Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Art fit for a King (KR)

Charlie put the mask on and felt a small tingle of magic run through his body. As he took the first step up to the mansion, he wobbled uncertainly; his eyesight seemed sharper with the mask on and the colours seemed different. There was something about the colours that he just couldnât put his finger on. He pondered this as he ascended the remaining steps and entered the mansion.
Inside he found himself in a small entrance hall. The hall was small but it had enough grandeur to fill a whole house. The cornices were painted with great detail so they looked like the room had no edge. The carpet was thick and velvety and it cushioned Charlie's feet like nothing he had ever come across before. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a small dagger which he had found out in the streets. He walked over to a rug placed in front of a washstand and lifted up one corner. Using the dagger, he cut out a small square of carpet and then placed the rug over it.

Excellent, he thought, A souvenir!

Placing the carpet in his pocket, he looked up and found himself looking at a painting of a man with bright blue pheasant head. It looked like the man was half bird and half human, for his face looked so lifelike. Wondering what type of material could have captured such a vibrant image, Charlie reached out to touch it.

As Charlie moved his hand, the birdman in the painting reached up its hand in the exact same way that he did. He moved his arm to the left and once again the painting followed him. What is this magic that causes such an illusion? Charlie thought. His curiosity getting the better of him, Charlie moved his hand forward and touched the painting.

It was cold and smooth and unlike any painting Charlie had ever seen before. That's because, Charlie realised, it isnât actually a painting, and it is some kind of metal that is polished so that it is shiny. It is actually reflecting me. Oh, is that me? Charlie marvelled at how the mask that he was wearing had transformed him into a beautiful blue pheasant. Hang on a second, Charlie thought, are pheasants even blue? Oh well.

After he had taken his fill, he once again pulled out his dagger and used its hilt to break a piece off the mirrors corner.

Excellent, another souvenir!

Charlie now turned towards the great double doors that led to the adjoining room of the mansion. He had already lingered for too long inside the entrance hall and was probably late for whatever was behind those doors. Casually, he walked up to the doors and pushed both open at once with his arms. The doors opened wide and he saw a great ballroom, filled with many masked people dancing around. It was a spectacular sight and in Charlie's awe, he did not notice the doors swinging back.

BANG! Charlie got a hard knock on the head which pushed him back into the entrance hall. Hoping that no one noticed, he cautiously opened one of the doors wide enough for him to get through. A little dazed, he descended the steps to the dance floor.

Looking around at the other dancers, he noticed many different creatures. It seemed that although they were wearing masks which made them seem half animal, some of the creatures were actually creatures. Also, he saw some kind of wolf headed woman trying to dance. She wasnât having much success and kept falling over.
He spotted many other creatures on the floor, including a beautiful peacock woman who kept glancing at him.

Charlie wandered over to the refreshments table and surveyed its contents. There were tall glasses of champagne, fat glasses of red wine and some small shot glasses of some strange green liquid that was smoking just to name a few. Charlie picked up one of the shot glasses and poured the contents into a vase of flowers sitting on the table. He then put the glass in his pocket and picked up a cup of apple juice which he downed in one gulp.

As Charlie turned around to search the crowd of dancers to see if he could find anyone that he knew, he found himself face to face with the lady with the peacock mask. She was very beautiful, well the mask was, so Charlie offered to dance with her.

'Errâ¦Hi,' he said uncertainly, 'Doâ¦.ummâ¦.would you give me theâ¦ummâ¦...happinessâ¦of dancing with Charlieâ¦oops, I mean meâ¦I'm Charlieâ¦.Do'
Charlie's uncertain stumbling was stopped by the peacock woman placing one of her slender fingers on his lips.
'Shh, Donât waste your breath, you might need it later,' she whispered, 'I'm Anna, come and dance,' He voice was sweet and melodious, like wind chimes tinkling in a warm summer breeze.
Anna led him onto the dance floor, her hand soft and warm in Charlie's. Charlie felt gobsmacked, here was a beautiful lady who had swept him off of his feet and he had no idea what to do. He wasn't even sure if he could remember how to dance, the last time that he had had to was at his school formal and he couldnât remember how many years ago that was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF PART 1~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What do you think? I went through and fixed all of the " ' "s so I hope it is easy to read...

KingRYan

Finally!
An art thread for king(or queen) of the bogans!

On a more serious note, I have been waiting for this thread ever since I saw your first MWT entry. My dream has come true!

Looking forward to some of your art man.

ninja'd!

Nice story dude!

Stupid sighns....

An art thread for king(or queen) of the bogans!

Ahahahahaha, old history hurts doesn't it :P

We have made an unspoken pact never to mention the bogan wars, unless it is to remind ourselves that we are not speaking about the bogan wars!

Come on, KR, finish up, while I find a timeslot to do the ASC...

Well...I think I forgot this thread...so I will now revive it with some pictures I drew in GIMP...







Tell me what you all think.

KingRyan

Oh noes I forgot to colour his face...

Anyone got a response?

KingRyan

Awesome!

And this chara is called? (lol)

The third one looks a bit messy and as if the ink was bleeding, which isn't entirely possible for digital works. What are those extra black specks?

The third one looks a bit messy and as if the ink was bleeding, which isn't entirely possible for digital works. What are those extra black specks?

I didn't make this...but I think it is cool...

Just reviving this thread to advertise my dA account...where I am putting lots of the art that I have done! It makes everything a lot more easier to deal with!

My deviantART Page

Everyone have a looksies and a commentsies!

I have always loved why did 6 eat 7 or whatever.

I have always loved why did 6 eat 7 or whatever.

Reviving this, even though it has been dead for about 9 months...I have a story to post!

The Show...

Is over. The actors have played their parts, the sets sit now abandoned. A lone figure wanders the park, trying to make sense of it all.

A boy, lying on the cold, hard ground, body lost to the world, mind lost to the drug. His face holding a tortured expression as shadows pierce his dreams.

A girl, leaning against an iron shed, her knees at her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes, red and puffy stare fearfully into the shadows. The note in her pocket sits heavily, no compensation for the pain she feels as she realises what she's done.

The operator, the man who works the rides, a job so repetitive that the weeks meld into each other and become lost. His once prominent joy from entertaining people long gone, he leans against a tree, cursing his choices and wishing that he hadn't chosen this life, and that he had stayed home with his wife. The loneliness becomes to much and he cries silently, his face in his hands.

A cruel wind blows, whipping up the dust. The now desolate alleys are filled with the creaking and rustling as the wind blows moves the rides and lifts the copious rubbish into the air.

Like a rare tree left in a fire, the figure stands and sees it all, and feels the pain. He closes his eyes, opening them to what once was.

A full alley, people milling and talking jubilantly, voices melding together. The whoosh as rides fly by, their occupants screaming in excitement, while the owners greedily oversee the transfer of money.

The boy, hesitantly taking a small packet from a stranger, and slipping it into his pocket.

The girl, with her friends, being approached by a stranger and then giggling at the flash of money.

And the man, laughing uncertainly as he converses with a stranger, being told how good the outside world is...

Closing his eyes again, the figure reopens them to the deserted alley and the three; the boy, the girl and the man.

Filled with pity, the figure looks at the three...wondering. His eyes lingering on the girls lost expression for a moment longer before he turns and walks briskly away. For what can one person do for three...and more importantly, why should he help them? They got themselves into the mess...

And without a backward glance, he was enveloped into the night, only a handful of footprints as a proof that he was ever there.

But the boy, the girl and the main still remain. Their fear, pain and grief comforted only by the night as they slowly fade away.

And the wind, it forever blows...

Fin.