Call me Detective, if you please. They/Them Toyhouse (under construction) and Artfight of the same name Mod of @thelabsofficial and creator of Lucien A. Blanche My main hobby is making silly little guys and then bullying them. Also D&D. These are interchangeable. Big Tech can pry the four pointed star from my cold lifeless flesh
Some practice with a looser painting style featuring my darling Oenaeus <3 It’s not perfect but it was surprisingly fun to play around with blending on pretty much one layer
Last 3 Artfight attacks! Stuff got in the way of getting 15 but I’m happy with 13. I got way more out of my comfort zone than last year and it was really fun!
The Labs team hopes everyone’s had a fun pride month!
Now more than ever, remember that you don’t stop being valid once pride month ends, and you didn’t stop being valid if you never engaged with pride month. Everyone deserves to love and be loved, no matter what form that takes for you. Never let people try to convince you otherwise.
Meet the heroes (though not the protagonists!) of The Labs! While they may be a ragtag, recently-met team, they all answered the call to stop Niles and Lucien in their tracks. The trio are all aware of them to some extent, though Niles has personally dubbed them his arch nemeses, as they tend to get in the way of his plans more than anyone.
Detective Casimir “Casey” Clarke (front)- Leader and brains of the team. Casimir is a practiced detective whose face is somehow constantly cloaked in shadow. He has a talent for formulating strategies on the fly, and his magic allows him to wield his hands as though they were guns. He enjoys smoking a good cigar over a book or a deep conversation, and has a soft spot for cats.
Sparrow (right)- Speedster and charisma of the team. Sparrow is a witty and talkative hero, whose magic allows them to fly and hover at lightning fast speeds. While they have a habit of making decisions before they have the chance to think them through, they can be relied upon to make a quick getaway. Sparrow loves a good meal with friends, as well as sporty activities, even if they have to suppress their speed to make it fair.
Remus Grimdark (left)- Brawn and backpack of the team. Remus Grimdark is never seen without his armor, and yet is surprisingly nimble on the front lines. His portal magic allows him to act as the heroes’ inventory, which is also useful to hold the massive sword he swings around like a toy. While he is quiet about his interests, he gets passionate about a good fight with a good opponent.
Philomena “Phi-Phi” Marguerite Amaranth (top)- Heart of the group. Phi-Phi believes that everything can be solved through conversation and friendship, and wishes to reform Niles and Lucien rather than defeat them. While her flying broom can be unwieldy and her potions don’t always work as intended, Phi-Phi always stands strong and is more than capable of pulling her weight on the team. She enjoys any moment with friends where she feels connected to them, and spends a lot of her time alone studying alchemy.
He joined the ranks at the minimum age allowed, surprisingly durable, unafraid of injury despite his fumbling with a sword. He had no time to complete his training before he was needed on the field. Soldiers called it a miracle that he survived his first battle, a conflict brutal enough to be officially titled a massacre among the many, many others. The bloodshed jaded his youthful smile, but not his dreams of peace for the people of the kingdom. He resolved himself to get stronger to overcome the next hardship. He wasn’t ready when the next hardship came, and went, and the one after that followed. But month after month, year after painful year, he survived. Slowly his commanders fell, and slowly he rose, and the stories of his selflessness rose with him. Soon the rumors spread. “That knight is unkillable,” they would say, regaling tales of impalement and blood loss and an apathy towards death itself. “That knight is immortal.”
A year passed since his final promotion, full of grueling marches and demanding letters. The knight did his best to protect the troops he was assigned, the lives placed in his hands, following a king he had never met into a sea of red armor that glared against the sun. It was a hard choice, whether or not to carry out those letters. Over and over he paced in his tent, making the wrong decision in the name of duty. Over and over he tallied the men who managed to return. Over and over he remained just out of reach of those who didn’t. Eventually, he was forced to make a choice. Clutching the letter that would mean the death of either his men or a town of rebellious civilians just tired of the fighting, he shouted across town square, renouncing the king and his claim to the throne. He vowed his service and soul to the common folk, who had raised him and supported him and provided for him. The rumors of his immortality struck terror into the knights duty-bound to cut down him and his men. Some returned claiming the rumors were true. Some claimed those who didn’t return were made weak by their own fear. The rebellion cheered his name as their unkillable soldier.
