sooo it’s 03.17 and my day rythm is so messed up I didn’t manage to sleep. Did some “l’homme qui rit” fanart instead. Let’s see if my scanner will collaborate tonight…
I think he’d stay calm for a bit, because Christine comes before all else, but he wouldn’t really know what to do…
Christine has a nightmare, and starts screaming in her sleep. Erik comes to her room in a sort of calm panic, and just paces the room for a second, and then grabs his violin. He comes back and plays a Swedish lullaby, until Christine is simply murmuring her fathers name in swedish…she cries herself to sleep.
Erik rushes out of the room drops his violin, and collapses upon the floor of his room, crying, shaking, blaming himself for Christine’s pain, and lamenting that he could touch her. He just crouches upon the floor by his coffin, gasping for air, until he can crawl back in his coffin.
Christine peeps through the door later that night, but doesn’t dare enter. She can hear little tiny sobs from the coffin. She leaves the door open a crack, sinks to the floor, and sings, and prays.
WRITING A FANFIC.
IT’S GONNA HAPPEN.
NOBODY GAVE YOU THE RIGHT
who are you even, Victor Hugo reincarnated? how dare you mess with my feels?
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I hope this works.
I’m posting this early so people have time to see it.
We will be starting at 4:30 EST unless somebody requests we wait a few more minutes.
Anybody interested is welcome. We’ll be watching the 2012 remake, not the 1928 silent movie. It’s french with english subtitles.
Come join us!
Oh, highly honored Anon!
Weekly sacrafices to a couple of pagan supreme deieties usually does the trick.
- good drawing paper.
- plain graphite pencils. Mainly HB, 2B, 4B and 8B, but the more, the merrier!
- a kneaded eraser. I can’t reccomend this enough! I love my kneaded eraser ♥
- For coloured pictures; usually colored pencils.
- Sometimes watercolor pencils combined with acrylic paint.
- A good set of brushes whenever paint is involved
- Backround music, yeah!
Lady in blue (Portrait of Ye.M. Martynova). Detail, by Konstantin Somov.
"Christine entered, took off her mask with a weary movement and flung it on the table. She sighed and let her pretty head fall into her two hands. What was she thinking of? Of Raoul? No, for Raoul heard her murmur: "Poor Erik!"