#The colorful background is actually concept art for my fic (for a my main au) but I want to redraw it and it works here so :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edelwary · 6 years

Note

when you were first getting into art, what and how did you draw? (like did you just doodle ur masterpieces on pieces of paper and posted-notes or did you have a proper sketchbook) how did you find motivation? bc ive been trying to draw but I always get unmotivated and stop while still wanting to get better just by doing nothing.

REALLY LONG, LOTS OF ADVICES FOR ARTISTS :

TL;DR ; skip to the HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW part bc i have a megaton of shit to say lol + The MOTIVATION part

mmh… I’ll get into details with this one tbh bc it’s a long ass process ahah :

I live by the sea ; when i was youung i used to draw TONS of boat, but like, dollhouse boats, you could see the insides and stuff ; i loved to add tiny details and stuff, and imbricate everything together !

around 8 or 9 yo, i went to the public library with school and discovered the wonderful world of mangas ! I basically… Copy pasted an entire Mermaid Melody tome x)

For about 2 years i alternated between reading mangas and trying to copy them ! Then i just kept drawing in the margins of my schoolwork for about… 5 years ! I have a Fuck Ton of sketchbooks of that time, it was… The start. Lol. Never say it’s bad because it’s never bad, just not there yet !!

Around my 13 yo, i went every saturday, for two years, under a bookstore ; there was a cave, and drawing classes ; that teacher was mean and harsh and stuff, but like… Not really. He would take away my eraser for the class, force me to use pencil, to draw something else (bulky boys instead of magical girls).

I’ve learned a lot, more in terms of How To LEARN to draw than to draw itself, but i still progressed a LOT !!

Then i kept drawing by myself for a year and i really worked hard on it ; about hours a day, trying watercolors and stuff ; i have a real problem with colors in traditionnal art, but i’m much better with lines (i should scan some RAD stuff i made in the weekend, yall ive never done anything this good i stg i dont know why i always forget im so much better on paper)

This gets us to my sweet 16 ; i have to year of advance, bc i got ‘’’promoted’’’ idk how to say it ; anyways, i entered my (current) animation school for the first year at 16; vERY IMPRESSIVE AND TERRIFYING.

And i learned. A fuckmegaton. Of shit there.

Now i’m going for my third year there and i can make photorealistic marmora blades and cyberkpunk decors if i want to and that’s rad, but here is

HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW :

I have one HYPER important advice, and i’m keeping it to heart since i’m like, 11 : Have. Sketchbooks. Please !!! It’s very important. Here’s why :

You keep everything with you in one place. You have 1 sketchbook, it’s basically easy to take every where (a A5, or A4 are pretty easy to carry, i have like, 12 of those, and around 8 of A3)

You keep track of what you’ve done. It’s super important, bc first you can cry of laughter at your old stuff bc its cute but not so good, and second, you can just be like ‘holy mama’ and see how much you’ve improved

It’s very important to be organized. I WORK in art, and trust me, if there’s something that i’ve learned this year through tears and missing files and bugs : Be. Impeccable. Now if it’s for fun, go a little loose, and just have a folder for art on your computer, and a sketchbook, no need to stress, but the better you try to keep a record of where is what, the better you’ll see whats wrong

Notebooks are friends !! You can draw, write, glue stuff, make notes, lists, everything !!! I have my life in those. It’s more important to me than any of my phones.

Be proud of it. Like, not everything, duh ! But try to tell yourself than it’s like a RPG ; even if it’s only 2 xp here and there, one day you’ll beat level 40, and that’s super important : art is. Fuckin. Long.

I cant stress it enough. It’s soooo long !!! SO LONG !! it’s years. It’s like karate and fishing and ANYTHING. To be good at it, it takes time, but it WILL COME if you keep trying. There’s no secret passage.

You’re gonna me it, believe in me who believes in you.

Use. References.

Coming from a little shit who’s got a really good visual memory, that can sound like bs, but i stg everything is always AT LEAST twice as good if you’ve used a visual support.

I’m not saying COPY EVRYTHING (even though thats a good training) I’m saying, if you really want to do that asian tiger, please have at least two or three pictures of it nearby. Take photos of your hands, and stuff !

Make it harder.

No eraser.

Paint.

I draw all my backgrounds on my sketchbook with INDIAN INK; no returns, no refunds.

Ink, Ink, INK !! Don’t allow mistakes.

And if you make mistakes :

New page, restart

It’s okay

It’s for you

I once started back again a whole EXAM bc it was bad, i got one of my best grades

You’ll improve and be more assured if you know you just have to DO IT. Trust me. It’s VISIBLE; if you can erase, you fidget and hesitate and ‘’kbeujebez hahhaaa idkkidsd’’ ; stop ; do it, and if you don’t like it ? Try again, there’s no time limit

Draw as large as you can

There’s no interesting story here, it just helps. Bigger movement of the hand, more place for details, breathing lines

Thin lineart helps

Thinner. Make it even thinner

Break the rules, but not the ones that structure your art

Big lineart ? Why not

Unfinished lines, vaporeous colors ? Pretty

Cubism is actually based on extensive and intense practice of classical art, it’s not wibbly wooblly ; the anatomy is more correct than you think

Structure and composition are important, but so is movement and life ; choose your fighter ; mine is fluidity and fun, i’m like, a rogue/archer in drawing. Some people are dwarf fighter. That’s amazing and great.

Don’t be afraid to do nothing

Pages and pages of my sketchbooks are actually just lance facing right and smiling, you know…

Sometimes it just doesnt work : two ways :

Take a break, Kiki’s delivery service style

Keep trying, break your art until it obeys and comes back

Take breaks. Breath.

Don’t compare. I do it, it doesn’t help at all. You’ll make it ; and if you compare, keep in mind that everyone’s different

I’m not gonna lie, it’s NOT easy, it’s even hard

But I really, really think it’s worth it

MOTIVATION :

My main bitch

I’m always pumped for art because i can LITTERALLY NOT do anything else ; i love reading and writing and stuff but at the end of the day i just want !!! to draw !!!! aaaaaa-

Fall in love with it, and with the possibilities ; i have stories to tell, tell me yours ! Do your best, one day it WILL work

Actual advices :

I have an inspiration blog where i just reblogs stuff i like to draw them later

Find a picture, copy it. Do it again. Change the characters (i have 2 ocs and Lance and Keith as default characters) in the pic.

Like an artstyle ? Break it to its very core, analyse it, copy it, redo it, trace it and ABSORB it. Don’t copy/past, LEARN from your heroes.

Do what you like. I have 86578 pieces of voltron, this is not a coincidence. I have ENDLESS ideas for this show, wtf.

Try new things. Buy indian ink im begging you. It’s so cool.

Have a game with yourself, or a challenge. STICK TO IT.

Study. When you’re bored, usually it’s because you’re stagnating. Make it harder or do hands until you cry.

