#renren-art

[theonerenren]

Here's my card for the new artfight season! I am so hyped for this year's themes <3

[theonerenren]

~SPOOKY MONTH IS ON~

I wish everyone lots of fun! Here are my characters with opposite day costumes!

The legend says Genis is still wearing these horns after Halloween was over-

[theonerenren]

Newer artwork by me! I like using these big overhead lights in portraits, they bring so much of the characters' personality into it imho..

Slight lore under the cut!

Officer Sar/Sariel

As a half-Angel, Sariel had worked harder to earn the respect of their colleagues, going above and beyond in spite of the sleepless nights. Most of their work is repetitive, slow- administrative tasks no one else was bothered to get to. Sariel does it gladly, an excuse to shut himself inside of the archives, hands in every report and internal document. The notes he takes in those confidential meetings? Another copy wouldn't hurt to keep in his back pocket.

Others often describe Officer Sar as a brooding man, a reliable soul who unfortunately lost all faith in the world around him. They don't believe him to be religious in the slightest; not the type- they claim. They'd sooner see him at a local festival holding a plush toy he won from a booth. However, they couldn't be more wrong. Sariel's faith not only matched theirs- it transcended it. After all, he believed fully in his role as a sacred piece on the infinite board, his faith pre-determined by the One Above. He had seen it happen in the past, the glorious hand coming from the Heavens, choosing his amidst a crowd of his brethren. He had been chosen. No, was Chosen.

When the gaze of eternal Paradise met his, he knew there was no coming back from this. A path of dark, for the greater good. For survival.

If he could be fully speak his truth, Sariel would lay it bare; he didn't care one bit about the task assigned to him, not as much as the person giving it.

[theonerenren]

Art of my OC Armaros, dressed for Halloween!

[theonerenren]

New OC art! Click down for full piece.

TW: Injury, graphic, disturbing themes

"It's like I can't even die anymore."

[theonerenren]

OC COMIC - "The Truth"

"Dear Children... "

His voice, confident as ever, echoed down the aisle, inviting all eager eyes to meet his own. The Exiled spoke with grace, shadowed by a dark figure at his side, casting a gentle gaze on the assembly.

The truth was as clear as day; the prayers they held for the One had never once reached Their ears. Instead, their desperation had been akin to a bottle tossed into the sea, lost to the thick foam of the eras.

"But it does not have to be so."

The troubled crowd was silenced right then. Just as the Hand from Above had been cut, and the lighthouse of Hope had dimmed, a new Light surged in its place. Bright, new, tangible.

Angelic. Human.

[theonerenren]

"A new Golden age" - New art piece by me!

Click here for the lore~

"It is the last time these gears shall turn. As the clock prepares to strike for midday, no other path but forward for a man like myself.

The faithful shall witness a show like no other; a canvas painted by the Hand of a Savior, a gift to them. A gift to Him.

Each of my steps is guided by the notes of the organ, drawing me closer to an aisle of promise and salvation. As I glance at my peers, faces hidden under cloth, none of their hands reaches out to grasp at my sleeve, no voice is raised to interject to this ordeal. Almost impossible to notice, but my pace slows for just a moment, weighed down by a silent prayer- "Put an end to this."

And yet, it never comes.

Like a fish out of water. Or a kitten thrown in a river. A helpless struggle as a force of nature ravages through one's life. And I'm in the middle of it, suffocated by air, and so empty of it.

But in the end? The coldest of comforts, a stabbing embrace as the bells sing in my ears.

It's finally time."

[theonerenren]

"It's just the two of us, now."

More lore under the cut !

"It all haunts me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it- all these decisions I had made, leading me to this one inevitable outcome. As much as I try to stop them, these thoughts cannot stop crawling back to all of the things I could have- no, should have done differently, making me feel the full sting of regret.

There was a part of me, much more hopeful than I actually was, that wished I had stopped him as soon as that nonsense plan had escaped his mouth. That's what people usually told their friends in that situation, right? "Don't do it. Please reconsider". But of course, I didn't. At the time, I could give him was a simple, grave nod.

Acceptance.

I knew he was being realistic - I had known the man for only a few months, and yet, I had quickly come to realize he would never use the word "Sacrifice" lightly. His last little lesson, I had carved it into my mind, echoing ever since I had heard it. "This isn't the best, but this is the best we can afford to have".

Now, I wish to simply follow in his footsteps, hoping to save the one thing he left behind. I don't consider it punishment, though - I believe it is merely atonement, a debt repaid to a great friend."