After I realised that I wouldn’t finish this I decided to redraw it. I am pleased with the outcome of this sketch, though I am disappointed in myself for redrawing it into something that won’t be quite the same challenge as the first one was. This picture is no longer out of my comfort-zone, which was the main reason with the first sketch, and so I’ve learned nothing from this OUPS

//Changed file because the other one bugged me…

Olive Branches and Sunrises (I)

AN: This is a AU fanwork of Carciphona © Shilin Huang


                      Prequel:   Olive Branches and Sunrises (part I)

Summary: Veloce made it a habit to usually not get spirited away in the early hours of the morning—and it worked for the last seventeen years— but apparently the universe made today an exception.


It was at dawn when Veloce found herself sandwiched comfortably within a tightly packed car; barreling down the cliffside scenic route at speeds clearly unfit for the narrow road.

Flanked by two stoic men and windows tinted as dark as their sunglasses, Veloce gave out a long stifled yawn before listening back to the hushed argument between the man and women up front fighting over the radio. While she couldn’t understand what language they were speaking in, she guessed that the only source of entertainment she would be having for a while was to see how long the front passenger would last before the driver slapped his creeping hand away from the dial again.

As bizarre as it may seem, being kidnapped(?) in the early hours of the morning was pretty much uneventful and quiet; not to mention with a picturesque view.

While she might have not been an expert on unlawful detaining and false imprisonment [one of the downsides of being homeschooled, she supposed], she was pretty certain there would be at least some form of cliché involving threatening, interrogation, taunting, restraints, or manhandling on anyone’s behalf. That’s how all the overdramatic went anyways; but then again illegal activities probably didn’t have a set rubric or schematics that were required to abide by.

There was, however, the obvious fact of everyone giving her the cold shoulder.

For the most part, her abductors seemed to ignore that she was even there in the first place—occasionally sneaking a glimpse here or there. It was if she had barged in on an important conversation they were intimately engaged in and didn’t know what to do with her since she wouldn’t leave—not like she could anyways.

Maybe they were as baffled as she was about this situation.

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the process of this scrap was rather standard instead of my otherwise paint inexplicably everywhere and eyeball everything method, so I thought I’d post it! I used a lot of layer modes to end up with the final colours. I usually do this when I don’t know what I want to do with the colour scheme, as you can see I laid down his colours without any lighting interaction (just plain red, skin colour, white, green etc). if I have a clear atmosphere in mind I usually pick the final mixed colours straight from the colour picker without relying on layer modes to grant me the colour interaction.

posting as photoset instead of gif because tumblr’s photoset browsing is seamless anyway ^^

anonymous asked:

Vocruen- 10, 14, 17

What makes them feel safe or secure? What makes them feel insecure or unsafe?
He feels safe knowing veloce is safe or he is able to keep veloce safe. He feels particularly threatened if veloce is being assertive and taking matters into her own hands.

What are they like when they are drunk?
He shuts up entirely and refuses to talk to/deal with anyone

Do they have any pet peeves or petty dislikes, and how do they react to encountering them?
He doesn’t like seeing arrogant and proud people who don’t actually have any substance, but he just keeps it to himself. Sometimes he does things to mess with those people but it’s rare.

Midnight Rituals | Summoning Demons

A/N: This is a AU fanwork. Carciphona and its characters are the brain child of Shilin Huang. That being said: if anyone seems out of character, I am sorry. I don’t have enough shame to offer you, so I only can give you my shitty words and sentence structure. Also, grammar and I aren’t on the best of terms.


Summary: Veloce wears her shame as a badge of honor: Visrins were supposed to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, not hide underneath comforters.


                              Midnights Rituals and Summoning Demons

Up until the age of eight, Veloce had a habit of sneaking into rooms during the dead of night.

It wasn’t really much of a triumph. While the floorboards were as old as blood spilt from a revived nation, they were surprisingly sturdy enough to mask her mischief. She was a master in her own element, to say the least.

Many years were spent plotting and succeeding silent revenge for the wasted hours sitting through uncomfortable dress fittings; confiscated animals she brought in for pets; and the ungodly amount of vegetables she was forced to eat, which was most likely a passive-aggressive upshot for the ‘Great Mudslide through the Kitchen’ catastrophe—also affectionately dubbed The Second Catharsis. (An event which everyone was barred to speak of yet would always be fresh in minds for many years to come)

She maneuvered the hallways as if it was her own battlefield, and she bowed down to the wrath of no one.

Auresque did however instill her with manners: always knock and patiently wait to be escorted inside when it came to the master bedroom—everything else was fair game for lock picking. If the staff woke up to the sight marker moustaches and graffiti on their face, frogs or snakes in their bed, or their hand in warm water—it was their fault.

Her mother rarely punished her for the late-night excursions. Stealth was a skill that had to be acquired, she would respond with a final tone before the topic would be officially dropped (her cousin Vocruen, on the other hand, dealt out chastisement and disciple with the frequency of refugee resettlement camps spilling across the borders). And unless Veloce was trying to form a coup d’état in the backyard, she rarely gave her the time of day. That fact wasn’t going to change when the sun went down, or during the nights when the devils finally came out.

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