a neon future

happy tumblr has verdana and helvetica

[aneonfuture]

GENI██IES

[aneonfuture]

VIA VIA VIA

Now on Imgur

https://imgur.com/user/aneonfuture

Please call me names there

The Other Spots: https://twitter.com/Akinshire

https://www.deviantart.com/akinshire

https://www.instagram.com/aneonfuture/

https://aneonfuture.tumblr.com/ (hey that’s you)

[aneonfuture]

WELCOME TO THE NEW MONTH! WE HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY

[aneonfuture]

FILTERED SEARCH

We hope you find everything you need!

[aneonfuture]

05/03/1340

Acquired by the Grand Coalition

[aneonfuture]

You can save money today

[aneonfuture]

SAMIchen.

We back in business with Tumblr.

[aneonfuture]

Stiff pose, janky perspective, and rough brushwork, but still looking better than Tumblr at the moment. Bet you weren’t prepared for a relevant joke.

Anyways, I’ve started a series of 1000 unrelated images just because it sounded like fun. However, this’ll likely be the first and last one I’ll post here. Miss me with being considered lewd for no reason. Moderator bots have some weird kinks.

Here’s the links to everywhere else I lurk:

Twitter

Gram

I’ll be making a fresh blog eventually for both writing stuff and art stuff, expect a link to that anywhere else I lurk.

[ruin19-approfonde]

The Warrior

I pulled up a chair next to the fellow, the rickety, heavy thing sending a shriek across the otherwise quiet tavern. The barkeep kept his steady gaze out the open window, my seat only catching the attention of the man I decided to speak with. His short stature easily gave away that he was of northern decent. I’d go as far as saying he came from the capital up there, the Grand Palace Neich, what with his aura of a warrior-like pride. Despite him sharpening away at his hefty blade, I could tell he appreciated some attention. “‘Scuse my curiosity,” I spoke, “But those don’t look like any typical northern garb. I don’t quite know how to ask this without sounding blunt, but what is it you do?”

His baggy, shoddy clothes rustled roughly as he turned, a subtle chain clinking beneath. Now with a better view, I could see a small emblem on his open tunic, one of a striking cloud partially captured within a metal square. He shot me a grin, a set of rather mangled teeth revealing themselves. The young man responded, “Why, I’m a student of combat. More specifically, The Strike itself.”

I knew it, he was the warrior type all along. My friends and I quite like meeting those types of strangers. They had a certain cloying passion that was both inspiring and great joke material for nights of drinking. I do stay careful to not let them know of course. Naturally, I had to pry a little deeper to get to the true gold. I raised my eyebrows as if I were interested, saying, “The Strike? Go on then, tell me more. I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with it.”

The barkeep’s eyes cut towards me as he noticed my intentions. Instead of interrupting, he quietly exhaled an annoyed breath through his nose, looking back towards the night sky. The stranger hadn’t a clue, however. It’s not like it would change his words if he did though. He continued on, saying, “It’s just that, the single most important hit, the magnum opus of our careers. We train day in and day out, yet never throw a single blow. Never a mere slash. Never a crumbling of bones beneath our hammers.”

He began to trail on for quite some time about his little training exercises and philosophies, mentioning vague terms and places I wouldn’t even know of if I were partially listening. I know it was rude, reaping the petty benefits of this conversation without sewing the fundamental seeds, but I had grown quite numb to the guilt. I’m sure the warrior felt nice to have got that off his chest, even to an unresponsive partner, right? Weaseling my way into the conversation once more, I had to be careful of what I chose to speak of. The more sentimental potential, the more amusing it’ll be in hindsight, I told myself. “But why’d you start doing this? It seems like an awful lot of work just for a single thing.”

“It is, trust me,” he says, “But I’d say it was worth it in the long run. I was a boy when I learned of The Strike. I had been juggled between the lines of typical, clientless craftsman and bandit far too many times. I knew that I would one day I’d pay for my devilish acts, but I had no clue it would come so soon. With the click of seven bizarre, royal blades, guards had me within arm’s length. They stared me down with their shadowed eyes, speaking their script of law as they prepared my arrest. I was trembling, the jewels I had stolen shimmering to the ground one by one. Then, in a moment of serendipity, an odd-looking woman stepped into view. She saw me, her blade by her side, and she claimed she recognized me. Two of the guards turned, one asking if I was of The Strike. She lied through her teeth, stating that I was and that The Strike would manage my punishment for them.”

I spewed out a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle, interrupting on instinct rather than strategy, “How is a punishment from an obscure faction ‘better in the long run,’ as you put it?”

He responded well to this. He might have noted that it seemed like a more genuine question, not just one to keep things moving, and he responded, “Because I haven’t got into a single fight since. My mind and soul are bonded to my future like a strange marriage. I know that no matter what, I could likely strike with more importance tomorrow. Even if the opportunity seems unforgettable, I know I’d regret it. I’d like to live on without the guilt of self-disappointment, as I’m sure most would.”

