PHAGOCYTES EAT COCCI
I think opera ghost is a pretty cool guy, eh punjabs intrudars and doesn’t afraid of anything
Erik was dressed like a god and wore a mask that had been specially fashioned for the occasion out of beaten gold. He snapped his fingers once and the stone lid of the coffin fell to the floor of its own accord with a deafening thud that made everyone jump. When silence descended once more, he held out one hand and beckoned toward the sarcophagus with a gesture of awesome authority that left everyone holding his breath. I had enough French now to translate the words that he began to weave into soft, enticing song.
Come forth from your dark sleep.
Come to the Angel of Doom,
And show the living the fate which awaits…
As the last note died, there was an answering shriek from the coffin, a horrible, heart-stopping wail that chilled us all to the bone. And then, with a faint, eerie rattle, I saw the Kazan skeleton rise slowly into the air and come to rest, erect and unsupported, beside its master.
My gasp was lost among the communal intake of breath as Erik took the skeleton by the hand and led it toward the place where the new prime minister stood. I saw the man tremble visibly as the terrible apparition approached, and the shah himself leaned forward in his chair, his face a little paler than normal as he watched intently.
The bony visitor from the tomb raised an accusing finger at the grand vazir; there was a tense heartbeat of silence and then, as Erik clapped his hands abruptly, the skeleton collapsed to the floor in a mass of inanimate jumbled bones.
Swooping forward, like some golden bird of prey, Erik retrieved the skull and from its jaw withdrew the prime minister’s signet ring, tossing it at the feet of the stupefied man with a gesture of contempt.
“I trust Your Excellency’s son will prove less careless with his secondhand possessions,” he said pointedly.
There was a moment of stunned silence, all the court staring at the young shah to see whether they dared to show approval at an astonishing trick so blatantly colored with dangerous political overtones. The moment could not have lasted for more than a second or two, but it seemed like all eternity before the shah leaned forward to toss a large drawstring purse to Erik.
Immediately the court burst into thunderous applause.
Susan Kay “The Phantom” (via wewilloncemorebewhole)
- If I could ever see Erik perform live
- the minute he took his mask off to sing
- this would be me.
ROCK ON FREAKY BRO…WHOO!!! YEAH!! \M/O__O\M/
Phantom Artwork I have done so far (and one I’m working on)
In order of creation.
All of these and a ton more of non-Phantom related artwork can be found at my gallery, kilderok.deviantart.com
Had to do this to keep track of all I have done and am DOING. That and a nice person notified me that practically NONE of the phandom has seen my artwork, so there’s that.
Hope you all like it, I put an assload of thought and time into all of it.
Also: tell me whatcha think about my work in progress. That one is taking longer than it should due to a crippling bout of depression. Been asleep for most of the past three days…so, apologies.
EDIT: Whoops…thats supposed to be “kilderok.deviantart.com” on that WIP…sorry, I’m barely thinking straight..
O__O JUST HAD A THOUGHT…
Remember in Kay’s Phantom when Erik sees himself for the first time?
He was five.
Remember that old superstition that breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck?
We all know he broke the shit out of that mirror.
What happened afterwards?
Things started getting really bad for little Erik.
How long until shit started getting a LITTLE better for him?
Wasn’t until seven years later that he met Giovanni.
I WONDER IF THAT WAS INTENTIONAL? HMMMMMM…..
A timeline built directly from deviantart’s best work.
Not to be a shameless self promoter
but you forgot mine
A drawing that is taking forever because my tablet keeps fucking up…
Erik…crying. Poor guy.
In His Eyes, All the Sadness of the World Chapter 5
He kisses me.
Erik’s deformed lips press against mine, and I’m surprised at the warm touch. His hands are always so cold I would have thought his lips would share that quality. His arm wraps around me, and although his grasp is rough and abrupt, I feel myself relaxing. Is this what I’ve been waiting for all this time? Without really thinking about it, I bring one hand up to his cheek and
The Lost Daguerrotype-Colored by ~kilderok
Colorized and detailed (bonus!) version of the daguerreotype-type painting I did of Erik most recently.
Applicable to every situation ever.
The potty mouth is Erik’s, not ours ;)
Said at least once daily
Erik—-The Lost Daguerrotype by ~kilderok
EDIT: Do full-view. You’ll like full-view. >=} Also! Tell me in the comments if you would like me to do a colored version of this, like how they colored old photographs back in the day. M’k??
…so I did this photo-realistic painting of Erik. Does it give YOU stomach pangs? It gives me stomach pangs.
I think I’ve sufficiently outdone myself with this yes. This ISN’T a photomanip: I painted this bitch by HAND. Well, tablet but you get the idea.
I’ve only ever done two other photo-realistic drawings/paintings before, and they were given no where NEAR as much love as this was given. I wanted to do a painting, that would look like a very old photo, of a guy we don’t even have a picture of.
