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etherealninfa · 14 days

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Inspector Gadget week 2024

@inspectorgadget24

Day 4: Crossover/ Alternative Universe.

This is a silly AU I created, inspired in an old tv commercial about a toilet brush with Don Adams voice (Inspector Gadget's voice) so the the toilet brush is Gadget and my Oc Ninfa is a sponge😭💖

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minicoffeeccino · 1 year

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Pokeddexy Day 24: Best design

Tinkaton. Let’s see: smol, cute, carries giant weapon, a hater, and causes problems on purpose? Hell yeah let’s goooooooo

#pokeddexy2023 #pokeddexy #pokemon gijinka #tinkaton #paldea region #pokemon scarlet and violet #drawing challenge #She was born a hater. She loves hating. Hating gives her life #her <333 #Again. This is Ninfa

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kaiapanito · 2 months

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Ninfa 🌸

I always enjoy drawing her 😍

#myart #illustration #ethernalwip #myocs #character design #digital illustration #fairy #fantasy art #EW: Ninfa

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panquequesatanico · 8 months

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Este Panqueque hizo un Re-draw de una vieja ilustración que hizo hace años para Inktober.

¡Se trata de ninfas árticas!

Este Panqueque está feliz con el resultado 7-7

#DigitalIlustrations #Color #DigitalArt #PanquequeSatánico #Ilustration #Art #DigitalColor

#art

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acodexofourtime · 1 year

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The Chamber of Ultimate Solutions

Long before Doctor Orfeo came to Santa Ninfa, when Enrico Benedetto was a much younger, more hopeful man, the country was recovering from what seemed a long nightmare. It had been a short time since the war, and its effects still felt like ground glass to the heel. Many in the city knew someone who vanished without a trace, lost to the myriad fronts and in so many cruel ways: disintegration, exile to the moon, and the quick injustice of a shot to the heart, and that was that. The city’s municipal cemetery was so burdened with the onrush of scrip detailing the lost and their approximate place of disappearance that it stopped offering individual memorials and started constructing one for all lost soldiers.

In order to put those sorrowful times behind them, the people of the town found new ways to govern and to take care of themselves while the administrative region tried to rebuild in one moment, and invoked austere measures in the next. As services crumbled and the street lights went out one by one, Angelo “The Shark” showed his hand, in force. His crew of hench folk would scurry about, establishing order and basic services, turning the rubble pits into garden oases. In time, Angelo became Don Tartufo, known for his hard shell and simmering interior, his tooth sweet for money and crushing all dissent. While the water and electricity came back on, it kept running through sheer intimidation,terror, and a steady collection of bribes. People went about their days with a bit of money in their pocket for bribes and some more money tucked behind their ears for bread and tomatoes. To say that the city came to suffer under Don Tartufo’s yoke was no exaggeration.

On the day that Enrico returned to Santa Ninfa after a long absence in Canada, he went to the harbor overlook down the old tufa causeway. In a single motion he took off the iron ring he wore on his pinky, swearing to the mysterious islands beyond that he would shape his native land for the better. Drawing out a faceted bronze ring from the local Engineering Society, he slid it onto his index finger, and clenched his fist to his heart, swelling with the pride of new ideas.

A meaty hand slapped Enrico in the back of the head. “Nice ring, weenie.”

Enrico wheeled around, and faced down two dog-faced goons from Don Tartufo’s squad of enforcers.

“Care to contribute to the harbor fund?”, rumbled the first enforcer, a man as wide as he was tall, with a grayish cast to his skin from old stubble, and his bangs obscuring his eyes completely.

“Do I have a choice?”, asked Enrico.

“We always have a choice,” grinned the second enforcer.

With that, the first enforcer popped Enrico in the eye, and the second swept him up by the ankle to shake out his pockets and tug off his ring. After the pair collected their fee in pennies and baubles, they dumped Enrico under a clothesline in front of an old tenement. Enrico dragged himself back to his apartment, and, clad in a blank eye, sat in his wood-paneled study, stewing within himself. He grabbed his old fountain pen, the heat from his grasp softening the celluloid. His ears began to steam, and his body gave off heat as though it was a pot-bellied stove. Setting aside his half-melted pen, he picked up a pencil which quickly charred. In his anger and frustration, he drew up a plan for a sunken road the likes of which the Etruscans would be proud of, and which he himself would never build outside of his own dreams.

