viric-dreams

[viric-dreams]

Trying to conquer my fear of drawing the sleeves of this dress and draft a sketch concept for Josephine's reflection

[viric-dreams]

wip! first mate comes with one (1) benefit:

free headrest

[viric-dreams]

You had a dream.

In it, electric winds carved a path through a rainy labyrinth of streets. The lightnings connected and spread in a web, an energy that linked the children on the roofs to the zailors at the docks, a pervading sense of longing and of vengeance unsatisfied that stained the very walls of this accursed cave in a shade of remembrance. The centre of this web isn’t always in London, but in the dream, it was: a tall person in a cloak of rolling fog, eyes of lightning, wearing the face of the missing silverer.

This is my first entry to @neathyfashioncoalition's Parabolan Elegance (I'll try to make one more, but I can't make any promises I'll be able to deliver aaagh) as well as a look into what Warden looked like during their wandering through Parabola while possessed by Storm. They will be back home soon, the god is a fickle beast.

They are wearing an unlikely gift from a partner's reflection which delayed their possession, but only made matters worse in the end.

Finally this is both Warden wearing a piece of Storm AND Storm wearing the whole of Warden.

[viric-dreams]

[Id from alt text: A digital art drawing of an ivory late victorian gown, inspired by a patterned cloud dress from the house of worth. It depicts a patterened display of clouds and gears, combined with a depiction of the machine and its rays of light upon it. The dress is on top of a mannequin made of glass. /end id]

Every time i see an image of that one House of Worth dress , i always think it'd make a great dawn machine gown design... so at long last, i sought to make it a reality.

[And yes if anyone wants to put their characters in this dress, feel free to do so and just link back to this post XD <3]

Unrendered version and inspo dresses under the cut

[viric-dreams]

in the current fallen london event, disposing bombs in the zee has hit a Lorn-Fluke (giant terrifying eldritch sea urchin thing) and now we have to drive the fluke's dangerously firey wrath away from London. If you don't know a lot about flukes, your only option is to shoot it to make it go away. If you've learned more about the kind of thing the fluke is and the language it speaks, a new option unlocks: to apologise, and insist that London was negligent, but did not mean to hit it.

...This has happened before, about a year ago. Samuel, at the time, only had the option to shoot it in the eye, but the good doctor Lukas (@slightly-sigilant's character) had the option to apologise, and I mentioned that if they were on the same boat, Sam would hold off on firing and let him speak. Watching Lukas communicate with this monster -- and seeing that it worked -- changed his whole understanding of the Neath. It's also the reason Samuel put real effort into learning the Correspondence, while seeing Sam was willing to hold off was what led Lukas to encourage him towards visiting Flute Street, and to send him regular lessons on Correspondence.

And now, Sam has that knowledge; he can see an option he couldn't before. I DUNNO MAN IT JUST GOT ME. IM A LIL EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT.

[viric-dreams]

Now the river isn't so dark any more

The Youthful Naturalist from Fallen London. I know he isn't really supposed to look like this in this point of the story but let's call it artistic licence.

[viric-dreams]

Another lampcat. Will not be the last!

[viric-dreams]

back on my designing nonsense i hope my vision turns out here....

[viric-dreams]

I have four separate pieces I want to do right now, but my brain hasn't let me draw for almost a week now and it's driving me up the wall.

[viric-dreams]

Fallen London Travel Guide:

Castle of Forests

The verdant fortress, formed from strangling vines. At its emerald heart stands the impenetrable citadel of the Fingerkings.

[viric-dreams]

Some people's flocs I drew! In order we have @trembling-amber's Halley Branson, @thespiderwhisperer's Asher Blackwell, @torabdos' Anfroy Skelley, @lord-emerson's Oswald Emerson, and @verdigrius-splendidus' Leona LeFouet! Hands them to you. ok. runs away.

[viric-dreams]

Timelapse video.

"She is... many things, wrapped up together. A broken conduit for crimson instincts. An undercurrent, an idea that refuses to die, the desire to shatter yourself if it means the pieces will cut your enemies. A curse."

[viric-dreams]

ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ, ᴋɪʟʟ ᴛɪᴍᴇ

[viric-dreams]

Your thoughts haven’t been your own ultimately.

This sense of a gnawing, parasitic invasion wasn’t so perceptible first. Sure, the change in eye colour meant something. So did the electric surges every time emotions got high. But it is more than that, isn’t it? Since at very least October, you’ve become more careless. Easier to anger and quicker to reach for the bottle. Desperation can be felt in your every move. You thought you’d feel better when the matter that brought you down into this hole had been solved. You though you could finally move on with your life.

But nothing is ever quite so simple down here, is it?

So, this night you enter your makeshift lab at Benthic looking for a specific package, something given by a “friend” which at the time you considered a “desperate measure”. You now know you’ll have to apply it.