Like a beast in the bushes, his words could have be some sort of ravenous beast or a just plucky little bird. It didn’t help that in my little mental campsite that the barkeep’s smug smile wove a bit more tension in the scene. A bit flustered, I continue, instinctively throwing sticks and pebbles at the spoken creature, “So you’re a warrior that never strikes, is that right? Sounds a little confused if you ask me.”

I had immediately recoiled at my own words, wishing I had chosen something a bit more polite to say. Even if my intentions were not so, I would like to keep a positive face. I knew the damned boy would throw my words back at my face with a howling laughter, and I reddened by the moment with anger and dread. However, he paused.

The room went mostly silent. My nervous tapping of my foot lightly echoed across those paneled walls, and the wiping of glass brought me back to the quiet start of this whole conversation. Beetles clicked and flittered in the air, tapping against branches clumsily. Moths too flew about, but gathered near the flickering flames. Despite their tiny frame, their graceful, dusty movements cast far more shadow than the other insects, stumbling around in the dark. One such beetle flew into the room, slamming into the table with a light click. After a brief lapse in concentration and tension, I brought my eyes back to the slowly-rising brow of the warrior. He appeared more and more amused, a quiet smile creeping across his face. He opened his mouth, and I braced myself to control my anger. He tilted his head ever-so-slightly, saying with a subtle shrug, “You know, maybe I am confused.”

Damn him and his devilish grin, the barkeep’s too while I’m at it. Of course the witness made sure to bring up my failings that night to my colleagues. They managed to milk the moment of as much teasing as they could. Good riddance to the warrior, wherever he trailed off to.

I’ve got another post in the back, but I’m still back and forth on it. I’m satisfied with how it turned out, but it doesn’t lend itself to the more light-hearted parts I’m still trying to develop. It’s a tad too dramatic, as over-dramatizing and romanticizing is fun sometimes. I’m still considering posting it, so it’s still a possibility. Thanks for reading.

[aneonfuture]

Added more stuff to my writing blog. This’ll likely be one of if not the last time I reblog these just because I don’t want to clutter this quiet little blog. Gotta keep things neat and cozy.

[ruin19-approfonde]

Approfonde

    Approfonde, the quiet capital. Bulbous, misshapen buildings rise from the ground, carefully braced with wood. The wintery grasses sway in the whistling wind, ancient swifts flying overhead. They see children quietly playing, merchants silently selling. In their crates and their wagons are items from the strange roads out of the town. Twisted bottles, artifacts telling of the “one true god,” and ornate pan flutes all engraved with the names of grand artisans known across the land.

    In the farms are fields of a brown-red leaves and pudgy deer. Gatherers, as plentiful as the the harvest itself, tend to the fields, smiling and joking with strangers and friends alike. Lighthearted guards stand watch for any fox-hogs, shooing them off with a sudden mad dash. The townsfolk make jest of it, pointing and laughing. Of course, they get their moment too, being startled by the black, shining shells of beetles flying about. Their joy spreads like a plague, their giggling reaching the ears of the pub’s open windows.

    Adventurers share their wild tales there, speaking of forgotten crevices, mighty iron, and wondrous sites across the land. They share their accounts of the red, powerful fish to the north, and how they left their poles and spears snapped in two. They share their stories of the bizarre lore of cities far out, children and gatherers sitting in awe. They share a drink, clinking the sweet wine mugs without a care, for the most part. Perhaps a few had seen things they would rather forget.

    Perhaps they stumbled upon a family, accursed with the gift of magic. Their lives never the same, hunted by maniacs and unknowing of their own strength. Perhaps they stumbled across a beast, snarling and strange things not meant for these lands. Some so legendary, so venerable and undying that even the carnage they create is worth iron trusts. Worse yet, perhaps they stumbled across nations. Blades drawn, arrows nocked, and bandages prepared as the two wait out the tense showdown. Either side could be hostile, either side could be the end of an adventurer. It could simply be two patrols brushing against each other, or it could be an espionage stopped in its tracks. It could be another quiet, hollow day, or it could be the start of a conflict spanning countries. Thousands of lives lost, countless scarred from the carnage they have seen. Indeed, it is rumoured that some people, some entire nations have not yet recovered from the previous war hundreds of years before. It is rumoured that some have never returned from it.

    Alas, it seems like so many of the beast-eared folk of this place still crave adventure. They swallow their fear and light their flame, delving deep into what the world has to offer. Some might even claim that without them, Approfonde wouldn’t be the the thriving nation it is today. It definitely wouldn’t be as quiet as it is.

[aneonfuture]

I started up a writing blog for a little project I’ve been working with. Oh boy.

