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India ink hand by AnthropomorPhillie
India ink hand
And this is where I discovered I love india ink. And if you wonder why a big part of my hand is "fuzzy" it's because it was a 30min assignment and I had alot of time left when I'd done the linework, so I decided to draw some "details". I don't think it came out too poorly. My thumb is deformed but the rest is pretty good. It's probably also the closest thing you'll get to a self-portrait of me. :devilish:

#Hand #India #Ink #inkdrawing #illustration #schoolassignment #practice #indiaink #anatomy
Leta Story teaser by AnthropomorPhillie
Leta Story teaser
They have not had sex with one-another.
Okay, this is a scene from a story I'm working on featuing characters Elektra and Viktor. If you're wondering about the name, he did start as a Mary Sue (or Marty Stu?) but he's not anymore.
I am still awful at anatomy (and I can't draw expressions at all, just look at him! :XD:) but I think I'm getting somewhere.
I'm still working out a few kinks in the scene, which is why this isn't fully accurate - among other things, his earplugs are not to be seen in the scene itself.
The story as a whole though is set in a not post-apocalyptic future, but in a dystopia set after a massive global recession that has forced our world back to a technological level equivalent of the 1970's, unless of course you're rich. I.E There was no huge and sudden disaster but simply a rapid decline. The story follows Viktor Staubmann, a recently approved Officer of Applied Politics (in essence he's a conniving, manipulative small-scale politician that helps his squad get along with the populace of whatever place they're sent) as he's sent on his exam project - touring with a minor military force lead by the anthropomorphic ice queen Elektra, who has a somewhat embarrissing but potentially fatal psychological condition. What that is I won't reveal just yet.
I will however post a first draft of the scene for your entertainment. :)
I hope you like it and please give me some constructive criticism, both on the picture and the scene draft.
It seemed a bit like music to me as noise grew from the strokes over the mountain and the gales through the trees. A lullaby almost. Despite my persistent complaining through the passed day and my lifetime of tempered rooms and soft beds I liked it. I liked the clarity of the air and the slight bite on my face from the cold, and through closed eyelids, stretched fabrics, storm-swept snow and rolling clouds I knew the stars shone above me. I felt…connected, for lack of a better word.

I knew the landscape from the sound of it. High, peaked mountains with tips that tips barely touched thin clouds beneath a star-wrought skyline. They are laced with pine trees that cling to them like water, thick and verdant in their vales and thinning towards the mountain’s heights. And despite the thirteen member strong team and adjacent tents there was no one here but me.

A sudden sound of ripping metal break my mental illusion and a cold breeze slithers over me. I’d grown weary and I felt heavy to move when I leaned up on my elbows but all haze was washed away when I saw the heavy bulk of the stark naked Complex move in through the opened flap. Time grinds to a halt and I don’t waken till she turns and look me in the eyes. I begin talking, a jumbled mass of what’s, why’s, and any variation there-of coming out of my mouth when she breaks eye-contact with me, move up to my side, and slide the zipper of my sleeping bag down like I wasn’t even there. My meaningless stream of words are cut off when her massive fingers close around my neck and she slams me down against my pillow and lies down against me, her head on my arm and her leg over mine, pinning me in confusion.

When my questions turn into thrashing struggles her balls and claws dig into my neck and I can no longer breathe. I panic and my thrashing become violent as I try my hardest to escape, to hurt her, to make a noise and she lay there like she’s already asleep, though that frown on her face remains.  It doesn’t take long before I start to grow faint and my limbs become like lead weights. Starved of oxygen the realization that all I can do is accept her presence condenses out of the fog, so I let my limbs drop and fall in humiliation. Pain start to grow behind my eyes and I feel like I’m sinking. The rough pads yield and I feel the heated surge of blood spray through my head, and I cough in relief, only to find myself still held down against the foam rubber mattress.

I turn my head and look at her. It. A lengthened feline face that might as well have belonged to a real leopard. Brow furrowed in lines that were turned into valleys by the fur. Thick eyelids covered enormous eyes and the black, thin edges formed two lying S-shaped lines high on either side of her wide nasal bridge. The normally wide black lips pressed together into a hair’s thickness and the cleft in the upper lip was slightly crumpled. The lower half of the face was stretched tight and removed all trace of wrinkles in the fur while the forehead and corners of the eyes formed spiky canyons thanks to the thick hair, giving off an expression of contained fury. I admit it was an unnerving sight that if anything else convinces me to not struggle again.