Love your backgrounds; make backgrounds, study trees, and tokyo streets, and venice’s bridges. Decor is just as cool as characters, if not more

Mess a little with everything. My roomate more than one found me stained from head to toes trying to DO STUFF

Draw outfits. Draw what you want but can’t afford

MAKE YOUR LIFE A COMIC. Remember those sketchbooks ? Make a comic a week/month/every full moon, whatever, and draw your life (mine’s the roomates au lol)

Prompts blogs are cool too

Make fanart of a fic you liked ; you have the characters and the pose already, you just have to illustrate ; double bonus, you probably will make a writer’s day, if not year !

That little movie that plays when you listen to your favorite song ? DRAW IT

Your favorite scene in your favorite movie ? Redraw each shot. On post it. Plus it looks awesome afterwards to have the infamous TREX scene of Jurassic Parks in post it

Get bored. That’s inevitable. Dance, scream, get back to it. Walk, draw everything you see.

Make a paper google map street view : Take a walk : every 50 meters, draw what is in front of you.

Snapchats your friends. Draw their snapchats when they answer

Draw maps. Invent places. Invent bikes, and hovercrafts, and monsters. Make your everyday inventory. Make your life a video game, and do the concept arts of it.

FETCH your inspiration. I have approx. 20 artbooks, full of drawings and concept arts of my fave movies/games ; take what you like and add it to the story you have since you’re 8. We all have one.

Ask for it ; your sis, your mom, me even ! If you dont have ideas, someone will have them.

WELL i’m gonna stop there, even though i got like, 9864567 more to say, but with this you should be fine ! Anon, i’m rooting for you ! we all start somewhere, just hold on!!!!

#Anon you'll do it !!!!!!!!!!#asked #artist advice #art #i put my heart in this omg #it's 1.5 K WORDS #wtf #but yeah #you just gotta do shit and mess around

91 notes · View notes

dansphlevels · 6 years

Text

The Subject Series

This fic was written for her @phandomreversebang with artist @corgi-lester. You can find the art here. This fic has been in the works for a long time but I really like it and I hope you will too!

Summary: Tensions have been rising in Phil’s hometown at the rise in gun violence and string of robberies. However, Phil has bigger things to worry about me, like his newest art assignment to paint a series of portraits showing the true character of a person you know. Phil has his subject, the only problem is, he doesn’t actually know Dan, though he’s more than willing to rememdy that.

Length: 8k

Highschool!phan au with artist!Phil and newkid!Dan, including the growth of a friendship, Phil being a little stalker-y, and Dan not understanding the concept of stranger danger. Was heavily inspired by my Drabble series ‘Artists’ and recent events involving gun violence.

“I want to do five paintings, all different sized canvases that link together.”

Mr. Hebbs shook his head. “Phil, this isn’t that complex an assignment. You only have to do three, and canvases aren’t required.”

“It’s fine, I get a discount on them at my job,” Phil insisted. “And I like to paint at home.”

“But Phil—” Mr. Hebbs saw the look Phil was giving him and changed direction. “You have other classes, I don’t want-”

“I really appreciate everything you do,” Phil reassured with his teacher-pleasing smile. “How about I let you know if it’s too much? Then I’ll go down to only painting three canvases.” Mr. Hebbs started saying something else, but Phil quickly cut him off with a “You’re the best! I’ll see you in class!”

Phil was already halfway out of the door when Mr. Hebbs called out, “But Phil! Who is going to be your subject!”

“I’ll figure it out!”

———

The beginning of the semester was not something to be excited about. You could be the best student in school, but you still wouldn’t cheer about it if someone held a gun up to your head.

Phil was right in the middle of the spectrum. He definitely didn’t hate school, but the end of winter break meant less free time for art and more brain power having to be spent on things like trigonometry and physiology.

He spent most of Trig staring at the other students in the class. For the art project, he had to find a subject to paint a few times, but no one in his classes stuck out to him.

As Mr. Goinstein lectured, Phil felt his hands fidget almost on their own merit, scribbling out a design on his travel-sized sketchbook. It ending up being the teacher, with his hairline receding almost as far back as in real life, his suit cheap looking but well pressed. Phil wondered if his hair had gotten greyer in the past few weeks.

Phil jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” a voice whispered, “do you have a pencil?”

Phil turned around to double check that he wasn’t hearing things— he sat at the back of the class for a reason, how dare someone move to be further back than him— except no one had moved. The boy sitting before him- or rather, behind him— wasn’t a regular face in the class.

Phil would know. He’d drawn every face in the class; or attempted to, at least.

The boy was looking at him expectantly, and his mind snapped back in to focus. “I don’t have a pencil,” Phil replied. The boy looked down to his hand, where he was holding a 2H pencil. “This is special. I can’t— I might have a pen?”

Phil wanted to frame the slightly wonderstruck expression the boy gave him. With his face a little warmer than it had been before, he dug through his backpack and found a pen, giving it to the new kid.

Phil looked back at his doodles. Would it be creepy if—. Before he could finish the thought, his pencil was back on paper, sketching out an oval with two lines intersecting it. He marked the eyes, then the nose, adjusted the chin, and added the hair. Before he knew it, he’d drawn the boy sitting behind him.

If the boy was a troll.

Phil flipped to the next page, trying again only this time with more space. The problem with drawing faces an inch high was that in real life, they were notably bigger, which meant that details were lost in the drawing. Sometimes the faces turned out fine. And sometimes they turned out looking like the person had just crawled out from underneath a bridge offering to grant your fondest wish in return for your first born child.

Phil scribbled out another face, this one closer to scale. It was more accurate. This time, the boy looked like he’d ran into a brick wall. He didn’t look ugly, per say, just… flat.

Phil turned to the next page, drew out another oval to act as his guide, and then turned around, looking at the boy while pretending to be looking at the clock. He was very convincing, too. However, there was no clock on the wall.

But the boy was new, he didn’t have to know that.

By the end of class, Phil had made four different drawings of him, all of them barely recognizable. The last one was more accurate, though it still wasn’t quite there.

Phil closed his notebook as the bell rang, sighing as someone taped his shoulder. “Here’s your pen back.”

Phil took it, and took the opportunity to look at the boys face again, trying to find where his features lines up with his guidelines. “You’re new, right?”

“Um, yeah.” When he smiled, little dimples formed on the sides of his cheeks. “I transferred from AHS. I’m Dan.”

“I’m Phil. Could I take a picture of you?”

“Um, what?”

“I’m in Photography,” Phil quickly lied, the muscles in his face hurting from the effort of smiling. “We just needed to take a picture of someone for a warm up.”

“Oh, I’m in Photography too!” Phil tried not to let his panic show through. “And sure, I guess. As long as it’s not for a big project or anything, I don’t really want to see my face framed in the middle of the hallway or anything.”

Phil smiled, grabbing his phone and clicking the video button. “Don’t worry about it.”

He kept the video recording for just long enough to catch Dan’s dimple on camera before turning off his phone and stuffing it in his bag.

