#oc:Hal

[screbelbaziu]

I'm releasing my first long comic, printed, this weekend at the Warszawskie Targi Fantastyki this weekend!

since I only post in english here I'll keep this brief - the comic is written in polish and only available in Print for now. I have plans for an online release and english version, buuut you'll have to wait for that. and I will have to come up with a whole new title, as Nowe Oczko w Głowie (lit. "new eye in the head") loses some meaning in translation.

[ketelarts]

[snoutbleed]

sören heinrich — relationships

[Art by PYRY]

[ndnp-art-ct3]

These are all the Allseers. In order from right to left, top to bottom, their names are Zephryn Darang, Landon Xantharo, Joshua Walker, Azul Saphra, Perl Tress, Szoto Apdaros, Hal Adas, Crimson Satcher, and Abby Sweets.

They all work together to manage Selicaric-based Wizardry at the top level.

Rambling and extra images under the cut!

Zephryn is the founder of Selicaric-based Wizardry, and is the top-of-the-top. They have the ability to shapeshift into anyone, taking both their appearance and voice, but it's not something they control. They turn into whoever's closest to them. The only way to tell them apart from someone else is the hat they wear, specifically just so people can tell them apart. They're close friends with Tamishi. Also, they're Australian.

Landon is a rock. He has the ability to possess people in a short radius of him, but he doesn't have a body to call his own. He can't move or communicate outside of possession. He usually keeps to himself, and he doesn't really like to take advantage of others, which makes his possession business really uncomfortable for him. Luckily, he has a friend he lives with who's fine with being possessed. (It's Crimson) He communicates with her by using a voice recorder. First, he possesses her and records himself speaking through her, plays it back, then immediately stops possessing her. That way, they can talk to each other. His brother is Harold.

Joshua is a Very Huge guy. He could grab an entire person with one hand. He's a very polite Southern man. He deeply loves his friends, but most of all, he loves his boyfriend Isaac Key. He has the ability to bring inanimate objects to life around him, just by talking to them, but he doesn't fully control this power. So things just come to life around him. He lives in a little rural house (little to him, at least) in the middle of a big field.

Azul is a little British-accented box car guy. He has quite a bit of bad luck, that constantly kills him. Though that is a pretty bad inconvenience, he does come back to life immediately. While all the Allseers are immortal, it does take a process to bring them back if they die. With Azul, no process is needed, it's just immediate. He has a pretty negative outlook on life because of this, but he tries not to bring other people down, so he tries to look positive despite that. Tries. He lives in a log cabin surrounded by snow, with his housemate Oxi Laike, who helps him clean off blood if he dies in the house. His magic is colored navy blue, and his wand is a car key.

Perl is a soul-possessed robot who has the ability to float everywhere she goes. She's generally pretty stern, but understanding. Her limbs are disconnected from her body, and can also float anywhere. However, she doesn't actually control her arms and legs. They actually have a mind of their own. Jav is Perl's red right arm. He's generally pretty irritable. He communicate by mimicking typing. His handwriting is a neat, print style. Paith is Perl's green left arm. They're pretty shy, and they tend to get nervous easily. Their handwriting is cursive. They communicate using one-handed ASL. (Slightly modified, due to having four fingers.)

See is Perl's blue right leg. She's pretty calm and peaceful, not really doing much other than do walking motions for Perl. She communicates through tapping morse code. Hyper is Perl's pink left leg. She's extremely energetic, usually bouncing or tapping if she isn't preoccupied with something. She communicates through a 3x3 tap code.

Szoto is a very low-key guy. He tries to be as calm and gentle towards others as he can be, rarely ever showing any sort of anger. He's an empath, like actually. He can feel the emotions of people around him, as well as affect said emotions. At the same time, those emotions can effect him. Which is why he tries to stay calm, even when others are not, because his calmness generally makes other people around him calm as well. Also, there's nothing under that cloak. He is the cloak, and his limbs float in the air. (Though they need to be at least partly inside the cloak.) His limbs are actually hollow too, so one could hide within him if necessary. He's married to Acer Zod.