It was a mere week before he finished, and by that point, he had begun to cool down. At the last moment he picked up his phone, his thumb-print melted in the resin of the handle. He dialed his friends, the Melon Brothers, who worked in the archives.

“It’s me. I need a favor from you both. I just designed the most vengeful road to nowhere you’ve ever seen. It starts at the old castle; I just need a good end. I need it to be the chamber of ultimate solutions for Don Tartufo and his cronies.”

Having answered Enrico on speaker, the Melon brothers looked at each other, pushing back their blond hair from their eyes in unison.

“Say no more,” Austin Melon said, leaning towards the little transistor, “can you get down here this afternoon? I think we can look into a few options.”

“We have a file on these kinds of places,” said Stephen, the second Melon brother, as he leaned forward absent-mindedly, and bumped heads with his brother, exclaiming “Oh, my head!” in a pained way, his eyes closing and his hand flying up to stifle the pain.

“Is everything all right over there? I thought I heard two bowling balls smashing together.”

“What do you think, brother?,” asked Stephen, still clutching his head.

“Fine,” said Austin, and shook his head at Stephen.

“If you say so. I’ll let you take care of whatever you have to take care of. I’ll be down after lunchtime - thanks!” said Enrico, as his melted phone dripped black onto the workbench below.

After Enrico hung up, he found that the morning hours had faded, and before he knew it he threw on his coat and sped on his way across town to the City Archives. In the Melon brothers’ dark office, they pored over an ancient map of a tomb built over a vein of lava. The three of them were united in their extreme dislike of Don Tartufo and his ham-fisted rule over the city. They knew they would have the blessing of its citizens if they were to design a trap for the crime boss. They put in a few phone calls and cobbled together the funds to start work in a few weeks.

The groundbreaking ceremony was brief, held at twilight, and punctuated by the sound of countless bats that swarmed the silhouette of the moon. After the first week of digging was done, lead by a foreperson who supervised the work site with the help of her dog companion, who she could communicate with fluidly by singing old, crooning songs of nostalgia, an ancient thermae network was uncovered, replete with effigies of caryatids, murals of wide-eyed tentacled faces, and human forms with wings spiraling through a network of pink cloud. When they had the site ready to go, with the old mysterious chamber rigged up as the ultimate destination out of the city, it was advertised as a hilltop movie house in a forgotten ruin. An invitation to preview the movie house was penned by Enrico on papyrus, written with dark iron gall ink, and sent by courier to Don Tartufo’s manor.

One the appointed date, a white brocade carpet was rolled out, and Don Tartufo arrived with his entourage of scarred faces and switchblade knives, lead in by the Melon Brothers, who wore matching yellow and blue striped suits. At the end of the carpet stood Enrico himself, wearing a white suit, accented with a carnelian eyed skull bolo.

“Enrico,” grumbled Don Tartufo, “what a thing to do to a place that belongs to antiquity!”

“What can I say? I’ve always loved the past, Don Tartufo,” grinned Enrico, ushering the party beyond the threshold of leering visages and fanciful, whirling forms.

The double doors to the theater stood within a corona of red light at the end of the short antechamber. Their windows were black and riveted around the edges. The others in the party held back, as Enrico and Don Tartufo approached the doors first. Don Tartufo looked over at Enrico and suddenly grabbed him by the bicep.

“From this moment to the next, we’re going to trade places in this world. Don’t argue with me about it. I already know.”

“With all due respect, Don Tartufo, but there’s no replacing you.”

“I’m telling you, I saw it already in my black mirror. I want you to know it was my choice.” With that, Don Tartufo turned back to the party, and glowered, “This is is a private showing. Everyone go home.”

Don Tartufo turned again to the red shadowed doors and pushed them open. A hollow, echoing squeak of metal on metal resounded through the room. Don Tartufo hesitated a moment, then entered, and closed the doors behind him. A scraping metallic noise came from the other side of the closed doors, as though a heavy latch was being secured.