———

Dan’s nose was practically perfect. It was very proportionate to his face. The problem Phil had been running into, Phil later found out, was his eyes. Dan’s eyes were more almond shaped, with discreet eyelids. Phil had been emphasizing his eyelids too much.

That night, in his room, Phil played the video over an over, screenshotting it at the best moments. Then he pulled out a piece of drawing paper and sketched out his face, this time with a reference picture, and kept erasing and adding to it until it was clear who the subject was.

The paper still felt too empty, so Phil sketched in some flowers around his head. He got his blending stump and darkened his cheeks, making it look like he was lightly blushing. “Yes, very kawaii,” Phil muttered.

That would be his project. And Dan would be his subject.

Though he’d have to get Dan to agree to it first. Because unlike Photography warm ups, this project would actually be hung up in the school hallway.

———

“Hey Dan!” Phil called out, jogging up next to Dan in the hallway. He turned around, smiling a little uncomfortably.

“Hey...”

“Phil,” Phil reminded him.

“Right, I knew that. Hey Phil.”

Phil would do one of the paintings with Dan laying in coffee beans. He would still do the flower one, but each painting would have a different background, Phil decided, all very soft, aesthetic things. Dan seemed very soft and aesthetic, even though he was wearing all black. Phil bet he ran a pastel tumblr blog.

Dan turned to head towards one of his classes, and Phil kept in tow with him, even though his class was on the other side of the school. “So, I was wondering. We have this project—”

“In Photography?” Dan finished. “The rule of thirds thing?”

“Um, no. In ADAPA-”

“What?”

“It’s, um, Advanced Art Design and Presentation but the letters are in the wrong order because AADP doesn’t roll of the tongue that easily. I’m doing this subject series, where I paint a person a few times. It’s very low key, and I was just wondering if I could paint you.”

Dan stopped in front of one of the English classes, giving Phil a weird look. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?”

Dan considered this. “Wouldn’t that be weird? You, just… painting like, two pictures of me?”

Phil didn’t correct him. “Nah, it’s pretty normal. Everyone in ADAPA is doing this project, so you won’t be the only subject or anything.”

Dan hesitated, squeezing the strap of his backpack.

“I’ll just need to take a few pictures of you. And I’ll pay you fifteen pounds,” he added.

Dan glanced into the classroom, still hesitating. “Only if you let me take a picture of you for the photography project,” he conceded, “and help me with the camera. They wouldn’t let me in the Beginning Photography class because I’m a senior, so I kinda lied about my skills. And since you’re in Photography too…” he trailed off, looking hopeful.

“Sure, no problem.” Phil hadn’t touched a camera since 6th grade. “Here, let me give you my phone number so we can set it up.”

“Great.” Dan’s cheeks were the same shade as they’d been in Phil’s drawing, only Phil’s drawing was in black and white. In real life, Dan was in full, vivid color.

———————-

“Are you okay?” Phil asked with a comforting smile, leading Dan up the stairs to his room. “You look kind of pale.”

Dan ran a hand through his curly mocha hair— it was mocha, Phil had decided— following him up the stairs. “I’m fine. I walked past the bakery on Main and it was closed. Do you think anything happened?”

Phil shrugged, leading him into his room. His dirty laundry was kicked into a corner by his bed, which was little more than a cheap box frame and small mattress. Most of the room was taken up by his art supplies, paint splattered tarp spread out underneath his desk and two easels. Notebooks and canvases sat in piles along the wall, some blank, others completely filled, mostly with paint.

“Wow,” Dan commented as he looked around. “You're a very convincing artist.”

Phil laughed. “What else would I be? Do I look like a sportsman to you?”

Dan looked him up and down, biting his lip. “No. But the tarps do suggest you may be a serial killer.”

“Well, I'm not. Unless you consider killing trees as being a serial killer. With all the supplies and paper I use, I'm probably one of the leading causes of deforestation.”

Dan snorted. “Nice.”

Phil found his phone, waving it triumphantly. “Got it. Let's go take some pictures?”

“Sure.”

“Come on. The basement has really good lighting.” Phil lead him downstairs, the silence getting awkward quickly. “What was that you were saying earlier? About… the cake shop on Main?”

“The bakery. It was closed. Do you think it could have been the same thing that happened with the funeral home?”

Phil sighed. “I hope not. I hated it enough the first time.”

“Right? I hope the police find whoever is doing it and lock them up for life. I don’t care if Mrs. Roes will recover, it’s not fucking okay.”

Phil glanced back at Dan who was following him tensely, his arms crossed. “You good?”

“‘M fine. It’s just frustrating, it’s like, what are we supposed to do about it, you know?”

Phil knew what he meant, he did. But he was more focused on the way Dan’s features curled when he was frustrated, the way his eyes changed with intensity. Dan looked angry and helpless at the same time and it was so contradictory, Phil had to do one of the paintings with this expression. He’d paint it so Dan was surrounded by blooming flowers and scowling like they did something to personally offend him.

———

Phil didn’t make a habit of lying, but he found himself lying to Dan almost as often as he told him the truth. Dan sat down on the couch and Phil adjusted his phone lense until it was just right, then pressed the record button.

“Let me know when you’re taking a picture,” Dan requested, squeezing his hands.

Phil nodded. “Three, two, one…” He twitched his thumb, pretending to touch the screen. Dan smiled falsely, holding it for a few moments then breaking it.

“So natural,” Phil commented from behind the camera. “Hey Dan, what do you call fake spaghetti?”

“I don’t know, what?”

“An im-pasta.”

Dan laughed, smiling widely enough for both of his cheek dimples to be on full display, and Phil knew he was going to be screenshotting that later.

“That’s horrible. Phil, what’s the difference between a snow-man and a snow-woman?” Dan waited a second for dramatic effect before answering: “Snowballs.”

It was Phil’s turn to crack up, the phone shaking in his grip.

“Hey, just take the pictures without telling me,” Dan decided. “Otherwise it’ll feel too fake.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Why did the farmer win an award?” Pause. “Because he was outstanding in his field.”

———

“You certainly don’t waste your time,” Mr. Hebbs commented, peering over Phil’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”

“He’s a new student,” Phil replied without looking up from his work. He was just adding the final touches to Dan’s painted face, carefully adding a highlight. “He’s in one of your photography classes.”

“Oh. I suppose I’m just not used to seeing him with the flowers.” Mr. Hebbs scratched his jaw, thinking. “I would make sure to highlight the glabella,” he suggested after a moment.

“The… what?”

“The glabella. Right… here,” he said pointing to the space in between the painting’s eyebrows, careful not to touch it.

Phil dabbed his brush back in the paint, adding some of it to the area Mr. Hebbs had been referring to.

“How long are you planning on staying?”

Phil glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already 2:50 and school got out at 3. “How long are you going to be here? I won’t need too much more time.”

“I need to leave at the bell, but you can stay as long as you clean up, and turn off the lights and lock the door when your done. If anyone asks where I am—”

“—I’ll just say you’re in the bathroom,” Phil finished, smiling down at his painting. “As per usual.”