[aneonfuture]

“‘Till they are naught but ash, they will still move. They will still hunt.”

Here’s two late-night doodles. The goblin dude was particularly fun, mainly because I got to revisit an old project briefly with it. In fact, I got to visit a less developed part of the project, and it was pretty fun.

Not a big fan of how I handled shading, but the process behind it was rather efficient at least. I hoped to jot down an idea quickly and roughly, and I suppose I did.

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

“They don’t look like your average meteorite though, what are they?”

“That’s your job to find out, cupcake.”

As soon as I’ve finished the painting, I’ve realized that I worked in the lowest possible monitor brightness. My apologies if this is blindingly bright. 

Was a fun painting though, namely because I hardly ever work with landscapes. Not the best composition, nor is it the best rendering job, but I’ll get there eventually. 

I did discover I really need to study the body as a whole again. Wanted to add a little dude somewhere, but it was an incredibly painful and fruitless process. While part of me is dreading body studies, the other half is cheering that we don’t have to focus on rocks for now.

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

“Please do not give it a kiss.”

Ah yes, the strange loading-screen doodle. Was a fun time though, for sure. I was sitting there, just drawing a caterpillary-slugly thing, then obligatory teeth addition, then I noted it kinda looked like an upper lip. The game crashing 3 times/buddy being slow to catch up later and voila.

I guess I could have added lips to the teeth, hmm.

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

“Hirzurra means well, and their work is commendable. If their chosen design theme wasn't ‘abominable,’ they might do well in the market.”

Bunch of images, ho! Color studies and contrast studies have consumed me this week or so.

From the top: contrast study, glorified doodle, color study, random Doctor Doom, color and contrast study. Was fun stuff, but I really need to cut back on procrastinating here. I have a bunch of stuff due for the project by the 16th or so. Then more stuff by the end of the month.

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

Hey, my very first set of commissions are now open! Please read the full details and terms of service here if you are interested. In order to secure a slot, just private message me here or email me at [email protected].

Check the hyper-link above to see how many slots are open, they’re all priced at 20 USD. I did debate setting it up to where busts, portraits, sketches, and all that jazz were all priced differently, but I figured that would just be a mess for both parties, so everything’s 20 USD. Kind of pointless anyways since I doubt I’d offer sketches and inked things in the first place!

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

“Wow this is a bunch of weird junk. Props to future me if I can figure out a decent quote for these.”

Hey, have all the things I bothered to export (except one for reasons.) Been a lot of studies sketches lately, and I don’t like posting those all that much. Anyways, let’s dive right in.

Stream result, warm-up turtle thing. Not much else to be said about it.

Teeth turned sketch turned decent sketch turned finished drawing, for once. Was a really fun one too.

Animation I did not all that long ago. More or less, just wanted to study hands and arms (feeling pretty confident about the stuff I gathered.) After finishing a boring hand animation, I decided to make it worthwhile. I got lazy halfway through because Photoshop is very annoying to animate in.

Finally, this is just a conglomeration of all the frames of the previous. I know, I know, it’s a lazy post, but I have good reason. I’ve always loved looking at all the layers/frames of an image completely mashed together, and this one looks particularly neat.

On another note, I’ve been streaming of late again, and might do it some more soon enough, so here’s the plug. Been having a lot of fun and have been fairly productive. As long as I don’t get jump-scared by unfortunate social events for the third stream in a row, I might keep continuing it for a while.

-Akin

[aneonfuture]

“Might have a lead on the bomber,” the investigator said, flipping though some papers as he entered my office.

Putting out my cigarette, I chuckled with a tinge of fury. “Which one?”

Sure hope this doesn’t look green as hell on other people’s monitor. As I’ve discovered before, my monitor displays colors waaaay differently than most other screens, which sucks. I think I have to shift the hue by 24 and the contrast to 30 to get anywhere close to my phone’s screen, but I digress. It’s story time.

Once upon a time, a slightly younger me who went by a different internet name had his first taste of the realm of noir and cyberpunk. He was very much captivated by this, and tried his hardest to make sense of it by creating things inspired by it. One such thing took a rather long time for him, and nearly broke his spirit at the end of it.

It was pretty awful. The contrast was wonky, it was far too dim, the colors were a desaturated mess. The most colorful thing on the page was the word ‘neon,’ but even that was practically grey. I tried to excuse my shoddy handwriting as “alright enough.” The lines were visible throughout the entire image. Not even to mention how terribly drawn everything was. It looked bad, and I knew it too, but I continued on to the next project.

Despite all these things and despite how pessimistic I was at the time, a little part of me really wanted to give myself a pat on the back. I worked quite a bit for that image, and that small part recognized that. I guess that little part of me revealed itself in my creative works, as soon after I began to write and draw inspired from a single quote my optimistic side dug up: “The future is neon.”

-Akin