#ildanach

[revisionlightning]

Irish Deity and master of many skills, Lugh, with the sword Fragarach. I am so incredibly proud of this piece, ya'll have no idea. From the rainbow vine etching to the colors in the clothes to the violet in his hair and the soft expression, I just love how this turned out.

[lightningskissed]

Love Song to the Many Skilled

I fell in love with lightning

With bravado and skill

With the scent of wild autumn

With the pulse rush of the storm front.

With the first rain on dry soil

And the knowledge of a thousand tasks

The unforgiving but the adoring

The truth bearing flash of light.

An artist would fall in love

With the master of arts

For who else would be closer

To art itself?

[seafrightened-blog]

@ildanach​ asked to say hello! 

      “This is her.”

      It was a child’s drawing, some little girl’s ink scribble on parchment. Whatever it was supposed to be-- a striped oval with limbs and a serious-looking face atop-- Ninny took her portrait of Too-Ticky as solemnly as a Renaissance master presenting their work. 

      “You’re a selkie, so you would know if she’s a selkie too, right? Does this look like a selkie to you?”

[reignofolympus]

      ❛     why is the phrase, revenge is a dish best served cold?   honestly, i prefer my revenge to be hot.  very hot.   lightning hot.     ❜

@ildanach

[colourphone-blog]

@ildanach a ajouté votre billet à ses coups de cœur :starter call while i dust off the about and rules... 

      “Oh, I think you Irish sorts have the most fun accents. I can’t do any of them to save my life, though! What a shame, a shame, a shame--” She sung out, practically dancing with her words like they were a song. “No, no, I’m no good at actin’, ‘nd I think accents are part’a acting if it ain’t your own. I dunno what I’d say my accent is, ‘cause I don’t hear no accent, ‘cause I just hear myself.”

      Iris adjusted her hair clip, which was her cloud-pitcher in disguise. Unlike the more powerful gods, who often had supernatural knowledge about these sorts of things, Iris was a minor goddess; she had no idea if the person before her was human, god, monster, or anything in between. All she knew was that the accent she’d heard him speaking in was absolutely entertaining.