“Perfect.” The art teacher looked at the painting again, tilting his head to the side. “I’d add more lowlights to the hair too.”

“Can do.”

———

It happened again. Sometime that afternoon, a man had broken into the garden store a few blocks away from Phil’s neighborhood, brandishing a small handheld gun and demanding the cashier on duty give him everything in the till. The cashier went to get the code for the safe— apparently he wasn’t a very smart cashier— and the shooter opened fire. The gun only had a few rounds in it, but it was enough to shatter the front windows and stun the cashier.

Phil saw the destroyed storefront as he biked home from school, his completed painted sticking out of his book bag. The next morning, he listened as his mum read to him the article in their local paper describing the events.

“‘We recommend all small shops in the downtown area invest in panic buttons and try to have more than one person on staff whenever possible. And, until this situation is under control, we ask that all students avoid walking or biking through town on the way home from school.’ Sorry Philly, it sounds like you’re going to have to find a new way home.”

Phil slouched, cupping his cooling coffee in his hands. “Do I have to? We don’t know if they’re going to rob another shop.”

“They’ve got a gun,” Kath reminded him. “And there’s already been four incidents now.”

“They may not have all been the same person!” Phil argued, but it was futile. Kath shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but it’s just not safe.”

———

Phil was wheeling his bike out from the rack when a familiar voice called out his name. He looked up and was met with an even more familiar face- one he’d studied and recreated a few times over various types of papers and a canvas.

“Phil!” Dan called out again, jogging over, smiling widely.

“Hey!” Phil called back when Dan got closer. “What’s up?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Dan said easily, “Do you want to hang out? I’m biking home too.”

Phil smiled back. “Sure! I have work soon-ish, but I can hang out until then.”

“Nice.” Dan pulled out one of the bikes a few away from Phil, walking it around the rack. “Where do you work?”

“Hobby Lobby. It’s not very exciting, but I do get a pretty good discount on art stuff.”

“And you get money for art stuff,” Dan added. “I thought only professional artists used real canvases, aren’t they like, super expensive?”

“To someone getting paid minimum wage? Yes. But they’re not that bad.” Phil mounted his bicycle, buckling his helmet on under his chin. Dan got on his own bike, except was missing something vital.

“No helmet?”

“I’m not seven,” he teased. “No offense.”

“None taken. Because unlike you, I’m not going to crack my head open on the concrete and die before I can even graduate secondary school.”

An image flashed before Phil’s eyes of Dan laying on the pavement with a perfect stream of blood coming down from his temple. For a moment, he really wanted to paint it, before he realized that was probably not the appropriate reaction. He shook the thought away.

“Ooh, fighting words,” Dan teased as they carefully pedaled away from the school. “Do you wanna race?”

The image flashed before Phil’s eyes again, except this time Dan was smiling, his lip bloodied. Imagination-Dan winked at him.

“You’re on,” Phil responded to Real Life Dan, the one that had just challenged him to a race. “After this street, we race until we get to the park, deal?”

“Deal.”

As soon as they crossed the street, Dan took off, speeding down the way. Phil pushed harder, pounding at the pedals until he was almost in line with Dan. Dan glanced behind him, and upon seeing Phil, laughed, pushing to go even faster.

“Slow down! Let me— let me pass!”

Dan let his feet up from the pedals, the wheels still spinning at about 200 rotations a minute as he thundered down the street. Phil kept pushing until he was side by side with Dan, the park within view.

Then Dan’s feet hit the pedals again and it was all over.

———

Phil arranged the canvases in the way they’d be set up once he was done. They were all slightly different sizes and lined up perfectly with about two centimeters between each one, so they ended up as a large square shaped collage. Only one was done so far, the one with the flowers. It had Dan with his head slightly tilted, looking off to the side with his lips pressed closed. Dan’s skin ended up a little paler than it was in real life, with his cheeks and lips a little extra pink to complement the flowers. His hair was softer looking than real life, the individual hairs not emphasized. All in all, he looked more like a porcelain doll than Phil had intended, but he wasn’t one to complain.

Phil typed up the card for it:

Phil Lester Subject Series: Ethereal (adj): extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

One down, four to go.

———

Phil waited for most of the students to leave the classroom, looking out for one in particular. But soon no one else really seemed to be leaving, so Phil shuffled over to the door, peeking in carefully like he was doing something he could get in trouble for. In reality, the only person he could actually get in trouble with was Mr. Hebbs, for leaving his independent study early to walk to the other side of the school. Except Mr. Hebbs didn’t care about things like that, so really, Phil’s caution was very unnecessary.

A few people remained in the class, putting away props or talking in small groups. Phil scanned it until he saw the familiar black shirt and brown hair. He hadn’t ever draw Dan from this perspective before- well actually, he’d really only drawn his portrait. Phil could do one where Dan’s arms were crossed in front and his back was bare. Backs were so cool to draw.

But that might look like Phil was looking for an excuse to draw Dan shirtless, which was not a normal friend thing to do, so he scrapped the idea.

(That was a lie. He actually put it in the ‘Work In Progress’ folder in his brain.)

The group Dan was talking to dispersed, and he looked down at his phone, completely oblivious to Phil creeping up behind him.

“Rah!”

Dan stumbled forwards, fumbling with his phone. When he met Phil’s gaze, his eyes were wide. “Phi-il!”

Phil stuck out his tongue as he laughed. “You voice just went up, like, two octaves!”

Dan brushed off his pants dramatically, not smiling, but not quite scowling either. “What do you want, pleb, now that you almost made me piss myself.”

Phil was still smiling. “You biking home? We could go together, you could come over if you want. It’s a lot more boring biking now that I have to go the long way around town.”

“I should shun you for scaring me like that. Alas, you still owe me fifteen pounds, so I shall wait until I’ve been paid to shun you.”

“Fifteen pounds?”

Dan smiled. “For modeling for you,” he said sweetly, pushing his curly fringe out of his face flirtatiously.

“So you’re not just doing that out of the goodness of your heart?” Phil joked.

“The goodness of my heart?” Dan scoffed. “Nonsense! I’ll have you know, Lester, that my heart is made out of pure coal.”

“Right. So, are you biking with me or not?”

“It depends. Do you have the money?”

“At home,” Phil promised, then cringed. “This feels dirty. Like you’re my drug dealer or something.”

“Daniel?” The teacher called out from behind her desk. “Are you leaving now?” A quick scan around confirmed that besides the teacher, they were the only ones left in the class.

“Oh, yes, sorry!” Dan rushed over to grab his backpack and he and Phil sped-walked out of the class. When Phil looked at Dan next, his cheeks were the same color as the tulips Kath liked to keep on their kitchen table, or #15 in his acrylic set. “Oops.”

———

They rode their bikes back to Phil’s house, then played video games there until Dan had to go home. He said a polite hello to Kath on his way out, and gave Phil a little wave goodbye.

“Who was that?” Kath asked after Dan had left.