The hand remained on my neck, still pressing down but allowing me to breathe. The balls beneath the parody of fingers were uncomfortably warm and itched. Snow flakes had stuck to the frame from the outside and now they were melting, sucking the warmth out of me and turning the strands of fur into weak needles. I could feel a heavy lump begin to build in my stomach as blood left my skin and I grew cold.

- You’ll give me hy…

My voice broke when the sandpapery mounds pressured my neck and I could feel panic build as they dug into me. This time they relented as soon as I started struggling for breath and relief prickled my skin when I could breathe again but I could feel a dense, black mass slowly form in my chest. I wanted to hurt it. Tear it up. Sever flesh from flesh, my fingers pulling it apart like spoons through butter and mince it in my constricting fists. My muscles stopped twitching in impatience and my heart began to beat calmer at the pleasing imagery. I became aware a smile was spreading my lips.

- You’re a fucking fraud.

It felt like it screamed in my ear when it said it, annoyance stirring another current of eager malice. I turned to look. It condescended at me with half-open but sharp blue eyes.

- You’ve convinced no one. All of us see the way you look at us and feel how you prod and touch with your clumsy act. Every word out of your mouth is like an eel writhing against our skins. It’s disgusting. And as noticeable.

I didn’t understand what she meant. They’d all been told who I was and knew what I was trained for. There was no need for convincing and I’d never tried shrugging it off. She leaned into my ear and whispered.

- So how the fuck are you going to convince anyone else?

The creature leaned back against my arm. It took me a moment to make sense of what it was saying, what it meant. “You’re completely worthless if you can’t hide what you do.” It smiled. Warmth was pressed out of my stomach by a growing cold lump. I’d let my realization and insecurity show, confirming my ignorance. She’d won.

- You didn’t think as far as the knowledge of what I am putting them on edge?

A weak defense. I felt the shudder in my voice. Play along my training told me while a distant part of my mind was gaining foothold again.

- And you still tried us.

That cold knot and uncertainty, the freezing the melted snow on her body brought remained as a physical manifestation of what she was doing. I was uncomfortable and failed, and in that distant corner I took stock of the situation. They’d realized I’d been- tried to manipulate them. They were threatened by it and I’d become dangerous to them. It meant I hadn’t become a member of the group but an intruder. Elektra was telling me all of this.

- You’re not just a fraud but an idiot. You’re worthless. You drag us down and you will get us killed.

She wanted to crush me. She’d shocked me, and then torn down what unstable hopes I had of exercising my capabilities. She humiliated and destroyed me. She’s assigning me a role. I could act according to that land. I snuffed a kindling of victory inside my head before the idea could form. Let her win.

- You’re wrong.

It came out as a whisper and then I turned my head away from her. Something tasting like bile was roiling right below my collarbones and it ate at my insides. I wanted to hurt her so bad. I struggled to not pursue that idea that stung at the tip of my tongue like a red glimmer of coal. I couldn’t afford to gain any strength now. I could feel a red hot, sadistic heat annealing my neck in the burn mark of a smile of praetorian teeth.

- You see now? You’re nothing but ballast for us. And you’re too heavy to carry till the end.

I blocked her words like seawater against an embankment of sand. Again and again they washed against me, and again and again I pushed more sand to enforce it. Soon it would trickle inside, slowly drowning me. I couldn’t relax, or it would all be over, it felt like. It would surge in and I would be washed away.

I could feel my resolve weakening. My taught facial muscles were exhausted and I felt on the brink of crying when I heard the slow, deep breaths. They grew and I could feel her heated halitosis in my neck. She was asleep but she was here, as malicious and unbearable as a rapist. I almost couldn’t reach back to that train of thought that seemed to glimmer like a diamond through fog. It was there. I could feel it. My careful prodding had set them off, and they would never let me in their fellowship. They were uncomfortable and had seen through my, I thought clever attempts at control. I had been blatant and they locked me out.

I am a common enemy.

There it was. The gentle glimmer turned into a violent, rising sun across the landscape she had bared to me. I knew this land. I could navigate it. The cold in my stomach ceased to exist from the outside in, and muscles stretched my face into a smile. Those clumsy, inexperienced fumbles and pinches I thought were caresses I tried to make myself “one in the gang” with had almost destroyed me, but just as I guessed the explosive Captain had lead me in on the right track even if I hadn’t expected this. I didn’t need to be their friend to make them run, I could do it just as well as an intruder.