Don Tartufo looked up at the film that was being projected for him. It was something very old, and beyond anything he had ever had the time to see. As it unfolded before him, he started to approach the screen, advancing down the twinkling lights of the aisle path. His pupils dilated as the screen grew brighter and brighter, chromatic aberrations cantering around him. “It’s just like the faery rings he read about when he was a boy, he thought to himself,” and he held up his hand, which was growing transparent like water, fading in and out of subsistence.

No one knew exactly what happened to Don Tartufo that day. His spectator wingtip loafers were found standing in front of the screen, and nothing more. The Mathmos Theater had opened in the most mysterious capacity it could, and its proprietor, Enrico, was carried by a surging crowd of cityfolk from the besieged neighborhoods of Santa Ninfa up to Don Tartufo’s castle. Over time, even after Enrico came to be known as Don Benedetto, he never forgot about Don Tartufo’s prophecy, and he wondered if it was in fact a curse.

#The Continuing Adventures of Doctor Orfeo

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b-bopbell · 1 year

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🦂Nora:🎊🎉 ¡Les presento a mi nueva nuera!🎊🎉❤🤗😍 Se llama Flora🌹, es una de las hijas de hades💀, una ninfa🧝‍♀️ para ser más específica y prima de Deos☀️ La verdad aún me cuesta asimiliar q ella es todo magia🌌 y naturaleza🍀⚘ y Gil🤖 es un mecánico🔧⚙ científico🧪, doctor🩺 y padre👨‍👧 (o papasito💪🏾 para las vecinas👁👄👁) son totalmente contrarios☯️ el uno del otro, eso si los dos parecen padres👨‍👩‍👧 cuando se trata de mí... ^^; ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ #drawing #draw #oc ##cartoons #familia #parejas #febrero #enamorados #dibujos #art #fypシ https://www.instagram.com/p/CoFEvQ5O5kO/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#drawing #draw #oc #cartoons #familia #parejas #febrero #enamorados #dibujos #art #fypシ

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fredborges98 · 3 months

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"Não me empunhe sem motivo; não me embainhe sem honra."

"No me saques sin razon; no me envaines sin honor."

"Do not draw me without reason:Do not wield me without honour."

Razão e Honra- A tragédia é humana, a razão é humana, a honra e dignidade são conferidas pela Educação Humanista.

Por: Fred Borges

Razão e Honra !

Crimes de guerra em tempos de paz desonram e tornam indignos os homens.

A Revolução Russa foi uma vergonha para toda a humanidade e a civilização.

Ela desonrou a família,uma família , a família Romanov.

Mas as tragédias são humanas e quer queiramos ou não, são parte do drama em sermos humanos.

Mas felizmente nem todos são comunistas ou socialistas!

Tragédias e dramas podem ser evitados, mas o ser humano nasceu junto com a falha,a falha ou falta de caráter, de honra, equivoco em julgar sem provas ou evidências e o povo julgou, elegeu, sentenciou, fez justiça com as próprias mãos, mentes e corações,empunharam a espada do voto e votaram!

Teriam mesmo?

O povo é facilmente manipulável e manipulado o foi, e sempre será conduzido a acreditar e desacreditar, depende a ele analisar,comparar e criticar discurso e prática.

E dê uma espada a um líder louco ou lideranças

ensandecidas ou encanecidas de um povo adormecido, que ele ou eles irá ou irão sacar sem razão e a empunhará sem honra a espada, por não possuírem nenhum dos dois adjetivos sedimentados, mas sim congelados ou enferrujados em lâminas de espadas de material ou matéria prima sem conteúdo e qualidade, e muito mais, ferreiro ou siderúrgico incompetente,com limitações: mental, emocional,espiritual e física, superaveis, mas convenientemente anestesiadas ou criogenizadas.

Numa espiral, as irmãs Romanov eram complementares, em estética e personalidade, na guerra contra os alemães, serviram como enfermeiras da Cruz Vermelha e viram que a tragédia humana é constituída de corpos e almas mutilados e traumatizadas, e aprenderam o quanto o ser humano é frágil, vulnerável, mas também capaz de superar suas mazelas físicas, emocionais e espirituais pela fé e esperança quando assim o deseja e principalmente acredita.

