And here is the drawing prize for @weetdevil115, of her girl Omaira~
Like mentioned in the contest info, since she won Omaira is officially included in the universe! While she won’t appear much as she’s not a part of Hyacinth’s group, she will still have her own little role to play, and I think it will be fun to work with her either way. I hope you enjoy~ ❤
Here is her original bio + ref for whoever’s interested! Her bio info(copied from DA) can be found down below as well^^
Name: Omaira Arusha
Nickname: Poppy(Art Name), Little Rose(by father)
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Biromantic Demisexual
Species: Demon
Color Motif: Red
Omaira is just an average girl living her day to day life in Chromia with her hard-working father. She may not be well as a person but her amazing artworks around the city are. After the mysterious disappearance of her mother Omaira and her father were in a state of grief looking for any trace of her but to no luck. Watching her father work several jobs to support them made her want to help her father out in any way possible. Still being in a state of sadness at her mother's sudden disappearance Omaira took up drawing as a state of comfort. Doing more artwork to comfort herself soon turned into her passion as she started painting on canvases and eventually giving them to an art dealer to sell under an anonymous name. Watching her art pieces gain popularity she eventually started getting commissions to paint murals in museums or empty city walls. Not wanting to risk her identity being revealed she only does artwork during the night or when she knows people won't be around.
I’m in love with this commissioned work from Shani Grim (Twitter Link) , a fantastic artist who I highly recommend! She really brought my cleric, Omaira, to life!
Can’t wait to play this chaos cleric again soon :) She’s mishmash of Grave/Nature/Life domain and she’s so much fun to play! Until then, catch me staring at this beauty of a commission all day.
((Disclaimer: I only own my interpretation of The Arcana’s Julian. Neville, Vicky, Diantho and the interpretation of The Arcana’s Valdemar belong to @gdrawsthings and Omaira to @halfblooddragonghost))
The witching hours in the city of Vesuvia was usually the quitest part of the day. The absolute quietness was only disturbed by the occasional owl cries, the howls of some lonely dog or erotic sighs of some couples in love that had forgotten to close their bedroom windows. Otherwise, the starlit hour of the poets and hopeless romantics was crowned by silence and the white noise of crickets and waves brushing against the docs. Yet, despite the heavenly peace, for the fourth time this week, Neville woke up in the middle of the night at the sound of pacing onto the wooden floor and shallow breathing. And for the fourth time, he was met by a cold bed and ruffled sheets where his lover should be lying. The opera singer sighed and shifted his weight on the matress, tiredly rubbing his eyes.
Why does he insist on suffering alone and pretending all is well afterwards?
Granted, Neville was one to appreciate discreetness more than most people. His whole upbringing was based on the idea of building one’s image like wearing a mask: be good, polite and efficient, and whatever happens behind the facade is noone’s business. Yes, his people really valued the privacy of their emotions and weaknesses. That was why they all ended up miserable and died at the mental asylum. That was why he was the family’s scapegoat.
And after all... he wasn’t just “noone” to the other man... was he?
He still remembered the night he met him. How could he forget that performance of La Boheme; the tenacity of Rodolfo’s affection being completely overshadowed by that ethereal vision of a man sitting at the last rows of the amphitheatre; auburn curls, voluptuous lips, skin so white that it was almost transluscent, and these silver, watery eyes that looked as if moonlight was pooling into them and gazed right into his emerald ones, like they were peering into his very soul... If anyone asked him how he found himself off the stage and kneeling in front of him singing the “O soave fanciulla” aria as if he was singing it for him and him alone, having abandoned his co-star, he would be unable to answer. Everything else had blurred into nothingness; what mattered was only the here and now, him and himself captured in a moment of poetry. “Oh, sweetest vision with moonlight bathing your pretty face! The dream that I see in you is the dream I'll always dream!” Neville sang with all his soul, and the spirit of the night sang with him.
But as all beautiful things do, the magic of the song ended too soon to his liking, and the brittle awkward silence of the audience was soon shattered by a roar of applause. With the corner of his eye he spotted the soprano widen her eyes in disbelief and storming off the stage with an angry huff. Yet, in the glory of the moment, the opera singer could only take the other’s gloved hand into his and press a gentle kiss onto it, never taking his eyes off the burgundy color that had spread on the redhead’s cheeks. His gaze lowered to the slightly parted lips for a tempting moment before it met the silver eyes once more, only to see a tempest of emotions one overpowering the other: bewilderment, shock, longing and finally terror.
Immediately, the pale man withdrew his hand from his as if it scorched him and sprang out of his seat, running towards the exit, as if he was being chased by all the demons of hell.
“Wait!” the singer called out and ran after him, leaving the now murmuring in confusion audience behind. Even if he were aware of the massive scandal that would result from that eventful night, Neville couldn’t care less. Instead he kept running, yet the other was too fast and agile. Soon, he was out of sight.