Hal is a soul-possessed tv head robot. They're generally very They're very popular with magical beings. Well... They have this effect on people affiliated with Selicaric-Based Wizardry. (Basically anyone who practices it, or was created with it.) Essentially, it overwrites their personality, and they see Hal as the coolest person ever, doing anything and everything for them. It wears off as soon as they leave their presence, and they don't retain any memory of it. Hal sees this "power" as more of a curse. They don't enjoy the attention at all, don't like taking advantage of others, and hate the fact that they can't get real conversations from other people a lot of the time. They get around the effect by calling people through a phone, but it's still a huge inconvenience. Luckily, the other Allseers are immune to this power. Their best friend is Cosmo, a giant robot they live inside. Here's Hal with and without the jacket, both front and back.

Crimson is a very energetic, chaotic, and eccentric demon. A very memorable person. Well, not really, due to her memory curse. She can meet a person, have a great experience hanging out with that person, but as soon as she leaves their presence, that person immediately forgets about her. Luckily, her curse has one upside, and it's that she can bring memories back with one tap on the forehead. (Sometimes easier said than done.) In addition, the other Allseers are immune to this curse. She still exists in documentation, so people can know about her. But even so, they forget all of this information when they see her, and then revert back to normal when she leaves, with no memory of her even being there. She doesn't really see this as a big deal, especially since she can just tap people's foreheads whenever she needs to. In fact, she likes to use the curse just to mess with her friends. She has a lot of friends, and she knows a lot of people. It's just that none of those people know her, or at least they don't think they do. Ironically, she has a perfect memory. So she remembers everyone she meets and every experience she has with perfect accuracy, and she's immune to any outside (magical) forces affecting her memory in any way. She lives in her own personal Hellscape (basically demon housing in Hell) with Landon, who she lets possess her whenever he wants. Her longest friendship is with Bunjamin, who she knew before the curse appeared, and was the one who helped her figure out the rules of the curse, as he was the first person to forget her. Here's Crimson stand-sleeping and doing a handstand.

Abby is a very tiny (3 inches, to be exact) bee girl. She's very blunt, and she swears like a fuckin' sailor. (She and Zephryn like to call each other "cunt" as an endearing term) She has the ability to control the motor functions of people around her. She usually uses this on either people she's familiar with, or anyone who fucks with her friends. She's really good at using this power, at least if she's using it on purpose. Unfortunately, she has trouble not using it, because her powers'll often act on their own, depending on her feelings and emotions. So she tends to stay away from any roads or heavy machinery whenever she can. She's best friends with Joshua, despite the huge size and personality difference. She likes to sit on top of his head and move him around. She says it feels like she's controlling a mech.

Here's them on the height chart.

[qugre]

character stuff

[haldenlith]

A conversation, an understanding

More fic’ing, this time with just a conversation between Hal and Eris. Also, we get to see how Hal usually is, when he’s not around Crow or Amanda, or alone with Ghost.

Spoiler: He’d make a great Geralt from the Netflix Witcher series.

Hal was standing, leaning on the railing of a balcony that overlooked the square. In a day of running about, he allowed himself a quiet moment to simply pause. Ghost floated idly next to him, watching the people below, and occasionally making idle chitchat with his Guardian. Behind the helmet, that almost mirror shine, Hal’s eyes came to rest on a familiar Hunter talking with people.

Crow.

He hummed softly, recalling the events.

“Do not torment yourself over another’s struggles.” He turned, to the source of that stern sounding statement. Eris. He hadn’t even heard her approach, which was honestly the usual. He remained silent, returning his attention to the square below, still watching Crow. Eris came to stand next to him, her own three eyes following his gaze. She was one of the select few that seemed to fully understand his silent language of sighs and subtle changes in body language, even when he had his helmet on.

Hal found it both infuriating, in that he couldn’t hide from her, and comforting, in that he had no need to explain himself.

“You care for him, but you must understand that he needs to learn. Pain is, unfortunately, a very efficient teacher.”

“Hmm.” Hal disagreed, his hum sounding his dissatisfaction with her statement.

“You are in no place to teach him. You have wounds of your own that you must tend to.” He felt her eyes on him. He merely growled in response. She was poking at still sore internal wounds, even if it was gentle (for her). Eris inclined her head a bit before returning to watching Crow. “Do you know how he gathered his intel for the PsiOps missions?”

