fuckkkk i should draw and color a picture but all i have is this baseball bat that i hit myself in the head with over and over and over and over and over and over and over
Over a year ago I posted the first piece of art for a story I have bravely entitled: medieval cat story. I, ehā¦ am not so good at titles. I will yap about it anyway.
This fellowās name is Jericho Frostrane. Born to the modest Frostrane family of bladesmiths, war has been on the horizon since he was little. The city of Glengate borders the heart of the kingdom Anglehelm. Itās full of farmers and laborers, therefore the Frostranes get by on forging weapons for Anglehelmās guard.
Knights are put upon a pedestal, admired for their selfless bravery in the face of imminent death.
Jericho and his siblings were raised to respect them, as all little ones are. More than that, he decides before he even reaches double digits that a knight is what heās going to be. To follow in the footsteps of the men and women idolized all around him; silver-clad martyrs who live and die for the crown. It sounds romantic, to him. The way heās taught life should be lived is nothing less than short, but important.
Jericho leaves home with encouragement from his family at 13, taken to Anglehelm to begin training for a place on the royal court.
Jericho is incredibly ambitious. He is driven, and lives with perpetual tunnel vision. He has romantic notions about the nature of mortality, and the importance of martyrdom perpetuated by his society for as long as he can remember. His world is abnormally peaceful and controlled, despite actively working toward a painful, violent end. The honor he will bring to his family will make up for his absence in abundance.
Therefore, perhaps most importantly, the life Jericho planned is not for himself. He romanticizes the same notion of supposed āfreedomā as everyone elseāthat somehow, by turning himself into a pawn for the king, he may achieve true, heavenly glory.
Itās a game to those with enough money to never worry about putting food on the table. Persuading the masses to assemble at their command by making them excited to do so. To paint it as a prideful, memorable picture, rather than the reality that so many young soldiers will someday be forgotten in a sea of nameless bodies.
That was a bit sad. Anyway, I think he would dress like this. Iāve never drawn armor in my life Iām working on it ok ;_;
online numbers can really fuck you up when it comes to your creative work because you're sharing something you worked on with all your heart but it's very important to remember there's actual people behind those numbers. even if it's 1. that's one whole actual person. that's a human being who said "haha nice". that's a connection with a REAL person with a REAL life and REAL thoughts and feelings and experiences. like. damn. that should mean something
I hate that when youāre stressed enough your body just starts falling apart. I think it should realize youāre already stressed and donāt need that and start functioning better actually
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