Fé e esperança em dias melhores foi o que fez elas seguirem.

A Inglaterra pouco ajudou, mais ajudaram em sua filosofia Shakespeariana em querer despretensiosamente ajudar,afinal eles eram parentes, mas no final negou-se o abrigo, o asilo aos Romanov.

Em uma história mitológica, uma lenda conta que a deusa do mar, a ninfa Tétis, era desejada como esposa por Zeus e seu irmão Posidão.

Porém Prometeu profetizou que o filho da deusa seria maior que seu pai.

Então os deuses resolveram dá-la como esposa a Peleu, um mortal já idoso, planejando enfraquecer o filho, que seria apenas um humano, assim nasceu o guerreiro Aquiles.

Sua mãe, visando fortalecer sua natureza mortal, mergulhou-o ainda bebê, nas águas do mitológico rio Estige (rio infernal no Hades).

As águas tornaram-no um ser invulnerável, exceto no calcanhar, por onde a mãe o segurou para o mergulhar no rio (daí a famosa expressão calcanhar de Aquiles, significando ponto vulnerável).

Aquiles tornou-se o mais poderoso dos guerreiros, porém, era mortal.

Mais tarde, sua mãe profetiza que ele poderá escolher entre dois destinos: lutar em Troia e alcançar a glória eterna, mas morrer jovem, ou permanecer em sua terra natal e ter uma longa vida, mas sendo logo esquecido.

Esquecimento é perda da faculdade da memória quando apagada, as luzes, por vez, por certa vez, e o povo é desmemoriado ou lavado cerebralmente para sorte de líderes sem razão ou sem honra.

Em um livro técnico cuja temática é a espada, relata:

Numa espada a guarda é usada para evitar que a mão do usuário deslize em direção à lâmina quando se efetua um ataque, quanto pra proteger a mão do usuário seja atingida por um golpe do oponente.

Uma questão de honra é não aceitar lutar em condição de desequilíbrio, onde uma das partes está fragilizada ou de vulnerabilidade identificada, não há honra em vencer sem dignidade, não há honra em "tomar o poder, independente de vencer ou não eleições"JD, que deveriam ser democráticas!

Não há honra onde há covardia, omissão, corrupção, ou qualquer imoralidade.

A guarda pode ser uma guarda cruzada ou "quillon" (a mais simples e comum); um nó de borla ou uma chapa frontal ou que envolva a mão que esteja empunhando a arma.

Não importa as condições de partida, de origem devem ser iguais ou igualadas ou igualitárias, caso contrário não há e nunca haverá reparação a luta deflagrada, não há e nunca haverá inclusão, já que excluídos já estão incluídos na massa acéfala, de " intelectuais" da escravidão ou a serviço conveniente da "servidão voluntária"!

A empunhadura de uma arma branca, é geralmente constituída de:

Guarda: já descrita.

Punho: parte por onde se segura a arma, uma haste de madeira, osso, metal ou outro material, podendo ou não ser recoberto por couro, cadarços ou pano entrelaçado, emaranhado, enrolados, enrolacações, imbricações, enganações, ilusões " democráticas"!

Pomo: parte saliente que fica no extremo do punho próximo a quem empunha a arma.

Espiga: prolongamento da lâmina que passa por dentro do punho.

Sendo assim, constitui-se e é constituído de grande poder quem poda a liberdade para justificar-se no poder pelo fim de poder!

Corta-se a liberdade aprisionando a Educação, o acesso à informação, a censura, a decapitação dos três poderes que devem, como instituições, nunca se sobressaírem um ao outro, mas em complementaridade e equilíbrio da liberdade, justiça, fraternidade e igualdade cidadã, constituição cidadã de 1988 sendo desonrada, mutilada, sem motivo digno a humanidade pela condenação de " terroristas", um verdadeiro golpe dentro de um " golpe"!

Em outra história:

O Rei Lear dramatiza a história de um velho rei da antiga Grã-Bretanha, cujo plano de dividir seu reino entre suas três filhas termina tragicamente.

Quando ele testa cada um perguntando o quanto ela o ama, as filhas mais velhas, Goneril e Regan, o elogiam.

