i’ve been fucking around with clip studio paint recently and discovered an AI coloring feature and used it on a sketch ive been working on for a few days now
here’s a (somewhat tweaked and unfinished) Drusa Beryl
quick pic i did of andromeda since i haven’t drawn orion stuff in actually forever. i just realized i forgot to erase the lines through her hair but its a rough sketch so who cares
i never do inktober bc i cant draw like half the prompts but anything that lets me ignore other work and do tangential orion work is something to do. credit to @ragefulmob for getting me to try
(also be aware i never ink so if it looks bad... i do not do this ever)
The Azure Overlord, like many capitol Gemma, was also a man of fashion. While other notable Gemma wore jewelry from well-known designers, Azurite wore a modest silver ring set with deep blue gems of his namesake. When asked who made the piece, he would answer “a friend” with a somber yet nostalgic look on his face.
“There exists a Caulderan myth about a young Pyrexian boy who found himself lost on the slopes of Celosia, trapped by an Obsidia panther. As the boy shut his eyes and prepared for death, he heard a loud noise, as if a hammer had struck metal. He opened his eyes to the most incredible sight - a suit of armor stood between him and the beast, struggling to keep it at bay. The gaps in the plate mail were empty, devoid of any body, but when the helmet turned back to him, a blazing pair of eyes stared him down, urging him to escape. His body ran as fast as it could, trembling with fear. Yet what struck the boy the most, as he fled, was not the shock of the animated armor - it was the haunting blue eyes, and the compassion behind them. “
Andromeda Inked - an Orion Unfathomable short story
so, I wrote a canon short story a little over a year ago now for a creative writing class. I was hoping to introduce the story around the time Andromeda would show up in story (a flawed thought), but that is far away, so i decided it’d be best to release it eventually
do keep in mind it’s old writing, and tumblrs Shit Formatting will take out any italics and correct spacing
as always, feel free to send questions or criticisms this way. enjoy
Andromeda Inked
They set up camp a week before the delivery. It was not their custom to stay in one place long, but this section of the forest was well suited, and they knew it was close.
The canopy opened up to allow the starlight to pour through. The soft rustle of the pale blue leaves gave life to the quiet dark forest. The group all shared in the labor, setting up tents of a dark canvas, and intricate gold stands for dull bronze instruments.
Stopping meant downtime, and downtime was spent wisely. The charters took pride in their observations, slender pens of a fine wood painting the crackled orange surface of parchment with the language of the sky - the stars. Preparations were made, skillful eyes sought out medicinal plants, others tended to the fire. Bedding and tents were set up, and several others cut up vividly colored vegetables and greens for a meal. All hands were to help.
The stars, in their infinite wisdom, guided them across the terrestrial landscape. The world was foreign to them, yet homely. They were born of this earth, but not from it. They had no tether like the terrestrials did. It was their cosmic isolation, the distance they maintained from man.
The stars were integral to the nomads. Stars were the bastions of life in a cold universe. The world they walked was born of the decaying stars. They too, found new life in the passing. The color in their eyes, the iron in their blood, their very soul - forged in the heart of a star.
Tonight was such a night. The charters labored intensively over piles of parchment and ink, whilst the others gathered water, wood, and food. Deliveries were stressful, but in a beautiful way. The process of life, the continuation of the universe, it was all central to their beliefs.
The mother had been set up comfortably in a larger tent. It was a beacon of life in the peaceful lull of dark the camp resided in. Deep orange light spilled from the entrance, and the interior was warm and cozy. The father stayed often, bringing in water and food as necessary. It was a matter of waiting.
Their leader, a middle-aged nomad of around five hundred named Sirius, surveyed the area. His face was older, wise in a way, lined with fatigue of the ages. His hair, lightening from black to a much more silver color, was long and intricately braided. The clearing was large enough to hold their numbers, and he himself had helped set up tents for rest. It was a fine place to have stopped, he considered, gazing upwards. The stars were bright tonight, and they were far from the drowning light of man. He shifted the weight of his armoring, the dark metal plating resting squarely on his shoulders. He had meant to ask the star gazers earlier if they had found which one it was yet. Out there in the sky, stars were dimming.
The Celestial Nomads had a special connection to the stars, for they were the stars. They tracked the movements and peculiarities of the stars, wandering the corners of the Earth in search of heavenly knowledge. They crafted elaborate maps of the heavens, fine recreations of the vast universe in bold inks and sharp parchment. They plotted out the future and past of their people - the stars who once walked among them, and the ones who were destined to journey with them. They were stars reborn into human form, named after the star they came from.
When stars die, they fade slowly into the cold void, spreading across the galaxies. But within those elements are memories - memories of names, of constellations, of stories to what they were and who they would be. The love shown for the stars drew them to the Earth, where they took their human form. For every star that died, a new nomad was born into the world. The stargazers would watch with bated breath, searching for the stars that had died since their last look, a name of the new life that would join them on Earth. A star would be fading tonight, Sirius thought, he felt it in his very soul.