Did I do it?
The idea behind this was: “What if Erik allowed himself at any one point to be photographed?”
I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have, but what IF? This is the result.
I imagine him being coerced into sitting for a nice, understanding and intrigued daguerrotypist (technical term for someone who does daguerrotypes…?) only to change his mind after seeing the resulting photo, killing the guy and stealing of with it afterwards.
So…does it convince your brain too that you’re looking at a photo and not a painting? I have this set as my desktop background and I’ve been avoiding windowing out because his eyes grab mine and I end up feeling eerily like someone is actually staring back at me. >=}
I SWEAR TO GOD late last night, I hallucinated while working on this and SWEAR that this fucker BLINKED AT ME.
Final note: I DID use old daguerrotypes as reference to get the general quality of one down, I spent around a week or so OBSESSING over this painting, studying every little fine detail about a daguerrotype that I could, in order to produce the most realistic picture possible. I wanted his expression to be pained, slightly angry and wanted his posture to indicate that he REALLY DID NOT WANT TO STAY A MOMENT LONGER, but at the same time he was restraining himself from bolting.
Hope you guys appreciate it. -wipes blood out of eyes-
To Find Meaning… by ~kilderok
My fourth picture of Erik.
I went for a sort of Symbolism piece here, and left it with a relatively simply background, so as to draw the viewer to the objects/person within the image. Each thing included around Erik’s kneeling figure symbolizes something, and pertains to something in his life.
I KIND of want to see what YOU GUYS think each object in the image represents…but I’m too proud of myself for putting this all together so…here is the breakdown:
The butterfly represents two kinds of metamorphosis: The kind which Erik so desperately yearns for, to become something acceptable and beautiful in the eyes of others, and the OTHER kind of metamorphosis it represents is the changes each new experience and thought brings him throughout his life. Personality metamorphosis.
The Poppy flowers growing up from behind his coat represent his addiction to opiates, and how it grew and grew until eventually it flowered into a full-blown morphine addiction.
The Punjab Lasso around his figure at his feet represents the dark nature that he was more or less forced to have; if not for society and the completely shitty way people treated him because of his face, he probably would’ve never killed anyone. At his feet, he always picks it back up, even after he thinks he’s done with it, for it coils around him like a snake, imprisoning him to a darker fate.
Finally, the blood sprayed across the mask and spattering into the darkness from the tip of his lasso represents the staining of his soul, thrusting him further and further into an ever darkening abyss of sin.
On top of that, the color scheme was intentional as well: The green haze around him represents intelligence and envy. Which he had ridiculous amounts of both. The blood, being red, also represents passion and anger. The little yellow butterfly represents happiness, and like butterflies—-any happiness in Erik’s life is fleeting, and flutters away almost as quickly as it came.
The whole image, I think…says: “Why can’t I be like this butterfly? Happy and beautiful and free…?”
…So….whatcha think? As usual, input is MUCH appreciated.
WORK IN PROGRESS
Came up with this image in my head last night while trying to sleep. SYMBOLISMMMM!!!!
Line art isn’t even NEAR finished as I have a lot to detail and corrections here and there but…I’M PSYCHED! There will be minimal background detail, so as to draw the eye to the objects/person/butterfly in the image.
Can YOU guess what each item in the picture represents…? Oh yeah, and there will also be a trail of blood trickling across the ground from the Punjab Lasso, and speckles of blood on the mask. And, those will be poppy plants when all is finished. ALSO ALSO: Not full size. You have to wait for that.
I SHOULD’VE DRAWN PHANTOM ART YEARS AGO WHY DID I WAIT THIS LONG
I’m on fucking FIRE guys.
This pic is happening WAY faster than all previous ones I’ve drawn since I started doing nothing but digital.
DUDE. OKAY SO…I’VE GOT LIGHT FIXTURES TO DRAW, AND PATTERNS TO PLACE, AND TEXTURES TO LAY…IT’S GONNA BE GREAT
Plus, lighten some areas up (Poor sacha is cloaked in shadow) oh and LAY SOME FALLING SHADOWS SINCE YEAH LIGHT FIXTURES, and….EEEE.
Should I add some text? I was thinking of doing this like a comic panel so that people know it’s the infamous birthday scene, and not just Erik randomly toying with Mlle. Perrault. Or does the image already have enough context to communicate what scene it is? What do YOU say guys? Ayudame!
HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO A KID!?!??!!? ALJSHGDFDJHAGKSJDFHKDJHAGDKFJHG
My most spoken phrase while reading Susan Kay’s “Phantom”
The Tumblr you glare at is that of H.E Sharps: Artist, Biology geek, Slave, Musician, Vagabond, Vigilante.
Phagocytes Eat Cocci. Down with Lymphocytie. Boardwalk Empire fan, The Walking Dead fan, Metal-head with a heart of plush.