Phsyc Flake

A collection of art that I've done. Mostly characters from World of Warcraft, character concepts. I like to art, and I like to WoW, so let's combine the two.

[crypt-friend]

The faction leaders of the Alliance at King Varian Wrynn’s funeral…

[monniponi-oldart]

Nibbles! Feed me :3

♥ Patreon ♥ Commission info ♥ Instagram ♥

[trashwarden]

I’ve watched new Voltron thing and this was bothering me for a whole season.

[phsyc-flake]

“The world isn’t what it use to be.  A proud race we were, the Titans had blessed us with the power of the Well, to protect it and use it to help us strive in this world they created for us.

We were a peaceful people, but our hierarchy of civilization caused us to drift apart, our race split and we became different people.  The might Highbornes and the lowly Kaldorei, we were two different races in our eyes.  Our society was crumbling from the addiction of power and magic.  Those who strayed from the nature, finding comfort in the power of the arcane.. we were the Highborne.  The Kaldorei that thought the Well of Eternity as a tool to gain knowledge from, and as knowledge grew, so did the fear from the others.  They were afraid of what they didn’t understand. They were right to do so.”

[phsyc-flake]

[phsyc-flake]

“Go forth and choose your forces, Elaspir.”  The deep voice echoed within the HIghborne’s mind, as he stood before the landscape of rubble and ruins. 

Lichfire eyes arrowed as he scanned the area, the forces of the Scourge obeying his every command.  The screams of what remained of the living echoing throughout the small village harboring the ruins of ancient burial grounds of Highborne.  As he stepped through the clearing dust from building collapsing upon themselves he found what he was looking for. 

All motion had stopped as the fur lined cloak was caught on something, the pleading face of a dying man trying to peer up at the face that was shadowed by the cowl. His saronite plated hand would grasp his cloak as he yanked it free from the pathetic grip, “Please, Knight... spare..” The man’s words were cut short as a single rune blade lopped his head off.  It was sent tumbling to the ground.  An array of blood splattered up the black, glistening armor decorating it with specks of crimson.

“Fool,” Elaspir’s raspy voice echoed from beneath the cloth coated, plate cowl.  He turned and began heading to the single tomb that stood above all the rest, just off in the distance.

With ease, the door to the catacomb was pushed open, within it a single well preserved body.  He ran his hand of the face, the flesh nearly in perfect condition, it had been tinged slightly but the decomposition process stopped as though the corpse were frozen in time.  He trailed to the left hand of the dead woman, upon her wrist the mark of a sage leaf forever imprinted on her skin.  “You served me well in life, Deilind. It’s time for you to do so in death.”  A valkyr was soon behind him, a nod from her armor covered head was offered before hoisting the body into her arms and carrying it through the doorway. 

As Elaspir ascended the steps, exiting the crumpling building, he’d turn. He would turn to face the tomb, a concentrated blast of frozen winds burst from his palm.  This assault would crack the foundation and the building would cave in.

Those voided eyes scanned what was left of the destroyed tomb, only to shift and stare over the ruins of the village that had been destroyed. Fires that had been blazing bright against the smogged, starry sky died into mere embers due to the rubble blocking their source of air which fed them.  Ghouls ran amuck, screeching and growling as the sound of their unstable bodies falling apart cracked through the atmosphere. This was his work.

[phsyc-flake]

::..::Art done by Ivyleaf. (Freyja Ivyleaf)::..::

Before the Vitharr Warrior Caste, Elaspir had been wondering the streets of Stormwind City aimlessly seeking out allies to build the perfect army. 

He had come across a Kaldorei death knight who shared many of his similar views. Freyja Ivyleaf. He had grown quite close to her in the ways of combat, many sprees of violence had broken out because of the two of them. 

She had exposed her one physical flaw, a detached head. She had been decapitated before risen to fight for the Lich King. Elaspir was annoyed with the lack of usefulness of her head easily falling off without the presence of her gorget. First he had sewn her head back on, the thread embeued with his frost abilities in order to keep it from snapping when she moved. 

It was long before he created her a skin graft, shortly after that he had lost track of her. She had disappeared without a word, slipped off into the night with a few items of value. (My reasoning, I have no idea what happened to her IRL).

This has created a deep hatred and unyielding trust issues Elaspir has towards women who wish to pursue him romantically.. He is a cold, cunning, ruthless being, on top of that. 

[phsyc-flake]

Art sketches done by Deilind’s player.

[joker-ace]

WELP here’s the project I did for school that I wanna work into a more personal project throughout this summer and in the future as well. I haven’t done a comic in a long time, so there was a lot of experimenting here and I’m gonna apologize ahead for my shaky storytelling cuz writing is not my forte, although I do plan on fixing this up in the future. It’s a sort of prequel to what I wanna do for my zodiac kids, so it was just a lot of messing around with them. Nothing is historically accurate; its psuedo history and fanstasy so hahaHA 

[keelime-art]

@lalas-laboratory

[geekygirlynerd]

I thought this was a good PSA…it’s making the rounds, spread the word :)

[ma-at-thought]

A respectful RP promise:

I might not like your headcanons. I might not approve of OC/Canon relationships. I might be annoyed by ‘special snowflake’ characters. I might not be comfortable with the RPing of canon characters.

