#control fanart

[nova-asker]

saw the reference picture going around, immediately thought of Jesse Faden (Control)

[virgil-630]

Hissing noises in the hallway

Bloodshot eyes, staring through, what seeds are sown?

Who'll survive the blood red power play?

Who'll take control, whose name will be known?

The gestalt of 2019 is finally closed hah

Tip Commission info

[okidoki-artichoki]

my bestie Ahti the janitor <3

I’ve been replaying Control and I just needed to get this out of my system because this game is so cool :))

[divvy-div-art]

this was mildly funnier in my head

[cloudyotter]

What jesse does with her director powers

[mulletsg]

There's a storm coming.

[mistysblueboxstuff]

finally painted Jesse :')

[magnetic-regent-magneto]

-- mun ||: Edit of CONTROL (Remedy) I did for my desk decoration!

[mossflavouredbaby]

~ It's Funky Day ~

Follow me @mossflavouredbaby on Instagram or @mossflavourbaby on Twitter if you want :))

[exsofa]

big fan of this bunch

[machines-art-shenanigans]

It snowed today so drew little winter Darling (I'm normal I swear)

[nova-asker]

Jesse is passing by with her new find (trying to figure out how to draw Arish and Pope and its HARD)

[virgil-630]

A lil warm-up befor biger piece

Tip Commission info

[ineedmoredragons]

Art practice in the style of Alphonse Mucha of Jesse Faden.

Mixed media on paper. Size is 8" × 10".

[spartanjames-bootsfirst-art]

The Director, 6 years on.

Quiet in the House.

Simon dropped his Lewis gun, with it a weight he'd been carrying for years. The weapon clattered against the cold concrete. He doubled over, hands on his knees, propping his body up.

This was it. It should be it. One last push against the Hiss. Against the invaders. Every last person capable of still carrying a weapon from Security of the Rangers were here.

How long had it been? Five? Six years, at least.

But now it was about to be over. He watched as the Director approached the last Hiss.

It was wounded, babbling the same Dadaist nonsense they had since the lockdown started.

Just plastic,

So, safe and nothing to worry about.

Ha ha, funny.

The last egg breaks now.

It didn't try to fight, it didn't try to run.

It just stared at her from where it lay on the ground.

The Director raised her Service Weapon, its amorphous, geometric form finding its shape. She trained the barrel on the head of the Hiss. She paused.

Simon knew what she was doing. A final farewell to a person it once was. One she never had the opportunity to meet. It was her ritual, and rituals held power here.

Some of the assembled Security Officers and Rangers bowed their heads in silence with her. Others silently wept; in relief, in anger, in all of the emotions they’d held back these last few years.

Simon didn't bother with farewells. Not for them. Not anymore.

[cloudyotter]

Trench speaking to Jesse through the hotline