Posts Tagged WIP

[WIP] Fiordaliso.

So, this is Fiordaliso, another of the Maltese Corsairs. I didn’t have his description on me when I started working on him at Sketch Nite in Boulder last week, so I’ll be making a few modifications when I get to working on him next.

According to the code, the description of Fiordaliso is “The night lookout is a small, scrawny fellow with scraggly whiskers. His fur is a dark blue-grey and he usually dresses all in black. There are three piercings in his right ear. You may not believe the stories about the first mate being part wolf, but every time you look at Fiord you can’t help but think the tiger may be mostly rat.”

Before becoming a pirate, his name would have been Giglio.

[WIP] Rook.

click for larger

And this would be the much-rumoured birdsona. This guy’s name is Careless Rook, and he’s a pied crow. I started drawing him at Sketch Nite in Boulder last week, but wasn’t able to finish it because I couldn’t conjure off the top of my head how bird wings and feet were supposed to look.

[WIP] Modi.

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Started on some of the linework on this fellah….

[WIP] Frostbite.

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Started some work on shading this guy… still got a ways to go, though, and definitely need to even out those legs…

[WIP] Frostbite.

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Did some work on coloring this guy today… Basic colors down, fancy stuff next.

[WIP] Fisting II

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I’m really liking the way this picture’s coming out. A couple of folk at last week’s furmeet thought I was coming along pretty well with it as well… still a ways to go, though.

NSFW (M/M, fisting) below cut… ­»

[WIP] Myces page 5

Apparently I haven’t posted any progress on this page yet?
Well, there hasn’t been much done in a while, though I did get some done this week.
NSFW (M/M, tentacocks) below cut… »

WIP – Modi.

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Did a bit of work on this the other day. I had to move his hand because I couldn’t make it look right where it was; turns out it’s actually too big to fit into those pockets, which I suppose are the sort of decorative flaps you see sometimes.

And yes, his wings are too small. I thought I had measured them and they were supposed to be right, but I was oh so terribly wrong! Will have to work on that at next touch.

[partim] Mori.

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I sort of lay there a while, trying to get over the pain in my foot. Munk came over and stood over me.

“All right, I think I’m not going to be able to walk any further from here,” I said.

The golem picked me up and started walking towards the gate of the arena. I didn’t know where exactly he had in mind to take me, but golems don’t get lost, so I trusted and shut my eyes to think about the pain.

After about five seconds I realized this was not the best use of my time. “You wouldn’t have anything for a broken foot?”

Munk turned around.

[scrap] Taaq.

It wasn’t long after I’d gotten up that the message came through—that annoying, steady, high-pitched beep in my head was probably one of the things I hate most about the network these days.

When I was younger, I’d learned that our great-grandparents didn’t have the network in their heads—it was something the Lunars and the Martians brought in from off-world. Back then, I still thought being connected to planets and planets full of aliens and strange sights was a great thing; these times I’d gladly give it up, but I have an obligation now.

The message was a reminder of that obligation. It wasn’t another little human from Earth wanting me interviewed for a school paper—it was an update from the diarists.

Usually it was just a reminder they were still working: “168 hours recorded, ready to process.”

Always “Ready to process.” They’d said I wouldn’t see much in the way of finished product from them during my lifetime—mostly it takes a finished life to tell the big picture, and recording me and my thoughts all the time takes a lot of time to work through anyway.

I turned out my lamp and rolled over on my back to watch what the alien diarists had put together. Off-worlders always just close their eyes to read the network, but the sky of Frontier is a dark enough background for me.

What they’d sent was basically a preface—for all the people who don’t know about Frontier, it was kind of a history or introduction to the world. But of course since it was for off-worlders, it started with the colonization of our world. I’d hoped there’d be more icebear history to survive—but I knew there wouldn’t be, not really. When I’d sat in the stifling hot classrooms in my youth, they’d not had anything before themselves. My mother’d taught me what she could, but she didn’t have anything past her own grandparents. Before that, I guess, we all lived solitary lives on the ocean.

Hah, the classrooms! I hadn’t thought about those in ages. The off-worlders all came, or at least originated, from Earth, a warmer and a brighter world. I don’t think any of them could actually survive on Frontier without all those superheated buildings of theirs, and the bulky clothing—I had to wear some of that, even in the heat—