggling to keep them open.

Well… he should have time for a nap, besides, the kids are sleeping and don’t need an eye socket on them.

Something poking his skull woke him up, and he found that Luna was sitting on his chest with a big smile and her paws behind her back. At some point, Archie had moved from beside him and had gotten out the coloring book and markers his parents had packed for him and his sister. At least they were quietly doing that when they woke up and saw him sleeping. The book out on the table, pages half colored as both children had stopped to wake him for some reason. But, he could see the pictures were of that popular anime with the kids and the fighting animals that change as they get stronger.

“Aunt Toriel is at the door,” Archie said while pointing at the front door.

Sans sat up, catching a giggling Luna before she could roll off his chest and fall to the floor. His mind started putting back the pieces of what was going on before he fell asleep. Looking down, he was still in the blue pajamas with snails all over it that Tori had bought him on a whim. Well, at least she’ll know he wears it. He set Luna down on the floor and stood up. “alright, thanks for letting me know. i’ll get the door.”

“Mum said we can’t answer the door without an adult knowing,” Archie stated in his matter of fact tone. “Momma” was the usual word he used for Alphys, with “Mum” being Undyne. It did seem odd that Undyne was the rule teacher until he remembered that Undyne was in charge of the Royal Guard before. She knew and understood rules and their importance.

Both kids joined him at the door as he opened it, and they both quickly ran out to hug Tori before the door was even fully opened. He could hear Tori’s giggle as she greeted the children with a, “Well, hello to you two as well. What a wonderful greeting. I hope you are feeling better and I trust you haven’t been giving your Uncle Sans too much…” She paused as she looked at him. At first, her expression was surprised, but then a smile grew that she struggled to hold back.

“sorry about the pajamas, they were here before i had a chance to get dressed and i've, uh... been busy since.”

“We were coloring!” Luna happily announced while reaching up for Tori’s paw, standing on her little toes to do so.

“Oh, yes, I can see that,” Tori said, the smile becoming unrestrained. “I can see that Sans has become quite the colorful character.”

The pun clicked into place and Sans sighed as Tori handed him a mirror from her purse. Sure enough, there were colorful doodles all over his face, from some sort of four-legged creatures (most likely the ponies from the show they were just watching) to random shapes. “Come along children,” Tori said as she then ushered the children into the house, “let’s get back to coloring, but this time, let’s not color on Sans.”

The rest of the children’s stay went well. Tori knew more about tending sick children than he did, and was able to figure out what to give them far quicker when it came to food. By the time Undyne and Alphys were there to pick the two up, they were fed and ready to get into bed the moment they got home.

Sans and Tori then went to the kitchen to finally wash his face. They didn’t want to wash off the drawings while the kids were still there, as it just felt wrong at the time. But, as Tori began to scrub the marker off, she had a worried expression. It was the “Oh, dear…” that sealed what he suspected.

“let me guess, i’ll be feeling blue for a while?” he asked.

“That’s one way to put it,” Tori replied with a giggle, “I hope your brother won’t be green with envy.”

“knowing him, he will be disappointed he missed out on being art,” Sans sighed, knowing that was something he’ll have to deal with. He then grinned up at Tori, “orange you glad i didn’t yell-ow.” Tori laughed at his puns and he chuckled along with her.

“I will say,” she started as she got control of her laugh enough to speak, “I was happy you weren’t seeing red and was rather tickled pink seeing you like that.”

Sans chuckled again, though the way she was looking at him, an adoring expression on her face, made him blush a little. Tori made it worse by teasingly trying to wash it off. “Oh dear,” she said, “it seems there is now even more color than before.” When all Sans could do was chuckle she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I’m sorry dear, that wasn’t exactly fair.”

“that’s alright, tori. i don’t mind,” He grinned while leaning against her.

They stayed like that for a while before Tori noticed the time. “That late already? I suppose I should be going so I can pick up Frisk from their week at Asgore’s and get them to bed.” Tori said as she let him go.

“i’m supposed to have the two again tomorrow, want to stop by with frisk? you two can stay the night if you want, papyrus has been wanting to spend more time with frisk anyway.”

Tori clapped her paws together and smiled big. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. And I azure you that with more time tomorrow I can get more of those colors off your face.”

They laughed and shortly after Tori made her way out the door. As her van pulled away, she waved back at him as he waved in return, he couldn’t help but be thankful his bro did answer the phone and door in the early morning. Things on the surface just seemed to turn out that way… hopefully, it continues...

[squarecarousel]

Interview with Jordan Johnson

It’s been a been a while since we did any new interviews, so I’m excited that the joining of new members is giving me a chance again! First up is Jordan Johnson, who focuses on environment and character concept art. Jordan’s work is detail-oriented and all-encompassing of the viewer’s imagination. As one steps into the worlds created in his illustrations, his understanding of lighting, mood, and space leaves the viewer wanting more. Want to know about his process? Keep reading in our interview, below:

“R71″

Q: Jordan, your work very efficiently captures specific moods, and oftentimes it's eerie, dark or mysterious. A viewer can get lost, and imaginations are free to roam in these worlds, using your little visual hints throughout each painting. Do you find yourself creating back-stories to these illustrations? What do you believe is most important, when capturing worlds both real and fake? 

