Without the use of black, I've discovered that the possibilities doesn't become fewer, but bigger and more numerous, both while working, finishing and while watching the results. In stead of black, I've used a dark burned brown. It goes perfect with a neutral and warm background and undertone. In other cases, I will probably use a dark murky blue. This is probably clear as day for most of you x3, but for me, this is pleasent news in my progress.
Now to the character. This is Cane, You've probably seen him briefly in the comic as Haze's friend in the army. More exactly, he's the only reason Haze is still in the army. He doesn't have the same view of the world as Haze, but they're as close as friends can be and where Haze goes, Cane will follow. (As long as he's allowed) Cane will help his friends in all conditions, in all kind of weather and every day. He's a force to count on and he could possibly be a match even for Haze in a sparring competition. He respects and loves Haze as a friend and leader. His weapon of choice is the legionair's combat spear.
On this picture, Cane wears the common legionair's armour, with thee-linked shoulder plates, a black lackered steel plate armour and a protective skirt of scale-lamelle. He's armed with the one-hand longsword and a heavy dagger for extreme close combat or as a secundary weapon. With that said, I'm done presenting Cane! :3
"Perhaps it really was naïve of me, to think that even after all this, I would still find a happy ending."
It's finally finished...
But anyway. It turned out well; I'm able to look at it without going "It looks worse than it did last time I checked". Her eyes were easy to do, as they're made of dead Vythium don't reflect light; I was able to just fill them in with black.
Green Draconium and steel wraps around her skull, and matted fur hangs down like hair; I like her appearance for the most part; but I think I got the upper jaw of the mask just slightly the wrong shade of color. And my art program hates editing. ...I'll fix it when I'm in the mood.
Her outer skin is actually pale blue, while her insides are silvery; and her fur has a bit of a blue tint as well.
Only one chain is shown here, but she's got six; each with ridiculous reach.
I'm in a mood for drawing more Eren, so I'll probably to a side view picture soon.
By the way; even though she's the woman in the relationship, her lover changed his name, rather than Eren changing hers. The Grim reputation is strong, and it's in anyone's best interest to be have their name, so people know just who they're dealing with. You wanna have 40-plus vengeful predators coming at you at a time? I don't think so.
During her time, the Grim family was larger than it was during Umbra or Night's time, but they didn't ascend to royalty until around Umbra's time period.
Name: Eren Grim
Height: 10 feet, 8 inches
Weight: 880 lbs
Personality: Unsympathetic Protective Quick to anger Persistent Longs for her old life
Strengths: Ridiculous physical strength Ability to shift between life and undeath Undying persistence; no matter how bad the odds are, if something needs to be done, she will get it done
Weaknesses: Afraid of the monster she's become Seems to be apathetic to most people Her desire to complete everything often causes her to take many risks
Likes: Bulletproof metal Acid The times when she can actually make the demons inside of her get along with each other
Dislikes: Sustaining acid burns The times when she can't get the demons inside of her to get along with each other Fanatical Syringes
Love interest?: Lexen Grim
Anything out of the ordinary: Abnormally tall Undead Almost half-machine Literally eats ethereal demons and souls
Superpowers/Magical Abilities/etc.? Powerful command of time and light Can supercharge her own acid with demonic energy, which she then channels through tubes leading to her fingertips, to be sprayed out as an attack Can cause a feeling of fear and weakness simply by making eye contact
Backstory: Eren was an opossum Xeeok born into the Grim family; a large clan of predators, whose name was known and feared over many worlds. As with all members of the family, she was taught that there was nothing wrong with cannibalism, nothing wrong with making her own kind her prey. Almost everyone in her bloodline was a natural predator; they didn't need a first taste of blood to experience the cravings for the flesh of another Voidborn. Eren didn't experience these urges as strongly as most of her bretheren did. While she was responsible for taking lives to quench her bloodthirst, she was able to contain herself much longer than most of her family. At age 20, she married another Xeeok of her own subtype, one she had known since her teen years. His name was Lexen. By the age of 24, they had four children; two sets of twins. Then the Aberrations came. Lives were lost, and Eren disappeared; dragged off by one of the mechanical horrors. There are many types of Aberration; one of the most feared is the Leech. It restrains its target long enough to transfer pieces of itself into its victim, trading its old, machine body for one with flesh and a working brain; enahnced with armor and machines. Eren eventually killed the Leech, but not before her face was ruined. Where beautiful eyes once where, dark lenses remained, and