#valcarion

[quaenam]

Commission for @sheirukitriesfandom, her OC Valcarion with Valsirenn from ESO.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Seeking out the one spot in the holiday home that hat wifi to bring you a quick little doodle of chief Justiciar Valcarion wearing a dark wig for once because I didn't feel like darkening the background 😅

Black marker, pencil, white coloured pencil and gel pen

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Valcarion, Chief Justiciar of the Divine Prosecution

And, evidently, lover of big periwigs. This is a slightly younger picture of him, just after he was promoted.

My second drawing on pastelmat and gosh, that paper is a delight. I just love how many layers it allows. Still, shading periwigs is a science of its own...

Pastel chalk, charcoal and coloured pencil on pastelmat, ~6 hrs

[sheirukitriesfandom]

@dirty-bosmer , @skyrim-forever and @miraakulous-cloud-district tagged me to do this quiz:

Another romantic lovesick quiz because my heart keeps screaming <3 bittersweet but hopeful results ahead because love is currently hurting m

Thank you~

I decided to answer for Rashkan, Rethul and Valcarion.

Tagging: @elavoria @alma-amentet @katastronoot @littlegalerion @thequeenofthewinter @fenriael

Rashkan:

dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

Rethul:

soft fresh green

Nice breeze, bare feet and freshly cut grass. Your love is a lighthearted hope for the future. It's protecting your eyes from the sun but enjoying the light rays still, it's laying on the grass and feeling it tickle your neck. You look to the side and they look back at you, full of hope and plans too. You plan together and laugh all day and your sunburn will feel like them. Your love is delicate, hesitant. A well curated binder full of collages for a future you can't be sure will come, but you keep going, you keep planning, you keep squinting at the sun and smiling, and running your hands through the grass so it will smell better. You keep holding onto the bright sky even as the sunsets, even as the starry night stares back. But you keep on holding, you keep on dreaming, you close your eyes and feel the sun on your skin and convince yourself that the sunburn is good, it's something to hold on to, just makes it linger a bit longer. Your love is a lighthearted hope for the future. It's sweet and wonderful and it keeps love alive, makes the world a better place. You run your hands through the grass, clench your fingers tighter and keep making plans. And I can only thank you and hope I can learn to love like you someday.

Valcarion:

bright sunny yellow

Sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun. Your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. It's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. It's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. It's the the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment. It's the impatience too. The bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. It's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. And still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. Your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it. It's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait. It's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven. It's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. And you bonce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. It's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. And it does, I promise it does. The waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. And it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Oh my dear Chief Justiciar ~ 💜

Valcarion, based on a portrait of the 18th century poet Alexander Pope, since they look a bit similar.

Polychromos, white gel pen, 200g/m² sketching paper

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Inspired by @elavoria 's recent drawing of Ralis Sedarys, I wanted to see how my markers would fare on toned paper. Until now I've been hesitant to try this because on my other non-marker pads they tend to bleed like crazy.

I'm positively surprised. I didn't manage to blend out Valcarion's wig as much as I'd have liked, but the face??? I really dig this.

Please enlarge for less blurriness.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Also, here's a useless OC fact:

Valcarion actually bleaches his eyebrows so they fit with his grey and off-white wigs.

[sheirukitriesfandom]

shaved ice and mouse trap for Valci~

Aww, thank you for asking. Here goes:

do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Oh Valcarion has a couple of things.

For example, he still has his first plushy, a gryphon he got after his naming ceremony, which then also became that plushy's naming ceremony. It's called birdie because that's what baby Valcarion said when pointing at it. By now it's lost one eye and the other has been replaced by a button. The stuffing had to be renewed too. Although Birdie isn't a part of Valcarion's everyday life (but occupies a "roost" at his bedside), it's quite important to Valci because that plushy was his first friend. He'd be very upset if he lost it and would likely put up a lucrative bounty to have it retrieved.

what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

Corentin. 

Corentin above all else. 

Valcarion is a mother hen when it comes to his adoptive son. His worries are unfortunately not unfounded though; Corentin has suffered anti-Maormer racism in the past, including violent attacks. Likewise, Valci fears that the maormer wouldn't treat him any better should he run into one of their groups due to being half-half. Valci tends to throw any and all rationality out of the window the moment Corentin could be in danger. His fellow justiciars have to rein him in then, since he also doesn't care if he is hurt in the process.