A: Thanks! A lot of my work is dark, but I like doing bright, happy, over the top stuff too. I like the extreme ends, I'm able to wring more energy out that way. And yeah, I definitely try to think of some narrative for most of my work. I find that a bit of backstory really helps bring life into a piece. The viewer doesn't need to know exactly what the story is, but just seeing that there could be one is often enough to lend a lot of depth. That's something I wish I saw more often in art these days, especially digital painting. There's a ton of really good technical stuff where you can tell the artists have skill, but a lot of it blends together and doesn't stand out because it's just...that picture. There's nothing behind it. The ones with odd little bits that allow you to string a narrative through though, those stick with you way more.

“Cabin by the Woods”

Q: Explain your process, from start to finish. 

A: Usually I'll do a couple of thumbnails or comps in the ol' sketchbook. I don't know why I still do that, I've done lots of thumbnails way faster digitally. Pencil feels better I guess. Once I have one I like, I put it into photoshop as a multiply layer and start painting underneath it. I usually do a value study first, but if I'm feeling confident I'll go straight to color. Big brushes and shapes first, then little ones for little details later. Lots of layers. When I like it, I flatten it and play with curves and levels to see if I can make it look better without repainting the whole damn thing. Then it's done and I'm usually super happy with it for a few days. Then weeks go by and I usually decide I hate it and forget about it. Rinse, repeat. Q: What is your greatest inspiration? 

A: I'm not sure if I can really define it. It's like this internal well that reaches back to my childhood. A lot of my favorite work has a fantastic, romantic quality to it, both mine and other artists'. Not necessarily childlike, but certainly imaginative and free, maybe even primal. I guess I associate that feeling with youth. I think I have a bit of a Peter Pan complex going, but maybe that's a healthy thing for an artist to have. Childlike wonder and curiosity is really good for finding great reference material, putting a piece together, and connecting dots that other people might not. I love seeing work where you can tell the artist really enjoyed making it, and I think they have the same sort of well. Somehow you can tell. 

“B-29s at Sunset”

Q: Tell us about a struggle that made your love of illustration stronger. 

A: Every piece is a struggle. For every painting I finish, there are probably three or four sitting on my desk or hard drive unfinished or given up on. And that's fine. The struggle is what makes the work better, and sometimes you figure out that a piece isn't worth the investment midway through. I'm my own worst critic, so every piece I finish is a victory. It means I'm happy enough to stop working and proud enough to keep it around. Trying to get to that point again with a better piece is what keeps me studying and drawing. 

Q: What would your ideal studio space look like? 

A: Oh man. It wouldn't be a studio so much, more like a workshop. I'd get a big space with a couple of rooms. One big open one with lots of light, big power tools, paint, building supplies, and a loud stereo. Probably a drumset. I really enjoy making things, not just paintings. Then a creepy smaller room that I can keep dark for my digital work. 

“B-Wing VS TIE Interceptor” Q: Some artists enjoy sketching for the sake of sketching, and some feel that when art is a job, they're too creatively drained to doodle. What are your thoughts on sketchbooks? 

A: They work for some people and not for others. I really enjoy doodling though. Some days I don't draw at all. Some days I open it because I feel obligated to fill a page and a drawing just falls out of my brain and it sucks, but that's okay. It's just a sketchbook and you're one page closer to finishing it. Some days it really feels good though. I often like my sketches WAY more than any finished painting. They tend to have a certain fluid life of their own that dries up when you try to render them. I'm probably more loose and free and less concerned about a pretty finished product that I have to show off. Sketchbooks are fun. 

Q: If you had to choose between doing character or environment concept design for the rest of your career, and could never do the other again, which would you pick, and why? 

A: Oh boy. That's a tough one. I think I'm better at characters now, but I'd love to be super good at environments. Environments I guess, if I had to choose. I can always put some characters in there for flavor. 

“Little Metal Goblin Guy”

Q: Would you rather be a dragon, or have a dragon? 

A: Have one. For sure. I'd fly around on it, cook dinner with it, probably get a really lucrative reality TV deal and then hoard all the money with it... 

Q: I'm having too much fun with these, so you get another: Would you rather live life knowing *when* you would die, or live life knowing *how* you would die? 

A: How. If I knew when, I'd be in a constant panic attack trying to do everything I could before then. But if I knew how, I'd just avoid that situation. Like if it was death by carousel for instance, I'd tender my resignation immediately. 

Q: What would we be most surprised to learn about you, as an artist?

A: I'm mildly colorblind. 

Jordan hiding in his studio cave Q: Anything else you would like the readers to know? 

A: I had this all transcribed as I was sitting in a very lovely bubble bath. Want to see more of Jordan’s work? Check out his website here!