A mais nova, Cordelia, não o faz, e Lear a rejeita e a expulsa. Ela se casa com o rei da França.

Goneril e Regan se voltam contra Lear, deixando-o vagando loucamente em uma tempestade furiosa.

Enquanto isso, o filho ilegítimo do conde de Gloucester, Edmund, vira Gloucester contra seu filho legítimo, Edgar.

Gloucester, horrorizado com o tratamento dado pelas filhas a Lear, recebe a notícia de que um exército francês está vindo para ajudar Lear.

Edmund trai Gloucester para Regan e seu marido, Cornwall, que arranca os olhos de Gloucester e faz de Edmund o Conde de Gloucester.

Cordelia e o exército francês salvam Lear, mas o exército é derrotado.

Edmund aprisiona Cordelia e Lear.

Edgar então fere Edmund mortalmente em uma prova de combate. Morrendo, Edmundo confessa que ordenou a morte de Cordelia e Lear.

Antes que eles possam ser resgatados, Lear traz o corpo de Cordelia e então ele próprio morre.

A tragédia e o drama são humanos, mas antes vem a mentira, a mentira compulsiva, obsessão pelo poder, o autoritarismo,a censura,o.controle das Redes Sociais pela " regulamentação",a concentração de poder em um dos poderes, que pode ser qualquer poder, desde que seja poder, ele irá se corromper, e poderá ser o poder judiciário.

Naquela época o poder saltitava feito pipoca em panela e óleo quente e foi parar em mãos que não seguem o dito gravado na espada:

"Não me empunhe sem motivo; não me embainhe sem honra." Ou

"No me saques sin razon; no me envaines sin honor".Or

"Do not draw me without reason.Do not wield me without honour."

E resultou em milhões de mortes, não, 7, 11,16 ou 18 mortos, despidos, queimados, mas 100 milhões assassinados pelos COMUNISTAS!!!

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minicoffeeccino · 3 months

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Pokeddexy Day 20: Paradox

Iron Valiant! And the same one from the previous year, too. This was what they actually looked like before the incident with Area Zero, before Ninfa saved their life, and before Ileana decided that they needed another upgrade(to her it was just giving them the pair of sunglasses shown on last year’s drawing lol)

#pokemon #pokeddexy #pkg pokeddexy #pokemon gijinka #iron valiant #paradox pokemon #gen 9 pokemon #artists on tumblr

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graahuxz · 10 months

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Cicada nymph / Ninfa de cigarra

Sketchbook (2017-2020)

WINSOR & NEWTON

Cartridge sketch pad

White drawing cartridge / Papel de dibujo blanco

A4 110g

#cicada nymph #ninfa de cigarra #sketch #boceto #watercolor #acuarela #graphite #grafito #sketchbook #graahuxz

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talesofseriel-official · 10 months

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ENG

Name: Zuekan

Age: 23

Height: 1.65 cm

Race: nymph

Nation of Origin: earth

Gender Identity: cisgender assigned female at birth

Sexuality: heterosexual

Brief Personality Description: Sui's best friend, Zuekan has known Sui for years and is the apprentice to the court mage. They are cheerful and provide excellent support for Sui, trying to help her understand how the world works. Zuekan has many hobbies that shape their entire personality. They love stories and the characters within them, enjoy singers and bards, love singing songs, and writing them. They can also draw, sew, and maintain a garden in the castle where they grow plants for alchemy. They don't possess any combat skills, except perhaps some magical abilities, and that's by choice. They hate violence and categorically refuse to harm others. They joined the rebellion to help heal the sick, wanting to assist others with their whole being because it's what they have been taught is the right thing to do.