a mask, grafted to her face, covered her mouth. She couldn't return home like this; she looked like a monster, even by their standards. She had the mark of Aberration on her now, she couldn't go back. The urge to kill and convert sank in deeply; not like when she was just a predator. Now, even the people she once loved seemed expendable, to the darker parts of her mind. Returning now, when she was still so mentally weak, would endanger them all. Eren sacrificed her old life and gave herself up to the process of Catalysis; the fusion of the soul with a demon; in hopes of finding power that would allow her to contain herself. Now fused to the core, she found she was able to attract other demons with her aura. From them, she made her own Aberrations, from the bodies of those she deemed "expendable". This signified her beginning as a Syringe. Unlike most Syringes, however; she did not make it so her Aberrations would hunger for destruction. She made most of them with her family in mind; creating them to protect the people she loved from other Aberrations. Then she set to work Aberrating herself further. She was physically a big target; right now, she was just a walking upgrade-box for another Syringe to try to kill and harvest. Using demonic energy to keep herself alive, she performed surgery and upgrades on herself; the knowledge on how to do so given to her by the demon she fused with. By the time she was finished; her entire abdominal section was plated with an alloy of steel and green draconium, for the purpose of protecting her insides. Held within her body at that point was a stomach three times its original size; several generators to shock her back out of an undead state and back into life; pumps and tubes to take acid from her stomach and spray it through her altered, metal hands; a horde of angry machine locusts; as well as many other things. Some of the most prominent were six coils of animated, indestructible Nagōdanite chains, tipped with four-inch blades. Each of these chains had a reach of 60 feet. Demonic energy could be channeled down the chains and into the blades; and as long as part of the blade was inside of a victim of her attack, it would be petrified and unable to move. Eren quickly found that in her state of undeath, she had a limited supply of energy. To fix this, she hunted down Aberrations, using her powers to peel the demon away from the tormented soul, and swallow it; sometimes the soul as well. It would come to reside inside of her safely, protected and no longer under the endless torture of being a machine built for death. In exchange, Eren would feed off of the energy it exerted, until it naturally expired. Demons only lasted so long after being stripped of sapience. Eren existed on, trying to become stronger over time until she had full control of her Aberrant urges, before returning to her family. She had along way to go. Six years, and she still was incomplete. Eventually, a pirate salvage crew found her. They worked in capturing Aberrations and selling them on the black market. They tried to apprehend Eren, and if she wanted to eat the souls of every last one of them, she could have done so. But she left a fraction of them either alive, with their souls, or untouched altogether; using the others as a warning as to what would happen if they further tried to take her. Even so, she went with them of her own accord; she had nothing better to do after existing in the middle of nowhere for so long. And since these people were hunting Aberrations, it meant sustenance for her. In exchange for the occasional Aberration she was allowed to take as prey, she assisted what was left of the crew in hunting down their targets. Three years later, the rest of the crew was killed by an Aberration that even Eren was unable to take down. From there, she followed after the Stormrunner; a ship that had come to the same area. She had seen the captain somewhere else before, and she couldn't rest until she knew exactly. She also learned that on board was a jackal Xeeok, Kane, who, for some reason, was the center of attention of many Aberrations; giving her yet another reason to stay around. After she proved that she meant the crew of the Stormrunner no harm, she was allowed to travel with them. She protected them from Aberrations, and was able to consume her fill of ethereal demons. Until she was strong enough to return to her family, she had found her place.
Apparent to most people who see her fight; she is actually really, really good at wrestling and melee.
She reached out her hand and ran her palm down the face of the funny little person who had been so kind and warm. She smiled gently as he froze, timid and suddenly afraid.
It's so cute, someone shoot me. In case you can't tell, the one on the right is the clockmaker and the one on the left is the foreigner. She comes from a place that is much colder, so to her it is too hot to wear thick clothing. I kind of failed at the background. It's all derp. And the lower half of the female really bugs me. If I had a tail I know I would twist strands of pearls into it, at least for those times I feel feminine.
Comments, questions, and critique always welcome!
EDIT: I changed the back curtain to be a little blue-er so that the lady's dress would be more visable against it.
