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Cerberus - from a Greek mythology, a multi-headed hound creature guarding the Underworld gates🌑.

-> I had a great fun with the #instaloop animation app! Tried to put more darky-hellish tone into this picture😼.

->Also, the final piece is definitely the biggest one which I made with watercolor/gouache technique.

Cerberus - 16.53 x 23.39 in, graphite with watercolors on a paper☕️

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I play around a little with my electric guitar and bass creating small tunes and recording them. It’s a great little hobby that I wish I could do more with now and again. I use these recordings as track music for my speed drawing videos. Be creative!

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Finished some revisions for my story and then got the idea to make a “resume” for my Tiefling Rogue that I am playing for a Waterdeep  D&D  campaign. I also realized this would probably be a fun way to teach students about making a fun and dynamic resume of their own!

I used a template from Word 2016 to make the resume, and the forgottenrealms fandom page to fill in info like character and location names.

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Lion of the Eightfold Star -Luvview, 2020

Finally finished this lion piece. Learned so much in the process about propotions in animal facial anatomy and also how to do shading values with ink washes.

I might make scans of it eventually but this was a piece that really taught me alot when i worked on it. Was inspired while reading about Inanna Ishtar on wikipedia (sort of an ancient mesopotamian precursor to athena and aphrodite. total badass. look her up)

Wanna tip me so that I can keep doing this? Here’s my ko-fi!

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Blissful moments

Dancing behind my eyelids

Wistful memories

I wish to see again

Feelings unresolved

Strapped to me like shackles

Stirring into my energies

Attacking my vibe like jackals

I know the journey will be long

To get back to my wishful state

I will push myself to become a better a version of me

I’m really sorry I can’t be more specific about when that will be

My desire to better myself didn’t come with a time or date.

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He took her soul

With both his hands

And squeezed

He grabbed it


Like a stress ball

At the bus stop

And she poured out onto the pavement

Saltwater onto hot concrete she flowed

Empty within the second

Without her contents

Unable to push back

Against the skin of his hands

She was dull

No fun to play with

Just a wet patch

By a garden wall

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Schools of fish pass by, but the tall man doesn’t notice. His eyes are fixated on the glass in front of him, a perfect display of the depthless ocean that surrounds him. Yet the view fades behind his own reflexion. 

Grey hair is peppered throughout his short curls. Months ago, they weren’t there. Neither were the dark circles under his grey eyes. Even his skin is grey, deprived of artificial sunlight from spending so many hours in his office. His old age sneaked up on him, rendering him bland. 

A Great White glides passed him. Beady, soulless eyes trailed by a large fin swaying back and forth lazily. The King of the Waters. Free to do as he wishes. Creatures cower in his wake, knowing better than to face the rows of pointed teeth. 

The man grins, wrinkles creasing. Such a beautiful beast

His gaze shifts to the hundreds of glass globes before him, seemingly unending. His own kingdom, Nepturi, given to him as a birthright. His eyes skim over them, counting each one. The numbers tally up, each a part of his possession. 

“Emperor Aul,” a familiar voice says as its owner enters the dark office. No lights are on, only the fragmented rays of sunlight able to reach through the ocean’s blue waters illuminate the room. 

Cathan turns around, his movements lazy. His back faces the vast biome, like a king standing before his kingdom. Feigning boredom, he slowly sits at his desk, facing his guest. “Commander Ray, please sit.” The politeness is mocking, but the Commander forces a grateful smile. 

“I’m afraid I cannot, there is a pressing issue at hand.” 

Cathan doesn’t flinch or lean forward. He remains slouched in his seat, an impassive face staring back at the Commander, who skirms in his spot. 

Everything is calculated. Every movement the Commander makes is noted, every word is carefully scrutinized. Any sign of defiance ready to be squashed by the powerful jaws of the Emperor’s power. A sliver of pride erupts deep inside his heart, proud of his might. 

Cathan Aul is the Great White of the City of Globes. Let them cower in my presence, says the demon inside him. Painfully slow, a grin spreads across his lips as if carved by a knife. “And what is this pressing issue, Commander?” 

“A prison break occurred exactly an hour ago.” The words are carefully let out. The bad news has yet to come. “The Doctor has escaped.”

Everything stills. No fish or sharks pass by the glass wall. The air grows cool as if Hell froze over, leaving the earth shivering and bare. 

Cathan’s grin widens dangerously. Beads of sweat roll down the Commander’s pale forehead, his dark beard catching each one like a fish net. To his credit, he keeps his dark eyes fixated on the Emperor. 

“I’m struggling to understand how the most secure cell in my prison was breached.” 

“Traitors of the prison guard, Your Majesty. Seems like the Doctor has many followers, more than we estimated.” 

Such disobedience. Schools of fish can gather like an army, but the jaws of the great white will win nonetheless. 

Rising to his feet, the Emperor returns to the glass wall behind his desk. The Commander flinches at the sudden movement. Aul’s blank eyes pore over the globes, counting them again. So many fish, but how many rising up against their King? 

“We are still in possession of the file. No matter what he tries, the Doctor won’t be able to sway the whole city against the throne.” Adds the Commander. When noticing His Majesty’s continued silence, he tries again. “We don’t know where he’s hiding, but intels have mentioned they’ve found his son. He’s hiding in Pearl Harbor.” 

At this, the Emperor’s eyes shift to a globe nearly too far to see. Pearl Harbor. He lets the Commander shift uncomfortably behind him, the awaited answer sitting purposefully on his tongue. Each second of silence makes the air grow denser, until a deranged sound escapes the man’s throat as if unable to breathe. Fear is a powerful claw. 

Finally, Cathan lets out the words in a calm manner, every syllable injected with more venom than the last. “Find his son, and if he escapes my prison, Commander, you will face the torture I have planned for his father.” 

The man bows as quickly as he can before scurrying out, the heavy doors of the office nearly slamming shut behind him. 

A set of pearly white teeth glimmer in the reflection on the glass. Hungry and dangerous, like the jaws of a Great White ready to drain life out of its prey. 

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