ITA

Nome: Zuekan

Età: 23

Altezza: 1,65 cm

Razza: ninfa

Nazione di appartenenza: terra

Identità di genere: cis afab

Sessualità: eterosessuale

Breve descrizione della personalità: La migliore amica di Sui, Zuekan conosce Sui da anni ed è l'apprendista della maga di corte. È allegra, un ottimo supporto per Sui e prova a farle capire come funziona il mondo. Zuekan ha molti hobby su cui basa la sua intera personalità, ama le storie e i personaggi in esse, ama i cantanti e i bardi, ama cantare canzoni e scriverle. Sa anche disegnare, cucire, e nel giardino del castello tiene un orto che usa per l'alchimia. Non conosce nessuna abilità di combattimento però se non forse qualche abilità magica, e sì è per scelta. Odia la violenza e si rifiuta categoricamente di fare del male agli altri. Si è unita alla ribellione per curare le persone malate, vuole aiutare gli altri con tutta sé stessa poiché è ciò che le è stato insegnato sia la cosa giusta da fare.

#oc #original characters #tales of seriel #comic #comics #original project #writing #original fiction #storytelling

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kaiapanito · 5 months

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The earth students are some of the tallest. Here they wear the first version of the uniform. I really like the concept but I need to work more on it.

About the students:

You know Ninfa, the lazy fairy chosen by Virgo. Here she looks younger but she is 14 years old. In her last year of school she became very anxious because she didn't want to leave a place were she could eat three times a day (and sleep 8 hours straight) and search for a job suitable for earth mages (which usually were construction oriented ones).

Oliver is Benne's best friend. He comes from a wealthy family of humans that supports him (which is strange, considering that in Celtenor being a mage is considered almost a sin).

Benne is the chosen one by Capricorn. Unlike Oliver, his mother left him in a religious orphanage because she couldn't face the complications of having a wizard son. He never got adopted so when he went to the Earth School Benne began to find his own path in life.

Vassily is the chosen one by Taurus. He comes from a wealthy family of elves, has two sisters and l likes drawing, painting and everything related to art. Vassily is very calm and kind kid but often feels overwhelmed by things that are out of his control.

You also know Eiko. I love how this drawing of her turned out, so cute! Lately I've been thinking of giving her some strikes of color at her hair.

#EthernalWip #EW: Ninfa #EW: Oliver #EW: Benne #EW: Vassily #EW: Eiko #Illustration #myart #myocs #character design

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absantos123 · 2 years

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🇺🇸"The Wolf and the Peeira (Or Pieira dos lobos)"...

First of all, the characters are Katsuo and Momoka, and yes, they are a couple.

Peeiras are female fairies or spirits who are protectors of wolves. They inhabit European forests, especially Portuguese forests and legends. They say that a girl can become a peeira when summoned by the howl of her "predestined wolf", or that they would be the seventh daughters of a couple. When a Peeira with the change goes into a pack, it can be said that she can heal from any injury or illness. Most likely, a Peeira is simply a young woman who lives with packs, protects, cares for and even controls them. Peeira is the being destined to serve, or guide the angry creatures and disturbed spirits that are werewolves. She would be like a fountain that would bring peace to the werewolves' troubled spirit, calming the beast and making it reason better. A pack that owns a foot is a powerful pack, as in addition to the gift of calm, it communicates with wolves and werewolves, even healing them. They are described as loving, wild and even living in woods or forests, which can be considered as possible nymphs. Some say that they developed a greater affection for werewolves or wolves, so she started to take care of them, while others say that she is a spirit of a young woman who, with her ghost dogs, seduces men and takes them to the terror of your phantom wolves.

‼️ATTENTION‼️ The characters that appear in the drawing were inspired by characters made by other artists, such as @bnha-bitch @utoooooxs, credits to them!!

🇧🇷"O lobo e a Peeira (ou Pieira dos lobos)"...

Antes de tudo, os personagens no desenho são o Katsuo e a Momoka, e sim, eles são um casal.