Hal was hesitant to look at her, but when he did, he shifted a bit uncomfortably on his feet. He didn’t know, it seems. He assumed it was just the usual sneaking about and doing reconnaissance, but if she was asking such a question...

“I found him on the Moon. He had thrown himself at the enemy, and died, needlessly. According to his Ghost, that was how he had been on all of his recon missions.” Hal hummed softly, and while it did bother him, something else clicked in his mind. He tilted his head to the side, eyeing Eris in a somewhat confused manner, even if she couldn’t see it (or could she?). How was that any different than him dying repeatedly? Frequently on purpose? Eris shook her head, her hand moving from her stone to grip the “chin” of Hal’s helmet.

“You are different. Your deaths are calculated, hunting for a knowledge that is beyond you, hoping to glance something unknown in the ephemeral space between life, and death.” She pulled her hand back, but let it remain in the air. “Though sometimes, your deaths are born out of tenacity. You do not give up easily.” She tilted her head to the side. “Your thirst for an unknown secret, knowledge... These eyes would suit you.”

Eris actually made Hal snort. This time, he spoke. “I like my two decidedly orange eyes, thanks.” She barely lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He thought, for a moment, he saw her smile. If she had, it was gone in a blink of an eye. Her hand returned to resting on her rock as she turned to look at Crow’s fleeting form as he moved across the square and onward to whatever his destination was.

“Your guilt does nothing for him. His pain, his memories, his mistakes, he will learn from them.”

“I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid and die before that happens.”

“If that was what fate had in store for him, he would already have perished.” She did not wait for Hal’s response to her statement, as she turned and walked away.

Hal did not turn to watch her leave or say anything in parting. He knew it was a pointless gesture. Instead, he went back to quietly people watching, pondering her words.

Idly, he thought that perhaps he should’ve punched Crow a little harder the other day. That idiot.

[hejanic]

baby boy baby to close off the challenge 

check out @/core-queen for more boys!!

prompt list by @/loojii

[flashlighthorns]

fucking msa oc doodle time

[aien]

“Oh,

let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised

and that kind of love

Oh,

let there be damage ensued and tabloid news

and that kind of love."

my boy Hal getting some well-needed love after me not drawing him for literal months is,,, hrm. yes. he is basically a softcore-Hozier don't @ me.

+bonus Hal's goth bf who I have drawn before. not telling who.

[snoutbleed]

Umeya dug into her coat pocket but turned up lint; her interest piqued for a cigarette pack Hale raised in response.

"I'll give you one if you tell me more about why you're really here," he teased, smiling in premature celebration.

"For the work you did earlier, that information is due." Umeya yielded for tobacco. The fox also took an ember from him, and her answers went up in smoke. "You've seen my boss: Dietrich, black goat. Officials like him want information on the Spandau case since your department hasn't made much progress."

The elk's friendly expression melted off his face. "Your boss sounds awfully busy for a visit, much less a phone call. I can't believe he has to send someone to say our department isn't doing good enough while we're chasing ghosts around the clock." He shook his head. "As you've seen, not even the experts have answers for the killings."

"Strange, there's more to this than you know - like it was swept under the rug." Umeya spat smoke at Hale's face. The fox's gaze, callous and unyielding, intersected scorn piercing through nicotine fog.

She continued, "suppose I'm here to clean up someone's muck."

[snoutbleed]

It bothered Sören when the press gathered in the hallways. The conference room existed for a reason, but it looks like no one could get enough of the chief inspector’s promises to the public.

Sören swam up the river of cameras and microphones pointed towards the regal elk. Once he met the bank of the crowd, he froze before a fox with golden knives for eyes. Everyone had expectation written on their faces, but disappointment was spelled out on this one’s narrow brow.

The boar’s heart skipped a beat in the presence of that hostile look. He couldn’t shake off that stare like the eyes stared at him directly. Meanwhile, his aching chest reminded him it was rude to break eye contact, so he kept still, studying this pearly white fox.