The king’s forces were already culled in his childish war, leaving his defenses spread thin. Surrounded by a sea of red armor, held at the tip of a blade, he was forced to lay his eyes upon a scene which he wrought upon the soldiers who pledged themselves in his name. He held no guilt, no despair, only a contempt that spat from his mouth in curses and threats. The knight had every reason to feel the rage of a man who lost his every friend to a dismissive flick of this man’s wrist. He only felt relief in knowing those wrists would be bound, sheathing his sword stained with the blood of someone else’s friends. The king’s fate was handled by the civilians, their cheers carried by the wind to the open window he paced beside, knowing the war would not end without negotiations from a leader. He entrusted the decision of their new rule to the people, anxious to know who would lead him to the battlefield. Whatever their choice, he would support his kingdom without hesitation.
He hesitated when he heard their choice. He stood in front of the masses who awaited his support, his leadership. He wanted to give it to them, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Desperation clawed its way from his throat, spilling out as an obvious truth he felt ashamed to have kept for so long. He insisted that an immortal ruler would bring a terrible imbalance of power. He pleaded with them to reconsider. In the end, he was too devoted to his people to deny their wishes.
For 400 years, the stories of the kingdom laid out an indisputable fact. The king was immortal.
Once upon a time, there was a royal knight.
He joined the ranks as a jaded man, surprisingly durable, unafraid of injury and incredibly precise with a sword. He completed his training with flying colors and urged his commanders to dispatch him as soon as possible. Soldiers called him a machine when he returned from his first battle, a quick conflict that could have cost them a lot more. The bloodshed never seemed to faze him, only fueling his objective to end the war before a decade could pass. He resolved himself to climb the ranks, to stand at the head of battalions, to mitigate the casualties. He showed intimate knowledge of the battlefield, never wavering from the front lines for even a moment. He soared the ranks of those who once led him, as the stories of his selflessness soared with him. Soon the rumors spread. “That knight is unkillable,” they would say, regaling tales of final stands and slashed ligaments and a disregard towards death that bordered on contempt. “That knight is immortal.”
Many months passed after his promotion to lead, full of determined marches and hopeful letters. The knight protected the men he was assigned, lives weighing effortlessly on his shoulders, following a king who was leading his own troops on another front. The knight held no doubt in carrying out those letters. He placed his full trust in the man who had ended his own war 400 years ago. He took fatal blows meant for others where he could. He made lists of the men who had fallen at his side. Eventually, he was urged to make a choice. Holding the letter that called for one final push, he announced the strategy he devised across the field of tents, praising their king’s dedication to fighting alongside his men. He vowed he would bring every man home as the king had wistfully dreamed of in the letter. The rumors of his immortality only grew as he cut down the enemy commanders all on his own. When the deciding battle was over, none of the casualties were fatal. The soldiers cheered his name as their unkillable commander.
The king summoned the knight at once to the castle upon his own return. Battered and bruised from a relentless assault, he sat at his throne, finally laying his eyes upon the knight that guided his men back home. He swelled with pride, singing praises of the knight’s victory and promising him well deserved recognition for his deeds. The knight should have expressed his pride and honor to serve his country. He only knelt still, silent, leaving the king’s words hanging heavy in the air. The king couldn’t hold back the question burning in his mind for a moment longer, and was elated to have his hopes confirmed, that he had finally laid his eyes upon a kindred spirit. The knight admitted to his selfish goal of meeting the king through his work on the field, desperate to meet someone who was undoubtedly immortal as he was. He pledged his blade to the king, who urged him to consider the eternity ahead of him, but could not turn him away.
The knight was paraded alongside the king for his dedication to the kingdom. He stood in front of the masses as he was adorned with medals and titles and a place in the castle. The people cheered as he spoke of his immortality as though it were an ordinary occurrence. In the privacy of the castle, the knight and king broke all decorum to share stories of their lives that spanned generations. The king confessed he would be happy to spend generations more with his knight alongside him. The knight confessed to the same. In the end, he devoted everything he was to his king.
For years to come, the stories of the kingdom laid out an indisputable fact. The king’s commander was immortal.
Sometimes you find a note about a dream you had in August and drop everything to design a whole new crew for the sillies what can I say.
The Faculty works at “the building” because I can’t decide what to call it so neither can its residents. The residents being people who have accidentally left the bounds of time and space and are now stuck in this hotel/dorm/apartment that is located outside said bounds. Residents range from medieval commoners to time travelers to missing children to actual ghosts. Some find their way home, some already are home. The Faculty takes care of them all regardless.
Lucien’s quite a bit late to Tumblr compared to Cara. Dunno why I did that.
Anyways, meet Lucien Amadeus Blanche, supervillain and mad scientist! Master of poisons and antidotes, as well as the controller of a large hivemind of mechanical spiders. He’s also the arch enemy of that rat bastard Niles over on @undeadbard ‘s place.
jbbartram-illu
dededos
yousharknotpass
janainaart
kaledo-art
stormborns
