#callouttothefallout

[loveoaths]

YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!!! THE GIRL WHO COULD NOT ESCAPE HER CAGE BECAUSE IT WAS IN HER BONES! YEAH! I LOVE IT!!!

i love the idea of Force-ghosts manifesting in one of two ways: as the self the dead sees themself as, or how the viewer sees them.

qui-gon is almost exactly how obi-wan remembers him, because qui-gon embodied himself fully at all times. perhaps he’s a little bit taller and his hair a little shinier, but he’s nearly a one-to-one of how he once was.

anakin is two broken things mashed together into the facsimile of a whole. he is a beautiful young man, golden and arrogant, but beneath his veins magma burns deadly hot. his eyes are golden, his hands are smoking black metal, and his rib cage is cracked open and dripping with mustafar’s black hatred and the all-encompassing love of his youth. his heart is exposed, you can see it pump pump pump, and when he speaks there is an echo to it, something ancient and analog to it that makes your skin crawl.

padme has three faces. one, the painted red queen of naboo, distant and powerful, detached but yearning. the other, the blue lipped senator, patron saint of dutiful justice, but her eyes are closed to the evil brewing before her very eyes. and the last is a plain little girl, because even at the height of her authority she never stopped seeing herself as someone small trying so hard to fill the massive expectations of her predecessor.

obi-wan is half here, half gone. his crow’s feet and silver hair age him like time ages wine, and his voice is softer, less sure than it was in his prime. his time on tattooine, his failures as a student, a master, a general, and a friend haunt him; there are heavy bags beneath his eyes that he carries silently, as he has done for many years. sometimes his features appear fuzzy and smudged, as if the sands of time have worn them away; everything about him, in fact, is slightly opaque, with his edges loose and drifting in particulate to return to the force, a constant stream of energy working to fortify his spirit at the same time as his spirit washes away into nothingness, and back again, over and over, worried like a stone between a river’s lips. sometimes he is only a blurry outline and a pursed mouth. but when he smiles, he sharpens into being again, and for a brief flash you can see him as he was in his prime, back straight and prissy with that old twinkle back in his glittering his eyes.

[coffeecakecafe]

Have you sold prints of Oberon before? I absolutely love the character design and your works with him.

I haven't! I do have a semi-defunct society6 I could revive and throw some things up on though, if anyone is interested in having prints?

and thank you! he is my darlingest boy I love making dramatic art about him :D