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@spiritusdracones
Art by Joseph-C-Knight
The Way Back by Chromamancer
Portrait: Mirsathia by Chromamancer
By Matt Cowdery
https://www.artstation.com/mattcowdery
Astalos Speedpaint by Chromamancer
Dragon Sketch by Swang via ImaginaryBehemoths
Art by FleetingEmber
Art by Nuare Studio
Butterfly dragon 🦋
Tropical fairy forests are very interesting^^
BAº
Sian tried opening her eyes. Her left opened a smidge. Her right spunged & rubber-banded, but refused to open. She frowned, squidged up her face, & tried again. Her left eye opened. She immediately regretted it, & shut it hurriedly again. Still frowning. Sian covered her face with her hand. Well, she thought she covered her face, but when she opened her left again, it was just as painfully bright as the first time. She snapped shut her eyelid again, and moved her other hand over her face. On opening her left eyelid again, she was relieved to see her left hand hovering over her face, & that it moved between her face and the bright light, to shadow her her from the painfully bright light. Eventually she could move her eye a little, and focus on things around her hand. It wasn’t easy. Her eyeball hurt. Her iris hurt. Her retina hurt. & the back & right-side of her head hurt when she tried to move to see further afield. She shut her eye again as she winced at the pain, and held her forehead as she frowned again against the pain. She felt something sticky on her face, and swiftly opened her eye as she pulled her hand away to look at the sticky stuff stuck on her fingers. It was red. And sticky. Very red. And very sticky. Sian tried to sit up in mild panic, but couldn’t move more than her let arm & leg. Panicking further, she touched her face again & found an extensive patch of sticky over much of the right-side of her face: really panicked at the sight of her red-stained fingers and palm of her left hand, Sian braced her left foot under herself, and pushed to roll herself over towards & onto her right side. She involuntarily screamed with the exertion & pain. She hadn’t expected it all to HURT SO VERY MUCH. Gulping & gasping for air through ragged breaths, Sian put her bloodied hand, & left foot under her again, and holding her breath behind clenched teeth & snarled lips, she mustered her courage and conviction, and levered herself over her rightside onto her front. Tears & spittle splattered and mingled with the blood in the dirt that surrounded & covered her. Sian accidentally clutched her chest, leaving a wet, sticky, muddy, bloodied handprint on her top... Schooching her left leg beneath her buttock, and adjusting her balance, Sian hooked her hair out of her eyes behind her ears, wiped some dust & dirt & blood from her face, wiped her hand on the thigh of her jeans, wiped the snot from her nostrils & top lip, and then, & only then, dared look at her right arm. Her right bicep was punctured through, & stapled to masonry by a metal reinforcing rod. It glistened & reflected light with her red slimy blood, which still flowed & dripped from the gash & rod in her arm... Sian retched, & belched, covering her mouth with her left hand, smelling her own blood on her left hand, retched & heaved & belched again, but prevented herself from vomitting, & rubbed her eyes to relieve the frown that held her headache in check. Her consciousness swam, and she swayed on the spot; but she kept her balance, sniffed in a deep long breath that she held for 5 seconds, and then again wiped her face, this time with the back of her hand.
0-Hump
Wednesday was definitely THE WORST day of the week. It weren’t even dubbed ‘Hump” day cos you got to shag for breakfast. It was just the height of the pits; you wake tired from just two days of the week, have wdnesday to get through, and THEN have two MORE work days to get through. IF you’re lucky. Shielding his eyes, Kiera rolled over on to his back, slapped the alarm button on his phone, missed, slapped again, threw his other arm across the bed to hook whichever body curled-up there, hopefully from last night’s shag-fest, found no-one, groaned, grabbed his semi-tumescent penis, thought erotic thoughts, and prayed to orgasm before the alarm bleated again. He didn’t. Kiera was just about to rapidly dismantle his phone against the wall, when his windows & front door rattled. This completely disrupted his stroke-rhythm, & distracted him from his thoughts of that blonde from LAST week he nailed SOO thoroughly. He cursed. He peered at his phone. The time barely made sense, even for a wednesday. He was just levering himself up to sitting to swing out of bed, when the woodwork rattled, and chattered & clattered again. The bed even bucked enough to throw him back on his side. The rattling and clattering continued, and Kiera frowned at the sound, pulling duvet & pillows over his head to block out the continuing clackering. That’s when the glass broke & shattered onto the floors. And the motion-alarm began howling & whining. And Kiera grimaced & huffed & swore his way up and out of bed. That’s when the floor pitched, heaved, squealed, buckled & collapsed. Kiera re-awoke, sprawled upside down on his bed, in the middle of the lower flat. His downstairs neighbour was pinned, poking out from beneath one side of Kiera’s bed. They spluttered awake with a cough, blinked, and screamed at the sight of Kiera. Kiera yelled back at the scream. The neighbour collapsed back & didn’t move again. Kiera scrabbled around for some clothes to cover-up with. Another window broke & collapsed. More masonry & timber cracked & splintered & collapsed in dust-bloomed heaps of rubble & debris. Kiera hurriedly rolled off his bed and away out from under a descending deluge of debris, yelped as something struck his shoulder & elbow, and he landed in an ungainly heap on the floor. Odd shoes & a bag lay within reach on the floor: Kiera grabbed what he could reach, scrambled to his feet, and barrelled over a pile of something that was once wall, and outside into the building’s once-garden. The air & light were all discoloured an earthy-orange with eddies of motes & swirls of particles, colliding & mixing & conspiring to filter the daylight a dirty, dinge, dusky brown. Kiera coughed at the cloying taste of it. He heard others nearby doing the same, & called to a shape he thought he recognised. “Barny? Barny, that you, mate?” kiera coughed & called. “yep, Kiera, I think so...” spluttered Barny, back. “What the actual fudge, happened?” demanded Kiera. “Feck knows!” shrugged Barny, as they both limped & stumbled over towards each other...