Phil smiled casually. “That’s Dan, he’s a new student at school. I’m doing a painting project with him- well, of him.”

“Oh, what will it look like?”

“A few different pictures of him with different backgrounds that represent him. It’ll be mostly really soft pastel things.”

Kath looked back at the door even though Dan was long gone. “Huh. He didn’t really strike me as soft, especially with all that black.” Phil was about to argue when she cut him off. “But you’re the artist, do whatever you think would look best.”

———

Phil had set up his phone when Dan had left to go to the bathroom. The video was only four minutes long, but it had some good moments in it. Phil had stationed his phone under the tv so it filmed their faces straight on. He paused it a few times, screenshotting, until he got to the perfect point.

Phil stared at the image for a few moments. No. He couldn’t.

The picture was of Dan biting the video game controller, his competitiveness getting the best of him. Originally, he’d bitten the controller as a way to make fun of Phil’s habit of doing just that when the game got too stressful, but before long he was doing it without realizing it. The shot was very, very real, very candid, very original. It was also not pastel.

Oh well. Surely, Phil could put some sort of spin on it so it’d fit his theme. He wanted these painting to really represent Dan’s personality, that soft side he’d seen earlier in the day when the teacher embarrassed him. The real Dan.

He pulled out canvas number two and got ready to go to work.

———

Another store was broken into, though this time the criminal left without stealing anything. Phil didn’t bother reading the full article, scanning for the important parts. He’d have to continue taking the long way home, and the small store owners downtown would have to continue spending their money on security that shouldn’t be needed instead of more important things. The identity of the shooter remained unknown.

“I hate this,” Dan ranted, dumping out the dirty water with so much force that Phil almost felt the need to protect his canvas. “How dare they? I heard that it might be more than one person doing it, too.”

“Like, a gang?”

Dan scowled, shaking his head. “Worse. People saw one person doing it and getting away with it, plus getting a bunch of media coverage. It’s a low life’s dream.”

“I heard there’s going to be a protest later,” Phil recalled. “A bunch of the business owners are marching down to the police station and asking them why they aren’t doing more.”

“Meanwhile, people are in the hospital, and the government hasn’t even mentioned it.” Dan sighed, rubbing his hands on his pants. “I don’t hate the government or anything, but they’re completely pointless if they’re idle. There are people out there with guns, literally shooting people and causing chaos, and our leaders are silent.”

———

The second painting took longer to make. Phil wanted this one more realistic and it as harder to paint the way Dan was biting the controller.

When it was done, he typed up the description on the document with the other one:

Phil Lester Subject Series: Zealous (adj.): having great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause or an objective.

———

“We don’t think that there will be any attempted robberies on our store, armed or otherwise,” the balding manager explained. “However, it is important to go over procedures like these from time to time. If an armed robber enters the store and demands money, we ask that you are complacent. There is a panic button under each of the registers that you can press, which will alert the police station.”

“Will an alarm sound?”

The officer standing next to the manager adjusted her ponytail. “No. The panic button won’t set off any alarms or give you away.”

Someone directly behind Phil spoke up, startling him slightly. “Has a panic button ever worked?”

The officer smiled reassuringly. “They haven’t been used much in our city, but earlier this week one was pressed by mistake, so we are assured that they work just fine.”

Phil’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped it out, checking the screen.

From: Dan Do you wanna hang out Saturday?

From: Phil I thought you had work?

From: Dan Lol I was fired

From: Phil Why???

From: Dan … They didn’t like the way I dusted We on for Saturday??

From: Phil Sure

———

“It’s perfect. Phil, can you help me get the camera ready? I want to take your picture under the cherry blossom tree.”

Phil made a face. It turned out Dan hadn’t just intended to make Phil pay him for his ‘modeling’, but planned to make Phil follow through with the entire deal. That meant Phil had to be the model for a change, so Dan could take pictures of him for his art project, in the advanced photography class Dan was underqualified for. And Phil had to help him use the camera, because, oh right, Phil had lied to him about being in a photography class too. Phil couldn’t even remember why he lied, but he did, and now he was eating his words.

They went up to the tree and Dan inspected it with a critical gaze. Phil did too, but for a different reason. “No way this is a cherry blossom tree. Do those even grow here?”

Dan shrugged, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the tree. “I don’t know what it is, but here it is. Can you stand by the trunk?”

Phil stood by the trunk and Dan handed him the camera expectantly. Phil fiddled with it, pretending that he knew what he was doing, though he probably wasn’t very convincing, as it took him about three minutes to realize the reason nothing was showing up on the screen was because the lense cap was still on.

After at least another ten minutes, they had the camera working and adjusted to the sunlight.

“What was the assignment again?” Phil asked, getting progressively more nervous the more Dan fiddled with the camera.

“Rule of thirds or something, idk. I’m pretty sure it’s just making sure you have three focal points, which I have. You, the tree trunk, and the flowers.”

Phil shuffled uncomfortably. He may not have held a camera since sixth grade, but the rule of thirds was not exclusive to Photography. “I think you’re thinking about something else. The rule of thirds is where the subject of the art only takes up one third of the space.”

Dan looked up from the camera, genuinely surprised. “Oh. I guess I’ll have to back up then.” He ducked under the drooping ribbons of pink flowers and Phil listened to his footsteps walks away, chewing on his lip nervously.

“Should I come out, or—?”

“No, that’s perfect! Move your feet together!”

Phil did as he was told. He stood so his feet were almost together, with both of his hands hanging limply by his side. He tried to make a normal face, though he wasn’t sure how Dan could see him through the thick flowers.

After a long minute, Dan exclaimed “Got it!”

Phil happily ducked under the flowery branches, meeting Dan on the other side where he showed him the viewfinder of the camera. Phil blinked. “It’s…”

“It’s cool, right? I feel so hipster and artsy.”

“It’s cool,” Phil agreed, still taking it in. The picture didn’t have his face- in fact, it hardly had his torso at all. The picture showed the entirety of the blossom tree, framed on either sky with an intense blue sky, darker than normal as the sun just barely began to set. Underneath trees flowers were Phil’s legs with his hands on either side. “Yeah. I like it a lot.”

Dan smiled widely, taking the camera back and flipping through the pictures. “Thanks! I’ll have to choose my favorite one and then edit it, which I don’t actually know how to do-”

“Hey Dan?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I see the camera for a second?”

Dan gave him a curious look but handed it over. Phil messed with it for a second before finding the off switch and putting it back in its case, carefully hiding in in his backpack he’d left on the grass.

“Phil-”

Phil looked up, giving Dan a small, almost sad smile. “Hey Dan?”

Dan swallowed. “Yeah?”

“You’re it!” Phil clumsily tapped Dan on the shoulder, sprinting past him.

Dan was so shocked it took him a moment to react. “What! Lester!”

Phil laughed, trying to run faster, but within moments Dan was gaining. “How are you so fast?! On a bike is one thing, but-” Phil cut himself off with an annoyed noise as Dan smacked him on the arm, turning and sprinting in the other direction. “Agh!”

