#{ roar.

[askeletonwithskin]

MORE STORYBOARDS FOR INSIDE JOB.

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THIS IS SO AWESOME AARON. HOLY SHIT. THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS!

[jentlemahae]

okay

[vasthonker-blog]

WHY IS MY SLAVE ON MY BACK?

[ogabatoru]

{ ? }​

     It was not the full moon that drew spectral light to the demon blade. One may have sensed something greater, something old and vile living underfoot. Hideo felt it surge within him from its hilt, an energy that chose him as its host, that crackled from his arms to his spine and all throughout his core.      He saw movement on the edge of the clearing. So hotly did the spirit burn him that he had knelt to gather himself, and he was kneeling still, sword plunged into the earth, when the stranger entered his vision. The beast in him fought to overthrow the man: his eyes were clear one moment, then gleaming white the next; the light pulsed and wavered over his form and fangs ripped from his gums and the process stopped and started, came and went like a dreadful tide of change.      “I have made worse first impressions.” His distorted, guttural voice rumbled through the air. 

[ogabatoru]

     Can she see them?      Coarse fellows hiding none too subtly in the lantern light, animated umbrellas and their unsuspecting owners, food vendors with sharp eyes and sharper teeth... the lower yokai are ruthless this season. The Blue Death Hideo, once as renowned as the grit on the devil king’s sole, feels downright royal among them. Still he holds his head down. Winds of secrecy gust through nighttime Shinjuku, carrying the rain along with it. The oni stops amid the crowd where his feet lock in place. He sees her.        There, beneath the waning neon sign that promised tea and sanctity in a unholy land--never had anything appeared so welcoming, and so ironic. The beast’s roar thunders in his head from recognition. Several beats pass where he hopes to idle here long enough to have this city swallow him whole. Then she would have one less burden to trouble her; that fateful day could be forgotten.      But he steps forward until he matches her pace, and, bowing hastily, he holds the umbrella above her head. “I’ve found you yet again--” Hideo appears to contend with a memory, with her name at the edge of consciousness “--Miwa Kurosawa.”