Atop your worktable lies a lead plaque partially wrapped in flameproof paper. Depicted on it is a Correspondence sigil, “To Grasp Your Own Orbit”. You’re not entirely sure if it is skin-safe, you still need to find a capable tattoo artist (which will be troublesome, considering how Milicent has been avoiding you…) and worst of all, you’re not sure if it will work.

What if it doesn’t work?

Well, then you likely ran out of options, and that terrible premonition of yours was correct. The you you are is not important. You will be assimilated by something greater, be it the snakes, a cranky old god that refuses to die, or the Night. You will become one with everything and nothing at all.

It’s funny how feelings work, isn’t it? All of this nebulous fury that is not quite yours, it grew because you allowed it to. It became some cozy protection from something much deeper and that scared you so much more– NO. I FOUGHT TOOTH AND NAIL TO BECOME WHO I AM. I DO NOT HAVE TO SHARE MY BEING WITH THE LESSER. I AM A GOD, I AM THE VOICE OF THUNDER, I AM –

Oh no. It's getting worse.

You can barely believe that that stupid question, that silly “what if” was what broke the camel’s back. There is no time for any plan, this thing is taking you now – IF THEY DARE, IF THEY THINK THEMSELVES ABLE, THEY ARE INVITED TO TRY AND. FACE. THE. FURY. OF. THE. STORM.

The lightning surges are nearly unbearable. You can’t see a thing, and you feel your face sore around your eyes. The eyes themselves are numb. I WILL REND YOU PATHETIC WORMS WITH MY CLAWS AND YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU DARED TO FACE THE STORM. The mirror. It is right there at your side. In Parabola, you were always able to see, even in the worst of the surges… Also, whatever you are right now doesn’t belong in the Is. FOOL. I HAVE MORE RIGHT TO REALITY THAN ANY OF YOU SOUL KEGS. I AM LAW.

The incoherent screaming and flashes of ozonic violant end before anyone notices them. Nothing hints at someone entering the smallest lab of that corridor in Benthic, except for the fact that the door seems to be locked from the inside.

[viric-dreams]

A lot of Jones' and Lottie's conflicts tend to indirectly involve her kids. Jones is trying to step in and take on a more supportive role whilst Lottie gets her feet under her in London. He's happy to have family around again, and wants to be a part of their lives. At the same time, that offer to watch the kids also comes to allow Lottie to have that space to have that life to herself that she was denied on the surface, both emotionally and professionally. She does recognise the underlying reasoning and appreciates it.

She makes a certain degree of peace with the way he runs his home. Some of his quirks, she understands. Some of them, she doesn't, but she's grown to accept that he needs things to be a certain way. Yet it seems to strike a different chord when the kids start to get involved.

He insists they only speak Welsh at home. In theory there’s nothing wrong with that, but they’re in London now and the kids are replying in English and she finds it frustrating that he keeps insisting on this and won’t simply switch.

She doesn't find his religiousness offputting, but the intensity of it--completely out of sync with their upbringing--unnerves her in a way she can't quite articulate. He never forces the matter, but if he has the children with him they're going with him when he leaves for church. None of them have objected or seem to have an issue with it, it simply hits her strangely.

She knows he doesn't intend it this way, but she hadn't seen him in twenty years, and now he's everywhere and so insistent on being involved, and it feels far too much like falling back into that dynamic with her husband or her mother again. If anything, the kids seem far more attached to their Uncle Robin than any of the other adults in their lives, who's now so present in their lives. It would take her far longer than she's comfortable acknowledging to realise why--a nonsensical jealousy. For as much time as she wants to spend on her own, growing as her own person... they're her kids. She wants to have it all.

[viric-dreams]

Most humans will never perceive it, but for the first time, you're aware of it. A gown cloaked by a colour that no living mind can fathom - Slobgollion.

A Slobgollion gown! Featuring both its invisibility to the human eye, and my interpretation of how it might appear to the Rubberies - who can perceive it.

My submission for the @neathyfashioncoalition , for the current theme "Parabolan Elegance" :D

A speedpaint + some blabbering under the cut-

The process for this piece was an unusual one. Everything I initially coloured got changed in the final version. Here's the speedpaint (SLIGHT FLASH WARNING because I fiddle with the layer settings a few times) :

I initially got fixated on the fact that slobgollion was comparable to infrared light, so I wanted the gown's colours to resemble infrared imagery.

However, at some point, i double-checked the Wiki and saw that slobgollion is "between Irrigo and Gant," so I had to correct it all. (I kinda miss the funky colouring, but it resembled Cosmogone a little too much)

+the rubbery started off as a Bigfin Reef Squid. However, upon changing the gown, the colours started clashing, so I winged it completely ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[viric-dreams]

Mr. Hearts is commonly referred to as 'The Butcher'

I've been in a hungry mood with art recently