This took probably about one billion years to complete. Digital pen tablets are tricky for me... I just got one recently. I exaggerated the fox in a cartoony way. It started out with hard edges and no fur, but I decided to go all out. Damn, I have a lot to learn.
I felt like Bob Ross making my suckish background, and I put in the indication of a happy little puddle of some sort. Yeah, right there just waiting for critters to splash in it. A happy little place in my mind. /dork/
EDIT: Better colours now. I think. Fuck do I know, I'm colour blind lol.
A stupid experiment. He turned out a bit too shepherd-like to my liking. The body was very pitbullish until I added the colours and they just magically made him look way too shepherdy. Goddamn uber dominant GSD colours.
Which, sadly, I'm too late for because I got lazy this week. DX
~~ "It's not devotion, Chin. I'm just not cruel enough to dump him here." The femgenet, Surabi, told her new friend. "Do you know how these hyenas treat a disowned melfur? No? Well, anyway, I don't have the heart to do that to him."
"You go to Ridan." Chin, a melmouse driven from his northern homeland by war, stumbled on the unfamiliar language. "Leave him there. It okay."
Surabi was impressed that he could speak her language as well as he did, knowing he had only learned it recently. He and his family had been displaced by a shadow-war in the northeast, just as Surabi and her husband Noro.
The hyena kingdom of Sarbok was filled to overflowing with strong, ambitious femfurs, the pride of their species. They were a masculine culture, raised on the desert grasslands, fond of war and bickering. It was only at times such as this, when war threatened them all, that the numerous matriarchs would band together.
They used the war refugees as cheap labor. Sometimes it was nearly slavery, but Surabi considered it preferable to dying in a war with no cause.
"He's too soft for this place. You're right about that, Chin." Surabi shrugged her spotted shoulders, scarcely covered by her summer clothing. She took a sip from her water jug and then balanced it atop her quernstone. "But Ridan's as deep in war as everywhere else. I can't go there. Besides, he tries to provide enough for me, even if we don't love eachother anymore. At least he's that strong."
Chin adjusted his mismatched clothing. He wore a shambles of local and foreign attire similar to many other refugees. That they sat in the dust only worsened his appearance. "When he gone, you get hyena? Real melfur."
Surabi shook her head, a joke bubbling to her lips. "If I wanted a manly hyena I'd go for the females." She laughed. In her enthusiasm she knocked over her sack of grain, spilling kernals into the powdery dust.
The melmouse blinked in confusion, obviously unable to separate the words of her quick speech. "Go for what?"
The femgenet made a motion with her golden handpaws as if brushing the question aside. "It was a very rude joke. Forget I said anything."
"Okay. Good." Chin nodded his whiskery snout as if understanding, though Surabi was certain he hadn't.
"Is it normal to be such a suckup where you come from?" The spotted femfur asked quickly, hoping to lead her companion into more heedless agreement.
The melmouse nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. Yes!"
Surabi chuckled. "I bet you're just trying to butter me up, get me into bed. Aren't you Chin?" This comment was only half joke. She had noticed that Chin always agreed with her when she spoke poorly of her husband and suspected he had an interest in the matter.
"Yes. Mhm!" Again the mouse lied, nodding as if understanding her fully. She patted him on the back heartily, her way of apologizing without telling him what she had done. He had been a good friend to her for weeks and didn't deserve such mockery.
She sat and turned her quernstone lazily. She fed a few kernels of wheat under her balanced water jug into the top and watched as they came out the edge of the stone as flour. She wetted her finger and stuck some of the powder to it.
She was surprised how good it tasted. It made her realize just how long it had been since she ate. Her husband would be hungry as well, but she had only ground a single cupful of flour. Not even enough for one of them.
She had been unproductive their entire stay in Sarbok. He was soft and would only chastise her lightly, then do the work himself. She saw no reason she should labor, she had power over him as long as they were in hyena lands.
If he were to displease her she could simply cast him away, make it known that he had displeased his wife. To the matriarchal hyenas that was a great shame. He'd be worse than homeless. They would refuse to help or hire him. He'd be left to his own strength, little as he had, and likely starve.
She knew she ought to feel bad for it, but work was tedious. Especially when one knew they didn't have to do it. It was better in her eyes to be able to relax, even if she was a burden on her husband. If she hadn't left him for someone wealthier she'd help once the war was over and they returned home.