Dan’s laugh echoed as he ran away, Phil in hot pursuit. “You’ll never catch me! I am the jolteon of humans!”

Phil cupped his hands around his mouth as he yelled “Nerd!”

Dan turned, running along the edge of a small grassy hill. “Slowpoke!”

Phil forced himself to run even faster, despite his aching lungs. He refused to lose to Dan again.

He swiped at Dan, mumbling in annoyance when he missed. Dan cackled, turning his head to look back at Phil. He turned back and immediately stumbled, tripping and rolling. Phil tried to stop so quickly he ended up stumbling over the same rock and found himself toppling down the hill, the entire world becoming a blur of grass and sky. He’d seen photos that people had taken as then rolled down grassy hills like this one, and for the first time in a long time, he found the urge to get into photography again.

He gave up trying to slow his descent and gave in, tucking his arms in to protect his face and letting his body speed up.

There was the blue and there was the green, the green that was the true definition of ‘grassy green’ and Phil had never thought it was that nice of a color but it really was. Then there was the slight dizziness, and the unmistakable sound of Dan laughing, and Phil found himself not minding the downhill lull anymore.

He slowed to a stop as the hill flattened out. One more half roll and he was face to face with Dan, laying on the soft ground with grass in his hair, trying to hide his wide smile with his hands.

Phil didn’t even try to hide his smile, rolling over a little and tapping Dan lightly. “You’re it.”

———

The painting showed Dan with grass in his hair, grinning from ear to ear as the bright blue sky blurred behind him.

Celeste (adj): belonging or relating to heaven.

———

Phil pushed the door open hesitantly, looking around. As soon as they heard the door open, a large woman hurried over to the sandwich counter. “Hi, how can I help you?”

Dan followed Phil in, both still looking around. “Um, hi, are you open?”

“We are. Though we haven’t been getting much traffic lately.”

“Since the shootings,” Dan translated grimly.

She nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately. But the sandwiches are as good as ever, what can I get for you?”

They ordered, paying individually then going to table to eat their sandwiches. “I’m getting closer to finishing the paintings,” Phil announced. “The theme I was going for was kind of lost, but I think it will still be fine. What’d… the Photography teacher say about the cherry blossom picture?”

Dan had just taken a huge bite of his sandwich right before Phil asked him, and he made a face, trying to swallow it but failing to. “She liked it,” he answered when he’d gotten most of it down. He wiped his mouth, swallowing again. “She wants to hang it in one of the hallways for the rest of the semester.”

Phil choked on his sandwich. “Actually?”

Dan smirked. “Literally all you can see of you is your legs and hands. And it’s a good picture, you shouldn’t be self conscious.”

“But still… I don’t know how I feel about my picture being in the hallway.”

Dan leaned on his elbow, smiling at Phil a little too sweetly. “Mr. Hebbs was setting up the folding panels to display your classes latest project on. Which I believe is the Subject Series, with my face in literally every single painting of yours.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine. You can hang up my pictures if I can hang up yours.”

“Deal.”

They talked for a little longer until they finished their sandwiches and brought the wrappers to the trash. The woman from earlier came over, wiping down the table. “Thanks,” Phil said. “The sandwiches were great.”

“I’m glad you liked them!”

“Do you mind if we hang out here for a while?” Dan asked, looking around. Besides the sandwich counter, there were a few rows of shelves with different fancy looking foods stacked on it.

“Go for it, I’ll just be cleaning up back here but if you need anything, let me know! My name’s Bertha.”

They looked around for a while. There was a shelf full of fancy olives that they looked at, making fun of the names and trying to make bad innuendos with some of them.

“Extra stuffed. Mmm.”

Phil shoved him gently, smiling. “What about this one? ‘Chopped red’.”

Dan shivered, “it sounds like a murder scene.”

“Did I show you that thing?” Phil wondered aloud.

“‘That thing?’”

“The… goose thing? Here, I’ll show you.” Phil pulled up the article on his phone, handing it over to Dan who began to read it quietly. It was so quiet that when the door opened, they both heard it clearly.

Loud footsteps and then the sound of something being dropped on the counter. “Anyone there?” A gruff male voice said.

“I’ll be right there!” Bertha replied, hurrying over. “What can I-” she stopped mid sentence.

Phil peered through the wire shelves, trying to see what was happening. There was another row of shelves between them and the other customer, making it difficult, and even when Phil managed to see through them, it took a moment to process. He’d seen guns on tv, and he’d seen bigger guns carried by police in other countries, but it was the first one he’d ever seen in England. It was so small, so unassuming, but still it made Bertha’s smile drop and the color from her face drain. He gestured towards his bag and she opened the cash register, slowly moving the money into his bag. There wasn’t much there.

Phil tapped Dan urgently, covering his mouth for a second when Dan opened it to say something. He pointed to what was happening, and watched as Dan went from confusion to shock to something else.

The man turned around, walking over to the shelves where they were hidden. Phil gestured for them to crouch. That was what you were always supposed to do, you were supposed to crouch, make yourself smaller, do your best to hide. Escape if you could, but if that wasn’t an option, then learn to breathe a little quieter.

And Dan, poor Dan. Poor pastel-souled, gentle Dan, with his soft curls and brushed pink cheeks. He stared at the man through the shelves intensely, not even blinking. He held his phone so tightly his knuckles were white.

The man was less than a meter from them. Phil squeezed his eyes shut, staying perfectly still as the steps got closer. A small gun and an even smaller bullet and just like that, it would all be over.

But the bullet didn’t come. Phil opened his eyes and immediately caught onto the dirty jeans on the other side of the shelf. He hadn’t seen them.

Dan nudged him, making intense eye contact and holding a finger in front of his own mouth, then he stood. Phil tried to pull him back down, but Dan just carefully stepped away, knowing Phil wouldn’t dare make a noise at a time like this.

“That’s all there is,” Bertha announced in a monotone. The man turned around quickly and for a moment Dan was frozen. Then he kept moving, walking slowly to the side of the shelves.

“You think I’m fucking stupid? Where’s the rest?”

“There isn’t any—”

The man pointed the gun straight through the shelf, right at her. “I know how these businesses work. There’s always a safe.”

Bertha was a statue. “There isn’t a safe. Or if there is, I don’t know where it is, I’m new—” the man cocked the gun and Bertha became more desperate. “Honest! I have money, I’ll get you that, but there isn’t—”

“Get me your money. All of it. Then we’ll take a look around and see if we can find the safe, and you’d better hope we can.” He brought the gun back down, but didn’t put it away.

Phil didn’t dare turn around, but he could feel Dan standing next to him, as still as a statue. The man turned around, picking something up off of the shelf, and that’s when Dan made his move.

