Bovine - Tumblr Posts

Gift art for other Anathema arpg players of their characters. Draw the character aboves/scribbleswaps and artfight attacks.

https://toyhou.se/13625310.raban/13625323.anathema who belongs to @friendofbones

https://toyhou.se/2991507.manaia/14622648.anathema

https://toyhou.se/12118869.dan/26804562.anathema who belongs to @doxiedreg

https://toyhou.se/19689173.aristedes/19689183.anathema who belongs to @hymyarts

https://toyhou.se/10256639.ioeth/10308724.anathema who belongs to @apeldille

https://toyhou.se/17943091.brynn/23874416.anathema

https://toyhou.se/12686224.n-agathias/12686228.anathema who belongs also to @apeldille

https://toyhou.se/23973588.aquilo/24049429.anathema who belongs to @taeti

https://toyhou.se/6250388.ramman/21101948.anathema

https://toyhou.se/2922332.jezabelle/9432515.anathema

I don't know any other Tumblr accounts for all y'all so feel free to tell me if you own of these characters listed and I'll tag you.

Marian with his stage presence

Didn’t Mean It

Of course, you didn’t mean for it to happen. Oh, yes, I understand you. Are you surprised? Well, you needn’t be so excited over it. Yes, yes, I know, I know. Calm down now, won’t you? You’re not doing yourself any favors by getting so excited. It’ll be harder to communicate, if you don’t relax.

There, now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? And now I can understand you again. Put yourself in quite a pickle, didn’t you? Just look at this mess. What are you, an animal? Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Don’t you snort at me, mister! This is your own fault. It always happens this way. *Sigh*

You were looking for a quick fix, right? Maybe a way to get back at a bully, get even with a coworker, show some egotistic jerk what it feels like from the other perspective? Or maybe you just wanted strength for the sake of strength. People always have their reasons, and they always think they’re good enough to let them do as they please without paying the price.

So, you found the ring, right? Probably some random place. Maybe it was sitting on the kitchen table, or maybe you found it when you were skinny-dipping with your friends. Or perhaps you found it in the pasture? Judging by how you’re looking away, I’m guessing I got it right on one of those. There’s no need to be shy about it. After all, it gave you what you wanted, right? You got your strength, and then some. You must have been so excited when you figured it out.

So what happened? Did you wear it to bed, and wish for the strength, or was it merely that you chose to wear it to work one day, just to make your coworkers jealous, maybe to get them to stop teasing you about a lack of a girlfriend? Well, I’m sure you don’t have to worry about that now. You have your pick of them, after all, don’t you?

Let me guess what happened. You woke up the next morning feeling amazing, am I right? You were positive, happy, productive. Probably managed to get a fair share of your work load done, instead of lagging so far behind. You were by no means a titan, of course, but it got you what you needed, and you started to enjoy your work, despite the jibes from your coworkers.

That night, you probably had a dream of some kind. This type of magic usually uses those types of things, you know, gets you accustomed to the changes that will be coming later. So what was it, then? Dreamt about pulling some sort of load? Maybe carrying a heavy beam on your shoulders? Perhaps you stacked your bales and boxes effortlessly into place, balancing hundreds of pounds on either shoulder. Whatever the case may have been, you certainly must have dreamt about your strength that night. You wanted more. Considering where you are now, that’s fairly obvious.

Over the next week or so, your strength increased steadily, and your body began to put on mass. It was small at first, naturally. It must have been. Didn’t want it to be too obvious. The magic knows how to be subtle when it wants to be, especially if the enchanter deliberately wants the changes to be slow. I’m sure the changes came faster over the next few weeks. You grew taller, broader, heartier. Your strength and stature grew to such an extent as to rival your fellows, and that unnerved them. What had once been an idle game to pass the time and lord their superiority over you had now become an earnest bid to hold back the budding competition. Isn’t it curious how much like animals humans can be sometimes?

Perhaps it was a girl you managed to snag. Maybe it was your former tormentors trying to belittle you mentally, rather than physically. Whatever the case may be, the boon granted by the magic was not enough to content you. You had the strength to rival your fellows; surpass them, even. Your biceps and triceps had swollen with power. Your legs had become thick and stocky to support the heavy loads you laid on your back or your shoulders. You could cart water barrels with ease, and heave hay bales with the best of them. You had become so strong that you could even endure longer than your fellows in the heat of the day with just a few sips of water, and a light meal. But you still felt smaller on the inside when they insulted your manhood, didn’t you?

I can see by your reaction that I am right. What did they do, pull down your pants, and mock you in public, or was it merely that the woman with whom you sought to lie fled after seeing the goods, so to speak? Now don’t look at me like that. They really are the goods now, you know. Or have you forgotten your current situation in the heat of the moment? Okay, okay, I’ll try to stop with the puns, but I make no promises. Once I get started, I tend to fall into a rut. Now, now, no need to get testy. Like I said before, I can’t understand you when you get riled up. Control yourself.