Surveying this clear-cut terrain she had illuminated for me I turned back to the Captain. She was sleeping contented, unaware that trying to destroy me she had merely shown me the lay of the land. I was not a friend or the beginning of, but an enemy, and I would act as such. When I woke up I would have a submissive, angered attitude around my conqueror, and drop my act and show them my “true self”.

Thank you Miss’s, for teaching me how to crawl.

#story #anthropomorphic #antagonists #snow #snowleopard #furryanthro #furry #furryfemale #man #underwear #beginner #teaser #novel #feline #muscular #muscle #musclegirl #tent #tsundere #tsunderegirl #woman #humiliation #manipulation #fat #unfit #longhair #blackhair #mountains #scene #storyscene


Real name: Classified by SÄPO.
Artist | Student | Traditional Art
My real name is not Viktoria Rosén. Let's get that out of the way. All the implications of that I leave to you to figure out. All great artists have a stage name or an alter ego or a psuedonym, and that's mine.
I am not a great artist and I don't want to be one either for the very simple reason - artists are no better than orthodox religious people, from the nihilistic Buddhists to the inbred Creationists. I am here to become better at my Craft and document the process along the way as well as make a name for myself, but do not ever delude yourself into thinking I'm an artist. To be clear, I define an artist as someone who does something inteligent and mistakable for original in a creative way for his/her own sake without any kind of pragmatic reason, and since DA hardly has a single person matching that description I figure it's as good a place as any to start. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying there's anything wrong in being an artist, I'm just saying I don't want to be an artist because I find no satisfaction in that thinking.
I am here to develop and hone above all my ability as an illustrator - find my style, learn to work creatively, do it proficiently, which means I want criticism for all my work. What was good, what was bad, how you liked it.
The reason is I am developing the base for a longer series or of novels based in a futuristic Cthulhu cycle exploring themes of independence, religion, personality, power, evil and goodness, all set within a erotic sci-fi/fantasy drama called "Who Durst Defy", and while I am driven I am far from near being able to pull that off. That's the main reason why I want to hone my artistic ability, but more than that I have discovered I have a generally creative mind and feel good when I do creative things such as write or draw and I would rather do that than anything else the average drone's life has to offer. I don't want to do this to make money (I am not that stupid) but I want to get by on it one day.
Most obvious things you'll learn about me is I am a nyctophile, meaning I find alot more comfort in darkness than in light, and I am an anthropomorphile, a faculty term I've invented meaning "a strong, passionate, sexual as well as spiritual desire and/or connection to a entity defineable as more than human" but that does not mean I like Furry. Porn is one thing, a starved woman can't be a picker, but other than that I do not want any connection to Furry as a movement because I do not care for nor follow that style. I draw anthropomorphs, not furry, and there is a difference between the two. Anyone who claims anything different is either living in denial or plain ignorant. Yes, there are similarities, but it's like comparing wolves with those chihuahuas you see in handbags. I've thought a bit about what it is that seperate these two genre's and I think I've come up with a fairly good explanation of the differences between them. Before you read though, let me make it plain I have little against furries as such, I simply want it plain that what I draw isn't furries as such.

1. Furry is a part of Anthropomorphism, not the other way around.

Fred Patten, a historian born in 1940 who have been able to follow the evolution of the genre first-hand, claims it originated at a sci-fi convention in the 1980's, tough furries as we've come to know them has existed since much earlier in the 1900's (take Disney's Robin Hood for example). Anthropomorphism on the other hand is exceedingly much older than any of these examples, and much more diversified. Stories of human-like animals or animals with human minds and reasoning or humans with animalistic features can be found on every continent and in every culture. The Germanic werewolves, the Greek Minotaur, La Belle et la Bête, the Dove of the Old Testament, the Were-lions of Africa, these are just a few of the many.

2. Furries are without exception depicted in a cartoon- or manga style.

By this I mean furry artists generally don't bother with making realistic drawings, they're always stylized, and often in a manner similar to one-another. A common denominator is I have yet to see a furry artist bothering to draw fur, but simply making a field with a few "pointy edges" to give the character a feeling of having fur. If I am unclear as to what I mean with this, the works of Walt Disney, :iconjaynaylor:, Kadath, and :iconkaboozle: ought to clue you in. Now you may point out old depictions of for example werewolves, woodcuts and the like, have a smilar style, to which I say more often than not the entire depiction is given an even fur pattern, and when it's not it's often meant to depict shades, depth, light, et cetera. Another denominator is furries can give human facial expressions no matter how their faces are designed. Of course, animals can do expressions we can interpret as simimilar to our own and it can be argued that furries therefor can do them to, and I could let it slide should it be an expression not unrealistically exaggerated. On a sidenote, furries can pronounce human words and sounds which we know are impossible for animals to replicate with a snout for example.