But I promise that I will not insult or degrade you based on these RP choices. I will not tell you that you ‘aren’t allowed’ to RP them. I will not dislike you as a person because of RPing any of these things.

I am an adult. If I do not like something, I can ignore it. It’s not doing me any harm, it’s not being forced on me, and I don’t have to interact with it. It is not my job to tell other people how they’re supposed to have fun.

We may disagree on a lot of RP-related things, and even have debates about it, but I will not treat you badly because of choosing these things for your fantasy-fun.

[erynnholt-deactivated20170303]

A solid positive message.

[phsyc-flake]

[phsyc-flake]

Elaspir, Highborne Frost Knight [Moon Guard]

“You’ve served your King well, Elaspir… Beware of his betrayal to come.”

  The words of the disembodied voice meant nothing to the Death Knight, his loyalty never wavering from the Lich King’s grasp.  The warning, however, didn’t fall upon deaf ears.  Since that night, Elaspir had kept an ever watchful eye on the action of Arthas.  His only goal, to survive in the world of the living as what he had become.  His rebirth had created him into a killing machine for the King’s will.

  "Of course, m'lord… Anything you command.“  That deep echoing voice had left his throat, mimicking those words on a constant basis, and gained him a seat of high regard in the brutish eyes of the Lich King.

  Initiate after initiate had fallen before his eyes, survival of the fittest.  It wasn’t uncommon, it was the best way to weed out the weaklings, culling them.  He had his pick of those he would train personally, his art of frost beckoning from the unknown past that was erased from his mind.  The Knight created his small sector of the army, picking those who seemed to have an affinity for survival.  The mixture of blood and frost runic abilities made his the strongest, the unholy blights left to another commander.  His brigade marked with his own rune, a sage leaf burned into their wrists.  It was his way of maintaining loyalty and identifying his own.  With his power marking them, he was able to track them and cull the deceivers, if any dared to do so.

  As time passed on under the rule of Arthas, he grew suspicious of the man and his true intentions especially as new Death Knights continued to be raised.  Thousands of them, Elaspir watched the rise and fall at the hands of the Lich King.  He merely stood on the side lines, emotionless and calculating, witnessing their first battle and laying claim to those he thought would make the perfect addition to his sector.  He often stood silent in the background of the few other commanders, but the moment he saw potential he would speak up and lay his claim before the others could battle it out.  They didn’t dare challenge him, they had all saw the brutality that he could unleash first hand.

  Once he was content with the few fifty that he had chosen, he lost interest in any more of the new recruits.  He could still hear the others taunting him, mocking his small number of his brigade, though he knew strength wasn’t in numbers.. but in skill.  Instead of standing at the edge of the pit, he focused on training his subordinates, building their trust and punishing those who dared cross him.  By the time Arthas was ready to make his move, Elaspir had a total of thirty-five of the fifty left that he had chosen.  Most having fell at his own hand for being too weak and needed to be disposed of.  He was a monster, but he was feared and respected.

[phsyc-flake]

Gore, Captain of the Scouts of the Dawnguard.

Cat form, worgen druid.

[Commission/Gift art]

[phsyc-flake]

Within the walls of the great city of Gilneas, a simple community grew. Within that community a small family began to blossom. A man who's arts of battle attracted the affection of a woman of the darker arts. Born under the name of Collin Jude Sisks, the boy grew with the training of a warrior along with the temptation of learning the ways of a warlock's dark magic. Of course, he would have to make the decision once he came of age. Life resumed as normal for most of the Gilneans. The attack of the disease that turned a mass of their people into the feral creatures of bipedal wolves and the Forsaken coming to over take their homeland that they so desperately tried to protect. His story was no different. He witnessed and partook in many outocomes of those battles. He persued the wrath of the Lich King and survived the Cataclysm of Deathwing's curelty. However, after his change from humn in the monsterous beast of a Worgen, he dropped his birth name altogether. No longer was he of the Sisks family, shunned by his father who had fought desperately to protect his mother from the feral worgen who first upturned the beloved city. This caused him to adopt an entirely different name, abandoning his family's traditional values and becoming much like the beast that they saw him as. A manipulator and a con artist, a thief and a murderer. These were things that he bestowed upon himself.

He became Cleig.

Though kind in his smile and words, he lacks the empathy for any of those around him. Easily able to be swayed from his current opposition with coin or rare valuables. He is a manipulator. A polite, gentleman to strangers but a ruthless sell sword for those with a vindictive appetite. A shadow master, an elite warrior, he took things from the training of both his parents and has combined them into his own dysfunctional abilities to suit his appeteite.

[phsyc-flake]

Old Man Dar had a long battle. Now it’s time for a nap.

[phsyc-flake]

Nisara Sunwalker

Quel’dorei Ranger

(Wyrmrest Accord, “Commission”)