Art and writing sideblog of CrysDrawsThings. Nothing here will be overly explicit, of course, but slightly suggestive images or moderate gore might appear from time to time in setting appropriate amounts. Happy browsing!
I am Crys and this is my art sideblog: just my drawings, writing, other creativity and none of the regularly scheduled tomfoolery.
If you wish to see tomfoolery or follow content about specific fandoms, I then invite you to check my main blog - @crysdrawsthings
Other useful information and links:
About commissions - open with payment via Boosty
About art trades - currently closed
About tags - here, updated as necessary
About me - I am a pretty boring office worker from Russia, who does art as a hobby. My other hobbies are reading, video games, worldbuilding and tabletop RPGs.
My Boosty (aka Tip Jar, hopefully it works!) - CrysDrawsThings
The full (currently) collection of sketches with the Office Piece.
Which is One Piece, if pirates were mostly featured in the quarterly reports of the economics department.
Starring St. Stellara Karen nee [REDACTED] (aka Hag), Buttercup and St. Chaddeus T. Aurelius Topman (aka Chad, created by a friend).
Plus their various colleagues and one eldritch blob.
A little experimental story for the CCU, heavily inspired by the amazing Slay the Princess by BlackTabbyGames (happy Scarlet Hollow Update Day to those who celebrate) and Soulsborne game genre, my beloved.
Relevant content warnings: violence and gore without particularly detailed descriptions, repeated death of protagonist.
Many thanks to @singleteapot for proofreading and @letsrevince for support and suggestions on some other edits!
I.
At the end of the path waits your Adversary. You must defeat him. This is the only way.
You face him, but the terror grips your heart and you can only helplessly watch as your flesh is torn apart; your heart comes to rest on his palm.
You die.
II.
You wake up. It hurts. You may be whole, but the world remembers. You get up and step onto the path.
You face him and the terror only for your body to betray you yet again. Too little, too slow, too late.
You die.
III.
You wake up. It hurts. Something cruel and cold is making itself at home within. You get up.
You face him. You are more angry than afraid now. This is not enough.
You die.
IV.
You wake up. It hurts, but matters little. You step onto the path; hands balled into fists, nails digging into flesh.
He doesn't wait for you now; clawed hand buries in the soft flesh of your chest yet again.
You die.
V.
You wake up. You get up. You step onto the path. Are you ready? Will you be ready?
You manage to dodge. And again. He gets bored.
You die.
VI.
You wake up, get up and step onto the damn path. The path feels longer; busier, somehow. It doesn't matter.
You know the pattern, do you? Left, right, jump, kick. You can do it. Right?
You die.
VII.
You wake up. Pride hurts worse than the flesh does. No choice - get up and step onto the path. It feels livelier in detail. You don't care.
You are soon outmatched. You won't let something as pathetic as shattered bones stop you. You get up again.
You die.
VIII.
You wake up. Have you always felt so cold? You get up and get going, claws digging into the flesh of your palms.
You are outmatched. Again. You get up. Again. You go down kicking and screaming. Again.
You die.
IX.
You wake up. It hurts, but the pain is dull. You ignore it and get up. The world feels more vibrant. It pisses you off.
You clash with him, the thing inside of you screaming in glee. You claw, and kick, and bite until you taste blood. Your success doesn't last long.
You die.
X.
You wake up and get going; no use in wasting time. You are getting somewhere and your heartbeat is a war-drum.
He is still reeling from the last time, now armoured in gloam and metal. Your bones break uselessly upon it.
You die.
XI.
You wake up. You can't stop now, so you keep going. It feels useless, but you want to convince yourself there is a trick of some kind. Anything.
It is in fact useless.
You die.
XII.
You wake up, the cold thing from before weighing you down and painfully stretching itself within. It feels about as familiar now as the pain and humiliation of fighting an impossible battle. You get up.
Bones may break, but your will won't. Not now. So you walk on; the world unfolding in your mind's eye drenched in impossible colours.
You die.
XIII.
You wake up. The cycle repeats. It is time to get going.
For the cycle to break, something needs to change. ‘You need to change’, the thing says. You just need to pay. So you fight.
You die.
XIV.
You wake up. The cycle continues. You struggle against its borders.
And so you pay, and you pay, and you pay. The world, barely outside of your perception, is waiting to be seen; every drop of blood guiding you closer.
You die.
XV.
You wake up. It has been happening bit by bit, but you are both less – and more – than before. Have you done it, or was it done to you? You care little.
As you clash again, two shadowed forms in an uneasy dance, it finally breaks – and the world sings; enough to overwhelm him, even if momentarily. Sadly, the moment is not enough.
You die.
XVI.
You wake up, the world pushing back on you yet again. But you have heard the song and you know: you won't forget it ever again. Its absence feels like a wound.
But you remember yourself whole, too; your will shaping and molding the world. So when you fight again, you strain and beat yourself against the wall of metal to feel it again.
You die.
XVII.
You wake up. At the edge of consciousness, when you are not yet fully yourself and your perception is not chaining you down, the world shines and sings. You get up, and the feeling vanishes in the morning mist.
You become more. Stronger and faster. More resilient. You also become less, you think, and the cold coiling horror within agrees. You could not care less; you have a battle to win.
You die.
XVIII.
You wake up. You cannot succeed while chained to your humanity. Your shell of meat as much your enemy as him, waiting at the end of the path. So you dig in.
