The Faerie at the table shifted position, their expressions placid and slightly interested. She couldn’t help but feel as though they were silently mocking her for the spill. Which they were.
....Everywhere she looked, everything she smelled or touched was art. Everything she heard was music to distract the attention, or were exceedingly dangerous words that demanded it. The simple scene of a patio with wine, crackers and cheese served in the center, a short ruined wall and numerous statues was a complicated piece of machinery, where every single thing around her was working against her or working for the ambassador.
This is a cut-away from a much larger piece, detailing Sandra's negotiations with these crazy people. It is wildly unfinished but I've been staring at it for months now and I want to get *something* out. So here you are. Two assassins, and an ambassador, and a... little nymph-like figure smirking (not mentioned in the story, but... I get carried away. Sorry.)
I just started a tumblr account, in an attempt to more readily express myself as I'm going through some rough times, and since this piece wound up there, yep, there's 2 big fat watermarks.
Anyway.
Candle-light is fun to illustrate. Faerie are fun. Statues are fun.
SUPER FINELY DETAILED STONE AND TREES ARE NOT FUN.
I'm looking at you, Wildbow.
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