As Peeiras são fadas ou espíritos do sexo feminino que são protetoras dos lobos. Habitam as florestas europeias, em especial as florestas e lendas portuguesas. Dizem que uma moça pode se tornar uma peeira ao ser convocada pelo uivo de seu "lobo predestinado", ou então que seriam as sétimas filhas dum casal. Quando uma Peeira com a mudança vai para uma alcateia, pode-se dizer que pode se curar de qualquer ferimento ou doença. O mais provável é que uma Peeira seja simplesmente uma jovem que convive com alcateias, as protege, cuida e até mesmo as controla. Peeira é o ser destinado a servir, ou orientar as criaturas raivosas e de espíritos perturbados que são os lobisomens. Ela seria como uma fonte que traria paz ao espírito perturbado dos lobisomens, acalmando a fera e fazendo-a raciocinar melhor. Uma alcateia que possuir uma peeira é uma alcateia poderosa, pois além do dom de calma ela comunica com os lobos e lobisomens, até mesmo de curá-los. São descritas como amáveis, selvagens e que até mesmo morem em bosques ou florestas, o que pode considerá-las como possíveis Ninfas. Uns dizem, que elas desenvolveram um afeto maior por lobisomens ou lobos, assim, passava a cuidar deles, já outros, afirmam que ela é um espírito duma jovem mulher que, com os seus cães-fantasmas, seduz os homens e os leva para o terror dos seus lobos fantasmas.

‼️ATENÇÃO‼️ Os personagens que aparecem no desenho foram inspirados em personagens feitos por outros artistas, como @bnha-bitch e @utoooooxs, créditos a eles!!

🇪🇸 "El lobo y el Peeira (o Pieira dos lobos)"...

En primer lugar, los personajes de la caricatura son Katsuo y Momoka, y sí, son una pareja.

Las peeiras son hadas o espíritus femeninos que son protectores de los lobos. Habitan bosques europeos, especialmente bosques portugueses y leyendas. Dicen que una niña puede convertirse en peeira cuando es convocada por el aullido de su "lobo predestinado", o que serían las séptimas hijas de una pareja. Cuando una Peeira con el cambio entra en una manada, se puede decir que puede curarse de cualquier lesión o enfermedad. Lo más probable es que una Peeira sea simplemente una niña que vive con manadas, las protege, las cuida e incluso las controla. Peeira es el ser destinado a servir o guiar a las criaturas enojadas y los espíritus trastornados que son los hombres lobo. Ella sería como una fuente que traería paz al espíritu atribulado de los hombres lobo, calmando a la bestia y haciéndola razonar mejor. Una manada que posee un pie es una manada poderosa, ya que además del don de la calma, se comunica con lobos y hombres lobo, incluso curándolos. Se las describe como cariñosas, salvajes e incluso viviendo en bosques o selvas, por lo que se las puede considerar como posibles ninfas. Algunos dicen que desarrollaron un mayor cariño por los hombres lobo o lobos, por lo que ella comenzó a cuidarlos, mientras que otros dicen que es un espíritu de una joven que, con sus perros fantasmas, seduce a los hombres y los lleva al terror de tus lobos fantasmas.

‼️ATENCIÓN‼️ Los personajes que aparecen en el dibujo fueron inspirados en personajes hechos por otros artistas, como @bnha-bitch y @utoooooxs, créditos a ellos!!

#Peeira #Pieira dos lobos #Momoka #Katsuo #Lenda portuguesa #Portuguese legend #Piera #Lobisomem #Werewolf #Wolfman #Hombre-lobo #fypage #for you #werwolf #werwolves #wolf #fanart

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acodexofourtime · 1 year

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Be My Demitasse

“Life emerged from the sea, and after a time, it found its way back to it,” thought Doctor Orfeo as he poured himself a cup of coffee from a small aluminum pot. There he sat at a café overlooking the lower reaches of Santa Ninfa, each building drained of joy as much as the next. He watched as his little golden spoon dove into the crests of white crema that swirled over the surface of his dark coffee, and set the spoon aside to take a sip.

It had already been a year since he last saw his counterpart from the deep ocean, Doctor Ione, having promised each other they would focus on their respective work. He could almost see the errant strands of seaweed woven into her hair. Her skin was the color of rich dark sand, the depths of which could contain an entire universe of life and the fossils of waves yet to come.

Not long after he received a note from Don Benedetto’s servant on that day, saying farewell to his guardian cloves of spectral garlic hung just inside the entryway to his room, he left Santa Ninfa’s spider web of narrow streets, snaking his way to the villa set upon the bluff overlooking the city, passing by no shortage of ossified birds, lizards, and perhaps the outstretched effigies of people that were melded to the walls of the tufa that formed the Don’s Citadel, after centuries of volcanic eruptions peppered its ancient gates with their still forms.