This time it is more even: sharp claws and metal bones clashing with metal armour and coiling darkness. But more even is not even, and is not enough.
You die.
XIX.
You wake up. Lately it is both easier and harder to do; your mind often wanders while your body goes through the motions, and unseen music is half-heard at the back of your skull.
You are unfocused and unprepared. And yet; somewhere at the edge between holding fast and letting go, there is something. Still...
You die.
XX.
You wake up. Your dreams are hardly your own anymore: when you sleep, an ancient creature within spreads nightfall wings and ruminates on the Ages lost.
At some point an epiphany hits, and you use it to hit him - earth groaning and erupting with animated metal, guided by your pain and rage.
You die.
XXI.
You wake up. Clad in your own armour now, its weight familiar and comforting. Scales of your own making to hide the soft and loathsome flesh underneath. Time to go.
The fight is a half-remembered dance to the garbled music, steps all wrong and your body failing to keep up with the tempo.
You die.
XXII.
You wake up. You like it, don't you? Maybe not ‘like’; maybe you just finally found a purpose for yourself. A reason to exist.
You may be a wretched, cruel thing; you may have lost too much along the way. But when you finally do it, when you win, it will all make sense.
You die.
XXIII.
You wake up. Everything ought to have a price, but you had hardly expected the price of your progress to be neither your blood nor pain but your joy.
You don't feel truly alive anymore without the song. And the world refuses to sing if you are not fighting. So you fight.
You die.
XXIV.
You wake up. You stay there for a while, looking at the stars. You haven't paid them much attention before. Back where you came from, there aren't any stars to gaze at anymore.
You hardly allow this body to feel pain anymore, so you try to bait him, get an opening. But trading blows won't get you far.
You die.
XXV.
You wake up. It is hard to separate yourself from the thing you allow to nest in your heart. Entwined bones and entwined souls. But you must remember who you are doing it all for.
It won't do you much good to rely on copying anymore. You simply are not enough when you try; a shattered mirror and a shadow of a reflection.
You die.
XXVI.
You wake up. You try to remember. Grasping for fleeting images in the whirlpool of sensations your new senses bring. Their faces come to you as if on old faded photos.
A close call this time. He shouldn't be able to move as fast, but he does nonetheless – getting out of the way before your strike shatters the ground, too fast for you to react.
You die.
XXVII.
You wake up. You try to remember. You say their names. Your voice is hoarse and scratchy; you haven't been talking much, if at all, lately. Screaming in pain doesn't count.
It is all about rhythm. Push and pull, ebb and flow; your shared song alternating between soaring highs and rapid descent. All leading to the same end.
You die.
XXVIII.
You wake up. You have to wonder if they will even recognise you. When one’s body is just another set of clothing, it is hard to keep oneself from experimenting. Shedding old for something new.
Still, it would have to wait until it matters. You still have an uphill battle to survive, and they have a journey across the moonlight road to make. And you are not surviving today.
You die.
XXIX.
You wake up. And it is finally done, this song of yours to weave. You are so intimately familiar with the pain and grief of being human – he should experience it as well. Being trapped by mortality as if by a thousand chains.
You are not going all in today. Just testing the waters and your limits. You have come a long way, but you must be absolutely sure. You must not reveal your hand ahead of time; you won't get another shot.
You die.
XXX.
You wake up. Your creation is imprecise; lacks refinement. But it will do for now, with just iron instead of six proper metals. Time for the last dance.
When the moment is right, you sprung your trap: and following your voice, chains rise from the ground as the slithering metal lattice. He strains against the shackles, metal starting to give.
So you put into this last strike, everything you have. And oh, was the horror and rage in his eyes delightful to see.
The windwakers - landships that cruise the sands of the desert as if they were mere oceans - are a thing in Defiler I will not be explaining. There is no need, instead it preserves the otherworldly factor of the planet!
(artwork by @crys-makes-art)
Another aspect I won't be explaining is galactic space travel. This walks hand-in-hand with the species responsible for space travel in the galaxy (the Hrathians), as well as the very nature of the Starchilds (the ancient starships) and their creators (Astrids).
Bringing things with Moru over here, as she seems to be here to stay. Meet the horrible Sith woman and her questionable life (and fashion) choices, more sketches under the cut
I have never drew Kylo before, so bear with me. Also Knights of Ren have a band (and SpaceCloud) in this timeline.
Moru being bullied by her ghosties (ghost buddies)
She is also very unhealthily fixated on the Holonet series Gonk Adventures (and it's expanded universe). And has a life-sized Gonk plushie
If there is one thing I hate doing - it would be character ref sheets, but since I wanted to add Measse (or Chainsinger as she would be listed there) to my Artfight profile I kind of needed to make one.
Portrait still upcoming and I will probably sketch out two wing options AND her metal chimera form, but good grief it takes far too much time already.
If there is one thing I hate doing - it would be character ref sheets, but since I wanted to add Measse (or Chainsinger as she would be listed there) to my Artfight profile I kind of needed to make one.
Portrait still upcoming and I will probably sketch out two wing options AND her metal chimera form, but good grief it takes far too much time already.
Starting the Artfight this year with a revenge against @rowscara featuring our beloved Halthwyn!
Tragically - so little free time this year for art, so AF pictures are likely all going to be these simple headshots
Can't promise anything, but I am dutifully crawling towards Artfight. Might even add a dew new characters - specifically from WoW and from the Crys Cinematic Universe