Neville huffed, cursing himself under his breath. Now that he thought of it, how foolishly spontaneous his behavior was! He knew nothing of the other man, he might have offended him for all he knew. Perhaps he was already with someone, or was just freaked out that he was courted in that fashion in front of so many people. Perhaps-
A familiar white linen shirt caught Neville’s attention effectively stopping his inner monologue, and his heart skipped a beat when he turned to see no other than the man from earlier having leaned over the railing of the docs, peering down at the dark waters. The sea breeze brushed through his hair and made his dark coat -wait, was that a military doctor coat?- flutter along with the hem of his shirt, spreading the smell of musk, leather and coffee; though the tremors of his shoulders were not because of it. As Neville slowly approached, he could make out the small sobs that escaped him and the tears that were running down his face, to drip into the angry waters below. He hadn’t noticed him. Hesitantly, Neville touched his shoulder. The red haired man did not look surprized to see who was there, and finding no resistance, Neville passed his arm around the slender shoulders and held him close. He shuddered, but did not go away, and after a while he relaxed a little, leaning his head onto the small of Neville’s neck. “Why are you doing this?” he whispered, with his eyes closed.
“Nothing in this world happens in vain, and the soul holds secrets the logic would never understand. There are lost lives lingering between the pages of the world and when a soul finds its kindred one it cries as it remembers its past happiness. Whatever they are made of, yours and mine are one.” Neville whispered back, carefully caressing the auburn tresses.
The teary silver eyes raised to meet his in awe and melancholy. “ That’s Emily Bronte... but...I... don’t understand...” he muttered.
“Neither do I. Nor we should.” Neville replied softly. “What is your name?”
“Julian.”
The weak light of a solitary candle was casting long shadows onto the walls of the small kitchen. Although it was not visible from where Neville was currenty standing, he knew that Julian had stopped his pacing and was now sitting at the table, head in his arms. Without looking, he reached out to his newly filled mug of coffee, but another hand reached out to it too, covering it like a lid and stopping him.
“’Tis too late to be having this sort of beverage, darling.” Neville muttered lovingly before wrapping his arms around Julian’s waist an planting a soft kiss on his neck. Julian smiled at that, instinctively leaning into his lover’s embrace. “My angel of music... What time is it?” he purred back.
“Too late to be about. Come back to bed. It feels empty without you in it...” Neville replied, punctuating his statement with a small nibble on Julian’s neck to ensure he wouldn’t protest. “Bad dream?”
Julian’s expression became crestfallen without bothering to word his answer. “I woke you up.” It wasn’t a question. “I have been waking you up in the middle of the night for days now. Haven’t I?”
“That doesn’t answer the question, Ilya.” Neville pointed out and drew a chair to sit next to him. “I know that something has been troubling your sleep as of late; you jump out of bed panicked and start pacing around for hours. I want to know who or what to blame for it. Is it the war? Your time with the pirates? Or is it Valdemar, that creepy boss of yours?”
Julian nodded, defeated. “About a week ago they... they put someone’s arm into a blender just to take a cool x-ray... I just... cannot unsee what I saw. I can still hear the screams in my head.”
Neville’s eyes went wide with disbelief, horror and annoyance. “They did whAt now?! Are you bloody kidding me?! A blender?!” He grabbed Julian by his shoulders and pulled him into his arms, wrapping them protectively around him. “Julian, love... You can quit, you know. That person is clearly a sick sadist and a sociopath. I don’t want you to go mad because of him. I wonder how that sweet girl Vicky can handle them... and don’t even get me started on how baby Diantho will turn out to be...”
“Not if I am the one babysitting her... But I understand what you mean. At times like this I think about it too.” Julian’s voice was muffled by the material of Neville’s velvety robe. “But still... I do not want to resign. Even though I find myself hating Valdemar’s guts at times... they are the best doctor I have ever met. If it weren’t for them I wouldn’t be half the doctor I am now; they’ve taught me so many things. Then... I have no issues getting along with my colleagues; Vicky, Omaira and the others... And in this failing economy it wouldn’t be wise to find myself unemployed or working at the legal grey zones. Not when for the first time in my life I want stability and happiness...” Julian cupped Neville’s cheek tenderly and leaned in to kiss his lips softly. “Not when I have found you...”
Neville couldn’t help but blush and pulled the doctor in, crushing their lips together in a needy kiss. “You are the best thing that happened to me, in all these years of misfortune and misery...” Julian managed, when they parted for air, earning him a chuckle and a series of soft neck kisses.
“At least let me tell him off for making your life unbearable... Someone has to... They can’t keep terrorize you like that.” Neville purred, lifting his lover’s thin frame into his arms and carrying him to bed.
“Oh, my prince with his shiny armor...” julian chuckled between kisses. “Well, you can try, I suppose, but don’t expect that there will be much difference. It’s not their fault, really. That’s simply who they are.”
“Well, we don’t know that unless I try. Don’t underestimate my powers of persuasion, my darling angel of death...” Neville snickered mischieviously before pinning Julian’s arms above his head and seductively pull the half-opened shirt down his shoulders using his teeth. Julian bit down his lip to suppress a moan and his eyes fluttered closed. “I would never~”
((I am sorry if this fic seems too hastily written; i am obsessed since I found out about Neville’s character and I had to get all this inspiration out of my system. Dedicated to @gdrawsthings, @halfblooddragonghost and @plaguehostwiththemost.
P.S: Here is the x-ray Julian is talking about. It isn’t a blender; it is a meat grinder that did this. Close enough, I say. If gore triggers you, please do not open the “keep reading” link