He walked forwards quickly, raising his phone in his hand and slamming it down on the man’s head. He stumbled forwards, more annoyed than hurt, and Dan jumped on his back, wrapping an arm around his throat. Then it was all a blur- the man yelled out, Bertha was calling 999, the man lifted the gun, Phil stood up, Dan grabbed a can of extra stuffed and broke it over his head. The gun went off, another broken jar of olives to the man’s face, there was a fight and it didn’t seem anyone was winning and then they toppled into the first metal shelf and five dozen jars of fancy sandwich toppings rained down on them, followed by the shelf. They fell to the ground, crushed under the heavy shelf. Then Dan was free and the man was almost free, but Dan had an aluminum can of something in his shaking hands that he brought down on the man’s head with a “Fuck! You!”

Then there was the police and Dan was in handcuffs and the man was unconscious and Phil was still just standing there.

———

Phil had finished all five of the paintings.

They were completed, all with their printed out labels. The hallway was quiet as Phil carefully hung them on the folding platform, arranged just as he’d planned from the beginning. There was the Ethereal painting with soft, porcelain Dan; the zealous painting with Dan gnawing on the gaming control; and the celestial painting, with a smiling Dan laying at the bottom of that hill with grass in his mocha curls.

Then there were the two other paintings, the newer ones. The fourth painting was a side profile of Dan with shadows covering half of his face. The side of his face that could be see was deathly intense, a somber anger that Phil had failed to identify that day in the sub shop. That painting was tilted Undaunted (adj): not intimidated or discouraged by difficulty, danger, or disappointment.

The final painting was of Dan a week after the incident. They were walking along an empty school hallway after class had ended. Dan was wearing a black hoodie, his hands in his pockets. He stood tall with a confidence that Phil supposed was always there, but he’d never really noticed. The painting was from the front perspective, with Dan smiling that smile he only really gave to Phil, his head tilted to the side.

Dan had been walking beside him, maybe a little in front. He turned around, giving Phil that fond smile. “I feel like you have the wrong idea of me. Like, you think I’m this shy, timid person or something, or like I’m really innocent or soft or something.”

Dan hadn’t gotten in trouble for attacking the man with the gun. He’d been told he should’ve avoided confrontation if possible, but he didn’t get in trouble with anyone besides his mom, who’d given him a ‘stern talking to’.

Phil had wiped his hands on his shirt. “I don't think that,” he lied. Sometimes it seemed as though he only lied around Dan.

“Okay. Just checking.”

Phil adjusted the last canvas, the painting from that day.

Enigmatic (adj): difficult to interpret or understand.

He stepped back, admiring his work. It was the first time he’d seen them all together. Ethereal, zealous, celestial, undaunted, enigmatic. Soft, competitive, radiant, unyielding, mysterious.

Mr. Hebbs came up beside him, admiring the work with a quiet appreciation. Phil crossed his arms, feeling the exhaustion from the last few weeks finally set it.

“He looks so different in each one,” Mr. Hebbs commented quietly. “Which one is he really?”

Phil looked at each painting again, individually. Soft, competitive, radiant, unyielding, mysterious.

He sniffled. “I don’t know.”

The End.

#highschool #highschool!au #high school #phan #dan and phil #the #subject #series #phanfic #phanfiction #prb #phandom reverse bang #fanfic

70 notes · View notes

muggycuphead · 3 years

Text

TH!FPA_VB – Lord of Lies and Deceiving

Yo, been a while since I posted something on this account, but here we are, back at it again with a casual VB drawing like in good ol’ 2020

…Though, this time things got built on a different road of events as you can see, not to mention this is a spoiler to what’s to come for VB (but tbh I stopped caring at this point so yea)

First and for most however, there are quite a few questions surrounding this fic’s development I have to answer for our sake (mostly mine since I feel like mold spaghetti for not keeping up on things oml-)

Yes, I once said VB was on the way of getting completed and all that, I know

Problem is, the changes I want to do to the ‘lore’ (if you want to call it that way idk) are also retroactive to the events in the present timeline (aka past events that are mentioned but not entirely shown because ugh-), some characters that have some relevancy on the story but only come up at the very end chapters on VB itself, etc. etc. which are things that I personally find bothersome as its writer and the reason why I’d rather not make the ‘sequel-prequel’ of it where things get explained and all that

Instead, I’ll fuse both VB and TAF (the sequel-prequel’s name acronym standing for ‘The ‘ANOMALY’ files’ fyi) so it can focus on one party alone and I don’t waste any more time than what I already have done so (haha funny cuz me late to party amiriteeeimsorry-)

…And about the format for it, I’ve decided I’ll ‘upgrade’ it to a comic instead since y’know, I do art and it’ll also make my writing simpler so yea

Still tho, I’m kinda paranoic on if I should get going with the prologue by the time I finish its script or not since I don’t wanna make the plot a mess or leave things (important* things) unfolded by accident, but we’ll see how it goes (and hopefully I’ll make it out alive-)

Also, keep in mind that by the moment I’m writing this, I’m stuck in the Friday Night Fuc- I mean Funkin’ fandom, and y’all know what happens when the fandom switching happens…

My concept-creation-obssessive-self starts grinding gears like cuckoo -doesn’t mean I’ll abandon everyone else tho, it’s just that my focus splits on multiple parts and all that balloney

So, now that I did my little defense statement up there, let’s get rolling to the mainpoint down here

First, who’s this spider guy?

Well, he’s a ‘side’ antagonist, more specifically the person DPM is after (but doesn’t realize he is until very later)

His name is Q-Ross Sid, a ‘camel spider’ that lives in the Spider Kingdom as the royal executioner and prison head-guard/-caretaker

He’s what I’d consider to be an ‘anomaly’, since he’s a genetic fusion of graphite (20%), chalk (10%) and correcting fluid (70%), with the graphite being his ‘stabilizer’ component (osseous structure and skin/muscular tissue mostly) and the chalk his ‘cooler’ component (mostly on his defense and assimilation mechanism), not to mention he can only consume either correcting fluid matter derivatives…and/or ink matter derivatives, including living beings (mostly as an energy source and which his body somehow can partially convert into graphite)

…And by that fact alone you can tell that yes, he killed Isea -also known as Dizzy/Izzy Pants Girl (YESss I fINALLY GAVE HER A NICK ASDFGH-) in VB mostly due to her ‘special ability’ and stuff- by Queen Aris’ command. And yes, he can shapeshift, which explains why he got DPM to blame FPM for what happened, this that (but I think you might have figure it out already by the drawing alone so yea-)

However, although at first I thought his ability would be limited to mimick FPM’s appearance only, I now decided to amplify it a little, and instead he can shapeshift into any sketch/graphite-alike/related being, with FPM being his ‘link’ to them most of the time (stalkey tatics are not okey dokey my man but you do you I guess)

Though he can only shapeshift into stickfigs since he doesn’t have that much of ‘color filling’ for a human drawing itself (yeah ik they’re humanized in the story but things will make sense sooner or later I promise, for now just bear with me as we go on on this plz), and he cannot shapeshift into ink/liquid-alike/related beings because they’re not compatible and it’ll only lead him to corrupt his physical form –not meaning he can’t recover from it tho

But he can’t replicate them entirely, as his eyes and the ring are the two main red flags to spot him (but with some contact lenses and a little pocket, it can be fixed y’know-)

As for his robotic arm, it was after a fight that I’ll rather not explain due to not being that relevant; and even thought doctors refused to give him a prosthesis at first since he could simply let it rebuild naturally (yes he can regen too, but in a slower phase bc reasons), he got it anyways due to the fact limbs regen take way longer than physic injuries and/or internal damage (some even assumed that they probably wouldn’t actually regen anyway), which can be a bother on his job most of the time…and maybe out of spite too –he wanna look tough, yo-

Fun fact, during the hype I got from making this bad boi, I ended up attaching him to grandson’s song called ‘Blood/Water’ due to the lyrics kinda resembling his defamatory actions towards FPM (and also his wild and sometimes desperate hunger towards ink beings, yikes)

Second, what’s VB’s main plotline now and why did I expand it?