He noted the gaunt features outlining the fox’s face - sharp as the suit she wore. If looks could kill, the fox slaughters.

”According to a witness in the Spandau incident from last Tuesday, the victim was gang-affiliated,” a journalist piped up. “This has occured the third time this month - are these incidents related?”

After Hale paid his reassurance, the media wrote down the dismissal and then resumed questioning. In the noise, Sören swore he barely picked up a grunt from the fox.

“This have something to do with me?” the fox asked, her voice firm and gravelly.

Sören opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. “You look like you saw a ghost. After all, people are so eager to jump at them nowadays.”

[snoutbleed]

Meaning was lost in his mantra.

Sören lost count of the apologies he gave while swimming through the crowd.

He couldn't even call it an apology; it was only used to politely usher people out of his way.

The boar waded up a river of cameras and recording equipment, flowing toward a pair of antlers towering over everyone. Inquisitive eyes focused on a sharply-dressed elk in the center.

Many waited with pencils hovering over paper. One individual threw a question before a baritone answer sent the pencils dashing.

Everyone was packed together like sardines in a tin to witness the Chief Inspector, all the while Sören struggled with tunneling to the other side of the room.

In the meantime, he noted the crowd moving to the elk's call.

”According to a witness in the Spandau incident last Tuesday, the perpetrator matched the description of a missing person,” one journalist piped up. “This has occurred the third time this month—are these instances related?”

The boar mouthed, "we're looking into it." The elk's voice came out his mouth. Like music to his ears, but lyrics known by how often he heard this song and dance from his boss.

That time, however, the pencils were frozen like a quote never came—the press wasn't moved.

[snoutbleed]

Sören nodded approvingly but it didn't shake off the nerves. Something was off—there always was. The elk assured him everything was going right in this losing fight against so-called "crime", nonspecific and without shape. No face to it whatsoever. Only men supposedly gone mad without reason.

[snoutbleed]

Sören pinned the fox at the center of the conspiracy.

From the intersection of threads, her scorn cast a lingering suspense. The boar looked to Hale for their input on Umeya’s placement on the detective board—a blessing in disguise, for he wanted to break eye contact with the fox’s portrait.

"We look like we’re going crazy," Hale spoke, raising additional Polaroids to the board, but pinning none. “That means we’re getting something right.”

“Crazy's good, especially with what's going on,” Sören remarked. His comment was lost on how immersed Hale was with lining multi-colored threads across the collage; they all came back to the fox, whose portrait his boss tapped.

“She is quite the social butterfly. Enter her friend, Faust,” his finger glided to a photo of the fox with a hound twice her size. Additional threads sourced out to more creepshots of the fox and her friend. “Looks like they work together. What they do is unclear, but they answer to this man.”

Sören tracked Hale’s finger to a portrait of a suit-clad black goat with glazed eyes. Next to the man of mystery was a stalker shot featuring the fox in conversation with them.

“I ran into him briefly when I was summoned to the BKA,” Sören commented. “His name is Dietrich.”

Hale nodded and that was it, lacking additional comments on the fox’s web of secrets. Instead, a grunt marked a long, contemplative silence. Both of them were silenced by how they came up empty-handed with context. The puzzle was complete, but they couldn’t interpret the image.

Eventually, Hale broke the silence, "I'm noticing a pattern." He wagged his finger around the board.

All around Umeya, the people of interest were brick walls clad in suits and ties. They all had uneasy stares in the fox’s presence. Seemingly energetic photos contained smiles that failed to reach those tired eyes. A job at the top was soul-sucking but it paled in comparison to giving yourself to a devil.

“Could it be…she’s blackmailing them?” Sören asked, nodding. “There’s only so many ways to put someone under your thumb, and she works with confidentiality.”

"That or…” Hale paused, musing to himself, “…she has quite the taste in men.”

Sören perked up, enlightened by surprise. He wore bewilderment as he looked at Hale, the board, and then Hale again, noticing the trend of men proportioned like his boss, which scored an eyeroll.

”Umeya is not into you, inspector.”

[haldenlith]

I couldn’t NOT do a little reaction to this spiciness.

Ghost is definitely going to need to heal Hal’s hand.