3. Furries are unimaginative parodies of the entire concept of the borderline between human and animal.
This is probably the most offensive title of the argumentation for where furry ends and anthropomorphism begins but I can explain why it is also very accurate. The Furry fandom is very closed-off if you compare it to the rest of all that anthropomorhism can be. The word "Anthropomorphism" is actually a synonym for "personification" and it applies not just to animals, but everything. Everything not human with human-like features and capabilities is an anthropomorph. Death as a skeleton with a scythe in black robes is a anthropomorph and so is an Easterly wind depicted as a cherub blowing ships across the sea. But for now we'll focus on the animalistic. By "unimaginative" I mean furries are essentially completely human. The one thing seperating a furry and a human is its exotic body. More often than not furries can wear clothes, they can use machines, they have a human society, and they have a human capacity for reasoning and empathy. Anthropomorph's are supposed to be in-between human and animal, and that in itself opens a world of possibilities very rarely utilized in furry. Which brings me to "parody of the concept between human and animal". What I mean by parody is the mocking trivialization of the world of possibility that lie there. "Between human and a human with a nearly human body." It's almost disrespectful. Almost. Anthropomorph's are very rarely not meant to symbolize something, usually that humans are animals in one way or another, which we through-out history have been struggling hard to deny, or put a Devil's stamp on (take the vampire, which is essentially the embodiment of the deadly sins) but it can be so much more and often is.

4. Furries is not taken seriously.

There's a very good reason people mock Furry fandom - it has yet to be depicted in a way that can be taken seriously. You have to admit all in all furry can be split into three undergenre's - porn, childrens TV-series, and minor psuedo-drama's. Furry porn is not taken seriously because it's porn and while porn in itself is often mocked furry can all to easily be interpreted as "beastiality in denial". Kid's TV-series with furries is directed at a very distinct audience - kids. What we like as kids is very rare to like as adults because we are taught to put childish things behind us as we grow older because they're often clashing with reality, which we need to embrace if we are to function in society (we are taught). This I really blaim the most for furries not being taken seriously. Finally, what I mean by "psuedo-drama's" is a general drama that not only isn't very good, but could function just as well with humans as with furries, because all characters are essentially humans with fur. Anthropomorph's aren't taken very seriously either, but it is mocked to a much smaller degree than furries. I think the reason is because everything I have already argumented - anthropomorphic animals are in total percieved as more realistic in depiction as well as mentality and nature.

Of course, this is just a generalization and depictions of furry/anthropomorphism often cross these lines in one way or another. These are just a few rules of thumb that I have written down to help maintain the distinction.
This is who I am, and there's nothing else to say.
"Life has no Point, so we can shape it as we wish."
- Viktoria Rosén
I have been very dead over the summer due to my lack of a scanner. This also had me go with the retarded decision that since I couldn't show any of my work I hardly made anything at all and what I made I mostly don't consider worth showing. That said, now that I have begun a new school and finally got around to finishing two new pieces they will be posted soon. As always I'll want both tips on how to improve as well as what you think of them. I like seeing my work appreciated but I am here to become a better illustrator and I need constructive critique to do so. I'm looking forward to this.

I have returned.
  • Mood: Zeal
  • Listening to: Pile of Butterfly Wings - Sarcophagic
  • Reading: Darkfall - Dean Koontz
  • Watching: Death Note
  • Eating: Kebab
  • Drinking: Coke

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Hefsiular Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Many thanks for the fave :)
AnthropomorPhillie Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
You're welcome.
AimaRose Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  New member Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the favorite and comment, dearie. :heart:
AnthropomorPhillie Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
You are welcome. :)
Trollskog-Studio Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the :+fav: !!!
AnthropomorPhillie Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
You're welcome. :)
ChezTheDemon Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fav! :)
AnthropomorPhillie Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
You're welcome.
Acillus Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2014  New member Student General Artist
Thanks for the :+fav: on The Spider's Wife! :D
AnthropomorPhillie Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
You're welcome. :)
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