Returning his attention to the camp, he noted that the mother’s tent was glowing even more brightly. Other, more keen observers were already in a commotion. It had begun. The process of birth, despite the great time between them, was a special time for the nomads. It was a lengthy process steeped in tradition, roles that were second nature at this point. The charters continued their search, and others prepared for the birth itself. The father, Cepheus, had gone off into the forest to help search for more water. With the camp tended to, Sirius strode into the forest himself.
The forest was bright for the middle of the night, the vibrant cyan leaves glowing in the moonlight. He had always had an appreciation for how the stars illuminated the world. It filled the nomads with a sort of passion, an energy that helped guide them along their way.
There was a stream not to far away from camp, where he spotted the tell tale robes of the group. The Celestial Nomads all wore a peculiar sort of cloak, a deep velveteen sheet that mirrored space itself. Terrestrials, if ever granted sight of it, considered it a form of magic, some sort of cloth imbued with their mystics.
“Cepheus,” Sirius called in his low, echoing voice. The taller of the three looked up, his expression hopeful. He was a dark eyed man, a deep brown flecked with green that contrasted greatly with his light golden hair. He stood up at attention to their leader, a waterskin still in his hands.
“Yes?” He asked.
“It has begun, I’d advise you be there.” Sirius said, before bowing and turning back. Cepheus stared for a moment, before snapping into action and sprinting back to catch up with Sirius. The younger man maintained a quicker pace, seeming to prefer walking alongside Sirius. He looked worried.
“Is Cassiopeia alright?” He questioned nervously. It was presumably the first birth Cepheus had attended, judging by his anxiety.
“She is in good hands.” Sirius said calmly and silently. He had watched over the nomads for a great amount of time in his five hundred years. He had been present for Cepheus’ birth himself, as well as Cassiopeia’s. She would be taken care of.
The camp, as they returned, was still racing. There was movement in Cassiopeia’s tent, but the atmosphere remained cool and calm. Nomads would race in and out with rags, bowls of water, amongst other items.
Cepheus himself wove through the crowd and into his partners tent. The dull orange of heatstone reverberated off of the canvas walls, and the air was no longer cool and clear. There was a hazy smoke and smell to the room, stemming from herbal remedies they had been burning all night. Cassiopeia laid on the soft cot they had prepared for her, attended by several of the older and wiser nomads. Above the crowd, Cepheus met her eye. His worry melted away, and he grasped her outstretched hand. He crouched down to be level with her
“How are you doing?” He asked tentatively. Cassiopeia’s dark eyes, weary like the rest of her, met his with an expression of deep pain. It was a process, Cepheus thought, and he understood well.
He stayed by her side throughout, helping as he could for her comfort. With one hand, he laid a soft cloth in a basin of cool water, letting it rest for a moment before placing it across her forehead.
“Have the charters found the star yet?” She asked wearily. Cepheus wasn’t quite sure himself. He looked around the room for anyone who would know, when low and behold, Sirius stepped into the tent.
“How goes the delivery?” He asked. A few of the attendants broke off and began conversing with him. From the small bits he heard, it seemed to be going well. Sirius caught Cepheus’ worried look, and politely excused himself from the group. “Is something wrong, Cepheus?”
“Have they found which star it is yet?” He asked, still holding Cassiopeia’s hand softly in his own.
“Not yet, but we could use as many hands as we can get, if you’d join us.” Sirius offered. Cepheus looked back to Cassiopeia, who was already shooing him to go on. Cepheus smiled once more, she knew him so well.
He broke from the warmth of the tent, back into the crisp night air, and closed the crescent clasp on his robes before striding towards the cliff face. The charters stood silently, the faint scribbling of pens the only break in silence. The small clearing offered an unparalleled view of the velveteen sky, but tonight's observations were not for their beauty alone, they were looking for the one.
“I’ll lend a hand.” he informed one of the nearby nomads, who smiled, and moved away from one of the telescopes. Cepheus seated himself and readied one of the maps next to him. He scanned it over briefly to familiarize himself, and let his own intuition guide him. They had swept over a good portion of the sky, but there was more for him to gaze at as well.
His eyes lingered over a particular blank spot on the map, where both Cepheus and Cassiopeia had disappeared from the night sky not but two hundred years before. They had always found it poetic how even in the void of space they had been close, and how their cosmic fate continued in their life on Earth.
A good start at the very least, he considered. Peering into the telescope, his hands precisely and elegantly turned the bronze gears and knobs on the side, watching the crystal lens intently as it focused. Before long, he found himself staring into the deep void of space where he had once been. His sight glanced from the crystal to the parchment, plotting the outline of the dark space. The dark space he and Cassiopeia had left was still surrounded by thousands of shining stars.
“Lacerta…. Pegasus… Aries…” he murmured, tracing around the dark space. He quickly penned the main stars on one of the thinner sheets that laid over the thicker and more bold map underneath. As he scrawled the fine lines of connection between Triangulum, he realized the dark spot was much larger than he’d ever observed. Cepheus stopped for a moment, checking back and forth to make sure he hadn’t forgotten any. His void bordered Polaris, but Cassiopeia’s did not extend down through Pegasus. Whatever had been there was now gone.
