#out of practice

[katanaski-main]

🤲🍓 — for you !

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

The composition of butterfly wings, how if you hold me too tightly you’ll break the flutters in my flight pattern. You handle me too much and I’ll crumble into powder. I don’t like being in peoples fists, it’s hard to breathe through the gaps of grip. Don’t smother the flames of me by holding too tight. I thrive off freedom and floating air currents and enough space in the sky to hear my own voice. Let me be quiet, there’s a million whirling thoughts in here that I need to decipher before I put sound to. Let me be, let me be, and all that I am will fall like music around you.

[bitter-13-suite]

Jartsa sketch. Took much longer than it looks. Considering giving up on drawing for a while.

Also: mourning his glorious mane. Such is the curse of middle-aged men, I guess.

Original picture rights to whom they belong, found in the 'Time I' DVD bonus pictures.

[terra-tortoise]

StarJar (#86200016) for dtday

[simon-petrikov]

i’m a huge fionna kinnie so of course i had to sketch her too sgdgdjal

also pls keep comments nice i haven’t drawn in ages, im v out of practice

[yojfull]

Playing around with linocut for the first time in ages and trying for Heartstopper leaf vibes

[spikespiegell]

Complained about no titties for so long but jokes on me cuz I gained 30lb and with that came titties

[projectgoblin]

So I am trying to get back into painting and I started off with trying to give myself a limited palette.

It’s not very good, though I wouldn’t have expected it to be so- I’ve been out of practice several years and things take time to come back to you.

But there’s one little tiny part of it that I just love.

This little bb not-yet-unfurled monstera leaf just hits the spot for me.

Problem is-now I can’t use this canvas for anything else because then I have to cover up that really good bit and that feels heartbreaking. I can’t cut it out and frame it because it would be a waste of such a large canvas that I have another idea lined up for if I ever work up the courage to paint over it. Can’t just try and paint the rest better because it’ll look too heavy and matching perfect colors will be difficult for me being out of practice.

😫 I hate being indecisive and if it weren’t for that tiny piece of really good- I wouldn’t really have difficulty going over this. Maybe one day.

[maybehumming]

[elderredraccoon]

From my experiences in Valheim Mistlands during a storm.

It's a beautiful place if a little terrifying and used it as an excuse to try doing backgrounds again, hopefully it turned out okay

[delicatebluebirdruins]

can you tell i haven't drawn anything in a while? can you tell?

anyways first draft

[itsawritblr]

Me trying to draw:

[run-down-verses-version3]

I wrote you letters

Perhaps if I had sent them

Our love may have loved

[canvas-madness-txc]

[ladyasabat]

You grunt as you hear the now familiar voice awaken you from dreams, a sleepy hand fumbling for the pen and scrap of paper left on the bedside table for this reason as you begin to write down the names that tumble into your mind.

Brows furrow as the list gets longer and longer, filling the first side, still writing as you shift to the tiny desk and refill the pen with ink. Then the reverse of the page. Up the sides. Squeezing names into gaps until...

"Fuck it, all the paladins have broken their oath, slay them all."

You drop the pen in suprise, ink splatting the scribbled, overcrowded list, taken aback both at the curse word and the knowledge that came with it. "All of them?!" An exasperated sigh rolls through your mind like a tumbleweed. "Yes. All of them. I've not been given the details as to why - as per usual - just that it's our mess to clean up."

The frustration is almost tangible, and for a moment you feel a slight hint of sympathy towards your God...until the monumental task they've laid ahead of you hits home like a corpse falling from a tall building. You lean back in the chair with a sigh of your own. "Well...shit." You figure at this moment that if it's okay for a god to swear, they're not going to mind.

"Exactly."

You spend a further moment staring down at the list of names, trying to comprehend even some of the task ahead of you before pushing the offending paper away. "Right. Better get started then." Futile words, but enough to at least prise you out of the chair. Shrugging into your armour with far too practised ease (and noting that you never got that pauldron strap fixed from last time) and donning the trademark blacked steel blades of an Oathkeeper, a title you had always held with a quiet pride - and still do, although in this situation it feels like weighs heavier at your side that it ever did before.

You stride out of the room, footsteps heavy in the torchlit corridor as you make your way to the gate, passing orders as you hurry through. Giving what little information bestowed upon yourself in that brief moment.

The sound of bells echoes behind you as the others are mobilised. It is time, for the first time in as long as you had lead them, for the Order to go to war.

War.

Against every single Paladin in the known Earth, for a reason known only to the Gods to whom they broke their oaths. As the bells fade and you're left with the sound of hoof-steps and clinking of armour, one question refuses to leave your mind.

Why?

You’re an oath-keeper, your god will whisper you the names of those paladins who have broken their oaths, and you slay them. But you awoke at night to an incomprehensibly long list of names, after an hour it said “ fuck it, all the paladins have broken their oath, slay them all”

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

The worst trauma comes from those who you love