The Doctor was led into Don Benedetto’s grounds by a sleepless henchwoman with a long braid that would whip to and fro like a metronome with every step, a detail which Doctor Orfeo did not miss, leaving him with a surprised smile as he tried to turn his attentions to the square-planed formal gardens leading up to the front double doors of the seashell white villa.

Inside, thick tapestries suffused the walls of all light, and mustard and walnut colored floor tiles echoed back each step as they made their way up a grand staircase into the Don’s chamber.

The Don himself was small, suffused with a crackling crimson mist, his features sallow and half hidden by pleated indigo sheets. A forking mustache told the time in shadows upon the sides of his mouth, and his brows was creased with perspiration, which the Doctor noted as a side effect of anxiety more than a symptom of illness.

The Doctor, drawing out a small vacuum tube from his black and silver bag, began by asking the Don, “ How do you do, Don Benedetto. I already know why you summoned me. I see your condition and know what to do to treat it. I just wrote a paper on it, in fact.”

The Don grunted in reply, “I am not given to grand statements here. Name your price, and it’s yours. Just help me. No one else can.”

Doctor Orfeo paused, looking at the Don square in the eye as the Don’s henchperson stood in the back, wringing her hands about a jointed lead pipe. “Money is one thing, but there’s a mine that you own outside the city, Don Benedetto. I have seen to it that many of the miners are becoming immaterial - their essence is no longer of this time, or the next. They have given their past to you, and they have no future to speak of. I think the profit of that mine has declined to the point that it’s what we can call, ‘a well that has run dry.’ Give that mine to them, and let them pay you dividends. You’ll see what they make of it in turn.”

The Don’s eyes nearly bugged out. “My mine? You’re fucking nuts, with all due respect, Doctor Orfeo.”

The doctor popped a small woven cord into the tail end of the glass vacuum tube. His eyes turned calmly back to the Don. “Yes or no, Don Benedetto? I can help you here and now, or you can seek out the help of Doctor Mesmerato from the bottom of the barrel.”

Don Benedetto groaned, “You are a wicked man, Doctor Orfeo, and I will never forget the vice you shoved my head into today. My memory is longer than the pain I’m feeling each time I breathe in this prickly smoke! They have the mine. As soon as I say it, mark my word, it’s done!”

At that, Doctor Orfeo held the vacuum tube up to the troublesome mist, and withdrew a small square black box, depressing a red button. The vacuum tube began to glow with a blue, then red, then yellow light and then, with a loud bang, it suddenly opened by way of a tiny glass hinge at the top of the bulb, sucking up the miasma with a crackling scream, dragging it out of the air and the Don’s very nasal passages. Once the bulb filled up with gas, the little glass hinge sucked itself closed. With that, the Don’s pallor came back and he sat upright in bed as though nothing at all had ever happened.

The Doctor exhaled, “You should be fine now, Don Benedetto. If you’ll excuse me, I have to make my way back to my own affairs. I’ll let you send a message to the mine.”

With that, Doctor Orfeo packed up his things and left both the Don and the Don’s henchperson in the room, where he was led out by a man with a rather crooked nose, the Doctor’s right ear trailing blood.

Now, long after the fact, all that the Doctor had to show for it was this miserable table on a humid day, and the shadow of a sudden visitor before him- a paid messenger with a tiny head wearing the featured Augury wings of the famed Fleet Foot Delivery Service, who extended a telegram his way and fished out payment from the money Doctor Orfeo had set aside to pay the cafe bill.

Doctor Orfeo gave the messenger the stink eye, and opening the telegram, was confronted with a statement written in a hand he knew well: “BE MY DEMITASSE.”

#the continuing adventures of doctor orfeo

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etherealninfa · 5 months

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More of my Oc "Ninfa" I decided to change her outfit. (Just her top) and I decided to change a little the way I usually draw her to try to make her look more like the Inspector Gadget 1983 series style.

#oc x canon #oc x cannon #oc #oc art #oc artwork #original character #my oc art #my ocs #my oc character #my ocs <3 #oc insert #oc drawing #oc design #digital drawing #digital art #inspector gadget 1983 #inspector gadget

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