There was a sudden shout halfway down the dusty makeshift road. A tall, broad femhyena was shouting something to a person hidden from view behind a tent. Her ornaments marked her as a person of some standing.
There was a shouted reply and, despite the distance, Surabi recognized Noro's voice. It was unlike her husband to yell. Something serious must have happened.
Genets are average in height and Noro was shorter than most, standing a full foot shorter than the large femfur he was arguing with, but as he moved into view it was plain by his stance that he was ready to fight her, even loaded down with grain as he was. She stood proudly, as if she didn't believe he would combat her.
She forcefully took his sack of grain, her greater strength making it an easy task. He snatched it back from her with surprising strength of his own. Instantly she stole it again, laughing at the small melfur. She turned and began to walk away, vainly ignoring his protests.
Moments later he struck the back of her head with his walking staff, dazing her. The blow was followed by several attacks to her legs which pained her so greatly that she fell to the ground and curled herself protectively.
The melgenet beat the thief repeatedly, bruising her and likely cracking several of her ribs. Only when a melhyena, apparently the femfur's mate, threw himself in the way, grovelling, did Noro stop.
The local tended to his beaten wife, helping her to stand and limp away slowly. The pair retreated in shame, beaten by a diminutive foreigner.
Noro took his heavy sack and tromped towards home and Surabi. The dark road was so dusty that even a single person created a trailing cloud. His face pulled tightly into several types of grimaces and glares, as if he was unsure how to feel.
A heavy, distinctive stench followed him like a swarm of flies. He had been forced to resort to the dirtiest labors to earn their food that day. That he had suffered she didn't doubt.
"Hello N--" She began to say in a steady voice, as if nothing had happened. It was an attempt to reassert her control over him. A hidden command to return to his quiet, submissive self.
"Where's dinner?" He demanded uncharacteristically, refusing to calm. He looked around their campsite, his flaming eyes stopping on the spilled wheat and single cup of flour. He spent his hours toiling for the grain which she didn't value enough to gather. Surabi averted her gaze, feeling a little real shame for her laziness.
"One cup!" He shouted so loudly the words must have hurt to utter. His face stretched in emotional pain. "Damn it woman! That's all you've done the whole day?"
Woman. A word from a nearly forgotten age. A derogotory reference for a femfur so strong that the hyena matriarchs punished those who used it. That her weak, puppetlike husband had called her a woman spoke more than a thousand words about his anger.
Chin, the melmouse, hissed in disapproval. "You no to talk her that way!"
Noro sent the mouse sprawling in the dust with a single kick to the stomach. The mouse was as much smaller than the melgenet as Noro was than the hyenas. The small melfur retched in pain.
"Get away..." Unappeased, Noro grabbed the stricken melfur by the back of his mismatched clothing and half threw, half shoved him out of their campsite. "...from my wife!"
He spun around, glaring at Surabi as Chin fled, still heaving and gasping for breath. "And you! You want me to provide for you? Be worth providing for! Or so help me..." He clenched his handpaws so tightly around his staff that she feared, for the first time, that he would strike her. "I'll leave you and put so much show into it that it won't matter you're a femfur, the hyenas won't want you!"
She bowed her head, averting her eyes in submission to his anger. She knew he meant it. Until he calmed there was nothing she could do but pretend to be apologetic.
It didn't please him. "I don't want your sorry looks and whimpering. I want flour and bread. Bread! I'm not wasting my life working with sewage so that I can do your job too."
He sighed heavily. His anger seeming to fly away with that breath. A serious calm flooded into him, settling his voice. He locked eyes with her. "Surabi. Grind the flour, or I won't earn the wheat."
She scooped handfuls of grain and fed them into the quern. Her handpaws moved quickly, rotating the stone and grinding the flour they both desired. He had meant those words. She must work for herself.
She had never expected that he would be willing to leave her. If she left him he would be a slave working for a pittance of grain to eat in the evening. She began to hate herself as she realized that she had already been forcing him to do just that.
He sat, eager to rest his weary legs. He took a long draught from their water jug, refusing to help. His posture, his actions a silent demand that she devote herself to him as he was devoted to her.
~~ Illustrated by . Who's nice to me and gives me pretty colored pictures!