been a while since i last posted a drawing time lapse so *hands you this*
been a while since i last posted a drawing time lapse so *hands you this*
Done with the ebooks and have been hearing about how good the audiobook versions are. To buy or not to buy?
Another HtN good find. Would really be nice if this trilogy gets its animated version!
Just read the Soup Scene™️ and had to physically restrain myself from uttering "what the fuck did I just witness" in front of my mother
some ianthe tridentarius sketches plus harrow.... i am currently sleep deprived drawing unhinged women send help
Pyrrha Dve, the woman that Augustine cultivated a smoking habit to impress, the legend, the stone-cold fox, hotter than the very fires of Hell, absolute bombshell, only cavalier that we know of currently with a Lyctor trial named after her:
“My name is Pyrrha Dve,” said the ghost in question. “Commander of the Second House, head of Trentham Special Intelligence, cavalier to a dead Lyctor.”
“She was the most dangerous woman I’d ever met who wasn’t me,” said Pyrrha Dve.
“I have been trapped in the back of a brain for ten thousand years, and my necromancer is dead,” said the other cavalier. “Emotions are difficult right now. I do have a loaded revolver.”
Ianthe and Harrow both had the lonesome responsibility of keeping her House’s appearance intact through fraudulence, but Harrow was adored like the freakin’ Pope of the Tomb. At this point, Harrow just wants to be truly revealed and fully understood - even if only by one single person.
“I have bested my father and my grandmother—every single necromancer ever taught by my House—every necromancer who has ever touched a skeleton. Did you see me? Did you behold me, Griddle?” (GtN)
[She was beyond pity, beyond the tenderness of a member of her congregation rendering her down into a neglected child.] But there was a part of her soul that wanted to hear it—wanted to hear it from Ortus’s lips more, even, than from the lips of God. He had been there. He had witnessed. (HtN)
As opposed to Harrow’s revered accolades, Ianthe was overshadowed by her charismatic sister and so she wants ultimate power and posters of her face. Ianthe wants to finally be valued aside from accessorizing someone else with a regretful service only she can provide.
Then the author throws these dynamics at each other like the same sides of two magnets:
If Ianthe Tridentarius knelt beside you then, no matter with what sugary contempt or filigreed Third condescension, you would press your diminished bloody terror into her; you would creep naked into her lap, shamelessly, and weep.
“Wow! Not how I imagined this happening, at all,” and you heard her hasty footsteps retreat, away, back down the corridor whence she came.
The baby lyctors make me so sad.
my blog is now only locked tomb content. i would say sorry, but instead i will urge you all to read these fucking amazing books. it’s swords and necromancy and lesbians in space; what more could you want???