It was a blur afterwards, the speed at which Cepheus leaped up from his seat had nearly upset the whole telescope. He rushed towards the main table, spreading the sheet he had been drawing over the main star chart they kept.
“Find something, Cepheus?” Asked Sirius, who had his own sheet laid over the map.
“Possibly…” Cepheus responded, looking desperately for Polaris on the map. Positioning it over, he turned it so the stars overlapped. His map showed the hole where Cepheus and Cassiopeia had been, but the gap extended further down, straight through-
“Andromeda.” Cepheus said aloud, “Andromeda is gone from the night sky.”
Sirius’ face broke into a wide grin, and patted him on the back. Cepheus, who had not been prepared, was nearly winded, but he was too elated to care. Her name was Andromeda!
He raced back to Cassiopeia’s tent. Once more entering the bastion of light and heat, he found Cassiopeia reclining in her cot, a bundle of blankets in her arms. Cepheus slowed down instantly, looking over her in awe.
“It’s a girl.” She whispered hoarsely. Cepheus beamed, the excitement building within him. He rushed over to sit beside her, eager to see his child for the first time. She was tiny, miniscule to the blankets she’d been wrapped in. He could see Cassiopeia in her, the shape of her tiny face and the dark shade of her skin, to which the tuft of golden hair from her head contrasted.
“Did they find it?” She whispered to him after a brief silence. Cepheus nodded excitedly.
“Andromeda has left the night sky, and joined us here on Earth.” He whispered back. Cassioepia gazed downwards at the child, who rested with her eyes shut tightly.
“Do you want to hold her?” She asked, and Cepheus cradled her with distinct care. She rustled faintly in her blankets, appearing to stir. Her eyes opened, and Cepheus was surprised to see his own bright green eyes staring back. Andromeda stared back up at him wide-eyed, like she was trying her hardest to memorize his face. He smiled at her warmly, hearing Cassiopeia gasp at her intensity.
“It must have been some journey.” He laughed, holding her tightly, “Welcome to Earth, Andromeda.”
“Congratulations to the both of you.” A deep voice shook from behind them. Cepheus had not noticed that Sirius was once more present. He walked on over, peering forth into the bundle that Cepheus cradled.
“Hello, Andromeda.” Sirius said in a deep, soothing voice. Andromeda’s eyes went wide open, and she stared into the dark purple of Sirius’ eyes. She was a rather quiet baby, he noted, and observant at that. He returned his gaze to the proud parents, both exhausted from their respective parts in the birth. It was a proud day for the Celestial Nomads.
“She’ll make a fine nomad someday.” He concluded, “The best of luck to the both of you.”
The next few weeks passed rather quickly for the nomads. Past the normal day to day tasks, the charters produced a more current map of the stars, which now missed Andromeda.
Andromeda, however, was not missed by the nomads. As the days went on and Cassiopeia regained her strength, little Andromeda became the star of the camp. The normal cool lull of the nomads became a little more vibrant with her around, and everyone adored her. Sirius and Cepheus had worked on knitting a little purple cap for her to wear in the cold; and other nomads worked on a small harness so Cassiopeia and Cepheus could carry her around.
The nomads never stayed in one place for very long, and so it was soon that they packed their dark canvas tents, curled up their many scrolls and maps, and left the azure forest behind. The walked silently in their robes of space, to wherever the stars would lead them. The sky was their map, and they had now taken a piece of it with them. And as the nomads continued their cosmic journey, little Andromeda looked up to the stars, staring at the majesty and brilliance of a past life.
“The sailor held his hands to his ears, attempting to block out the shrill painful noises echoing from all around. They rang through the salty air, and every wave of the sea served to bounce them back towards the deck of the ship. Although the ocean was calm, their boat rocked violently, water and seafoam spitting upwards and raining over the deck. His crewmates were scattered across the aft, peering towards the inky black sea to try and see what creature was attacking.
“Navigator!” he cried to the robed man standing at the helm, “we need to turn back!” Yet the helmsman looked serene, the magic flowing from his hands still keeping the boat afloat.
“She’s calling me back home.” the navigator whispered, taking a step forward. Two more sailors rushed him, holding him back. He struggled violently, tendrils of magic energy forcing them away. “Who would ever ignore such a sweet song?”
“He’s Halcian!” another crewman shouted at the sailor, as the navigator strode to the very edge of the boat. “They’re going to strand us if they take him!” The sailor rushed towards the man, gripping him tightly. Opening his eyes, he saw her - two round beacons of light glinting just above the brackish water. Her coarse hair swirled around her like seafoam, with sprigs of coral jutting from the top of her skull. Her mouth opened to reveal razor sharp teeth, as her piercing wail threw the sailor back against the hardwood. A great splash of water came a moment later, and their navigator was no more. With a lurch, their boat was once more gripped by the current, the green glow of magic gone from its hull. The piercing screech grew faint as their ship drifted from the spot. Yet as they were helplessly pulled away, the sailor could have sworn he heard their navigator singing along with them.”