Art by Allagar
0ºL
Nitin woke in a panic, threw his alarm-clock across the room, & turned over in his bed. His stereo turned, playing Capital Radio too loud. Nitin threw the nearest thing to hand at the volume control. Something broke when object hit stereo. Nitin turned & glanced over & swore when realised it was his phone he’d thrown at his laptop. He could see at least one screen had cracked. He swore again, turned over again, and wrapped a pillow round his ears. Downstairs, someone was calling his name ever more loudly & urgently, & shrilly. Nitin swore yet again into his pillow, flounced out of bed, stomped to his bedroom door, wrenched it open, bellowed out over the landing & down the stairs something that was unintelligible even to himself, slammed his door and pounded back his bed. He lumped down in the bed so hard, he broke a one of its legs, & the whole bed pitched & collapsed onto the floor. Nitin swore even more vehemently than before, threw his pillow & duvet off the bed, and swung his bare legs over the side. His feet hit the floor hard, as it was so much closer than usual. Nitin swore quietly to himself under his breath, rubbed his eyes & face & hair with his hands, stood in a stop with a sigh, and crossed his room to the remnants of his laptop & phone. Both were cracked & chipped. Why couldn’t throw like that at school? He turned on both devices, saw they both worked okay, launched a video-chat app on the laptop, and opened his favourite photo-chat app on his smartphone. Trill pinging noises signalled that both had successfully launched, so he selected a video-call contact & clicked the cursor on ‘call’, then turned & walked over to the window while it dialled. He looked at the notifications from friends & phloggers he followed, and pulled the blind from over the window. The video-call connected. “what?” said Della. “Oh, tha’s nice, I don’t think!” Nitin snapped back. “you bloody called at this shitting hour of the mor-” complained Della. “What we s’posed to take in today?” Nitin demanded, cutting her off her valid point before she could complete it. “check your won bloody timeta- are you stood nekkid at your window, scratchin your balls in public...???” laughed Della. “fuk off! I’ll do what I like-” “shame you ain’t got much to nuffin with!” laughed Della, and disconnected the call.
2ºc
Cielle slapped shut her text-book, grabbed it and her reference books, stuffed them all in her courier’s bag, and turned off the television. The news had been dominated again with items about demonstrations in this capital and that, of strikes over wages or working conditions, of marches demanding the recent International Environmental Conference agreed accords to reduce harmful pollutants and toxins in the atmosphere, water-system & geology. It tied-in with her geography studies, but it all made for heavy going, that she found trying, and some times depressing. She was interested in all things Environmental, and followed developments as much as she could, even convening an action group at school which developed recycling & reuse policies & practices. She wouldn’t say she entirely enjoyed the subject, but she was somehow deeply committed to being involved with and making a difference to the vast causes of damaging human environmental impact.
She swung the strap of her bag over her head onto her left shoulder, grabbed her keys out of the bowl, stuffed an apple in the pocket of her hoodie, and headed out her family’s apartment door.
Her walk to college was neither long nor arduous, but today she decided to take the Seine-path, as far as Xxxxx Bridge, cross the river, and make her way passed Xxxx. Cielle realised she must have been earlier than usual, as the city & its streets felt quieter than usual. There were fewer people, & less traffic, but there was also much less noise, far fewer sounds than... normally there were. Though it took her looking up at the call of a bluebird to actually notice. She paused to listen to the birdsong, smiling to herself at its sweetness, and then realised how clearly she could hear it. That gave her pause for thought. She looked about, and only then noticed how calm and still, and quiet, almost soundless, everywhere was.