To resume it in the ‘signature phrase’ I made for the new version (which was also inspired on MARETU’s ‘Magical Doctor’ song –mandoilovethisvocaloidsongcomposerasdfgh)

**THIS WASN’T MEANT TO HAPPEN**

Venomous Bittersweet (which I’ll rename in the future due to the fusion with TAF) started off with a simple plot -FPM going on a mission for himself to get cured from a spider bite he got all of a sudden, but failing in the process (bc plot convenience idk) and CPG is the one who goes to his rescue instead while showing off the things she learned from him, this that, wholesome ending blah blah blah- you know the drill if you read it to end.

But by the moment I began making those little ‘inside stories’ –specially DPM’s backstory explaining why he became so reckless and outgoing- I started to extent myself on how things worked on this AU, even how drawings come to life (ik it’s weird but that’s how I though it to be so ff-), and by such I felt the urge to give almost everything a background story, such as Aris’ reason to kidnap and take control over FPM’s body and mind (and maybe his soul too oops-), the Spider Kingdom’s origin and even the portals and ‘reality deterioration’ in SFPA, passing by DPM’s origins and stuff.

And even if I felt like hitting walls and taking things a little too in-depth most times, I think it did bring some good things for the new plotline I’m going for now

So, in the new story, all the weird, whacky (and disturbing) things that happen after SFPA and during OG VB plotline came by what I’d express as some sort of ‘time-space anomaly’ that made everything slightly unstable on the ‘other side’ of the studio (I won’t explain too much my brain is about to boil rn so take that as you will for now tysm), having a passive (but not unnoticeable) effect on the sketchbooks.

I can’t give much context why, how or where did the anomaly came to be exactly (you can make theories if you like, I’d love to read them 4real <3), but it’s main purpose is to take control over all existing worlds just to corrupt them to its will, to the point there is basically nothing left but despair and desolation to which all entities will be forced to endure and all that edgy jazz.

…And by that, the ‘anomaly’ will create incompatible matter amalgams –ink and graphite being the most coming-to-mind example in the story so far- in order to conquer all the sketchbooks, but as a consequence of this ‘anomaly’s’ arise, new worlds came to be fully developed (in other words, they finally exist as a whole), and with that, new ‘heroes’ are brought into the situation, each representing a type of artistic material alone –watercolor, oil paint, etc-, heroes with which FPM will encounter and interact with, as he’ll also help them in how to use their abilities to fight the baddies and stuff.

And because we need conflict to make things interesting, Q-Ross and DPM indirectly (but kinda) ‘team up’ to fabricate fake evidence and such in order to mess with FPM’s reputation towards the heroes by incriminating him and/or even mislead his actions (confusing wrong by right and vice versa, etc.) (because ink man is salty and corrector ass is a dick by nature –ofc), and even ocassionally with Q-Ross starting the job, just to get DPM to finish it; and sometimes they get the aforesaid characters to hold grudges –if it comes to succeed, or instead making them get more on his side by the same feeling of doubt –if they mess up on something, no matter the size.

As about his sickness, well, it also got a little twist.

We know that new worlds and material compositions come with new squiggle types, and even if ‘dust-related’ types don’t affect him for too long –chalk being the closest example I can bring up-, liquid or clayish matters, such as oil and crayon squiggles respectively, are toxic towards him, so in the way the more he interacts with incompatible squiggles, the more harmed his health condition gets, to the point it grips into the weakest part of his body –his core (I’ll later explain this just…let me get this out first plz), which limits him on doing most things he’s used to do normally.

…And well, the spider bite (which is also an abnormal matter amalgam times two, though I’ll keep it secret for now) was the last nail in the coffin on fucking him up entirely to a new level of corruption (damn is that a stretch I’m seeing-)

Long story short, this was also because I wanted ArPM to have a backstory that’s more than just ‘I’m evil nao bc me get poisond and mindcontrold by spoders out of spite hahahaha-’

Third (and lastly), who’s Ahetzo exactly and what’s his main purpose on the story?

This is a short one

In case you didn’t see my tweet on my Twitter account (here a linkie), this is a side character I made that’s supposed to be some kind of ‘spirit’ or something alike who’s the one in charge of the studio while ya dev boi is gone

In other words, he’s basically like Brad’s subconscious self (IK YIKES- YOU CAN HIT ME WITH THE CHAIR NOW I WON’T MIND-)

…and even though he tried to keep the anomaly thing contained as long as he could while figuring out how to disarm it or at least neutralize it (yes it was there way before, like during fpaw3 events or before so because AU logic lol), the more he tried to condense it, the more it multiplied itself until, well, y’know, shit blew up and everything just sdfghjk’d

And yes, he was the one who released the new worlds to keep the crazy stuff at range, this that

Oml my brain-

And before I finish here, I’d like to make a little ‘self-critic’ regarding my artwork here…and I gotta say, I’m really proud of it on most parts

As I began to retake on digital art lately –mostly due to my slight entering onto the FNF/partially NG communities and other things, I’ve been testing out new techniques and stuffs on GIMP 2 with the ‘routes’ tool and all that (that’s also why it looks almost symmetrical, but don’t fool urself it did took its time-), I even corrected some of the lines to make them sharp and fancy (haha funi joek im so quirkee-)

In here, I wanted to try mixing both solid and blurry shadows as well as replicating a ‘crystalish’ effect –as seen on Q-Ross’ eyes- and some line effects with the ink tool such as the liquid dripping out of Q’s mouth (yes that correcting fluid saliva now stfu-) and the graphite/correctfluid webs coming out of his clawtips/fingertips

And though I haven’t made an official palette for him, I think the colors I picked here suit him well enough in my own idea of such

Overall, I had fun making this, and I love how it came out

Still though, any criticism, opinion and commentary is welcome, both about my art piece and my little showcase over here

That’s all I got for now, see you all later on

K bai-

#The Fancy Pants Adventures franchise (C) belongs to Brad Borne (DrNeroCF) on NewGrounds #FPAVB + Q-Ross Sid| Artwork (C) belong to me

0 notes