So, you made another wish, this time desiring to become … what’s the phrase you people use? Well endowed? The ring granted that desire, too, didn’t it? You dreamt of conquests, of escapades, night after night. With the end of every dream session, your manhood expanded. Your voice began to drop. Your trousers grew tighter in all the right places, and the women began to notice. You didn’t even care as you began to grow a beard, or when the hair began to grow on your arms and legs. The women called you handsome, rugged. You wrapped each and every one of them around your little finger, and you began to take pleasure in watching those men’s faces fall at the talk from the women. The girls didn’t even seem to care how you were jumping between them. After all, you were quick to tell them you weren’t looking for a relationship. And, for some reason, they didn’t seem to mind.

Ah, but you’d gotten a taste of what it felt like to dominate now, hadn’t you? You felt the thrill of being the best of the best, pure stock in every sense of the words. The confrontation that followed was inevitable. They jumped you on the way out from the tavern, tried to hurt you, maybe even kill you. I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there, and I haven’t read their memories. However, I can guess how it went. Your senses alerted you. You heard them, smelled them, maybe even felt them. The reek of alcohol on their breath must have been horrible, indeed. You took some heavy blows, but, ultimately, you stood victorious. The rush of that victory must have been great indeed. You must have been on such a high. What happened next, I can only guess, but I would assume that was your tipping point. You warned the men off, told them this was your job, and these were your girls. You told them that you were the boss now, the head of the herd, and you told them– no, you commanded them to fall in line. And they did, didn’t they? They didn’t have any choice. You were given the run of the ranch. And, if the boys were especially good, you’d give them the chance to vent some of their pent up frustration on some female companionship. You must have thought yourself such a great benefactor.

I wonder, how long did it take you, in that power-hungry daze of yours, to realize something might be wrong? Was it the enhanced libido? Hmm. No, not that. I can tell just by looking at you that you reveled in that part of your changes. You’d come to think of your conquests as trophies, your property, to be taken whenever and wherever you desired. The more you exercised your . . . privilege, the more you came to crave the sensations that came with it, and the more your women came to crave you, isn’t that right?

You became more crass, primal. You set the example, and, inevitably, the men you had culled soon followed behind. Those who pleased you began to share in the bounties of your gifts to a lesser degree, until you had set up a proper line of command. They grew heartier, stronger, more virile, while the women became fatter, more buxom. You drank yourselves till your vision blurred, and the world spun around you. When you woke the next days, you didn’t care about the headaches, so long as you had a warm body to take. Why, I bet you hardly even noticed as your tastes shifted from meats to grains and other vegetables. It simply added to your strength and charm. Besides, grains and vegetables are cheap, so why should the owner complain?

I wonder, when did you start deciding who to sleep with by smell? Was it a conscious decision, or did it just creep up on you as your nostrils began to flare out of habit? Oh, I’m certain you must have breathed in the scent of every woman you took for yourself, memorized it. And every time they were near, the moment that scent hit your nose, you felt your need rising again, felt your manhood expand, and you took who you wanted for all she was worth. There was little relationship involved. You wanted something, and the women gave it to you. And, of course, with no real interest in anything other than what you’d gotten so used to receiving, there was no need for words.

Your dreams began to blur with reality next. One moment bled into the other in a never-ending cycle of eating, work, sleeping, dreaming, and taking your women whenever the mood struck you. Come rain or shine, you kept working, and your skin grew thicker. You hardly felt the drops as they fell, or the bites from the flies and other insects that tried to pierce you. From time to time, you and your men would defend your women from outsiders, keep them safe as you tested those prospective men. Some made the cut, and joined your little gang, quickly filing into your rather close-knit little group. Others were driven off through intimidation. It must have felt so good to you.

You did your work, you pressed on, even as your hair grew into a short, thick coat along the rest of your body, and your nose began to press outwards. Your brow thickened as your ears began to point and shift. A weight began to weigh down on your head as your neck and shoulder muscles expanded accordingly, causing you to look down naturally as you interacted with others, not that that bothered you. After all, you were the biggest male there, and you reveled in that fact.

And the women. Ah, those poor girls. They changed, too, didn’t they, because you wanted them to stay with you, to remain yours. They clung to you and your band of men, though I suppose you could hardly be called men by that point, could you? You ate, you drank, you worked, you laid around, and you let yourselves go.

I wonder, when was it that you stopped bathing? Was it when your tail started to grow in? Perhaps when your face began to warp and change to match your behavior. Either way, I’m sure your employer must have raised some concerns, until you brought him in line. You had your run of the fields then. You took care of the ranch for a time, ran the cows on their milking schedules, fed the herds, made sure they knew you were the boss. You kept your men shirtless at that point, didn’t you? After all, they’d just tear through the fabric anyway, with the way their musculature was growing. Your interests trailed away from town, away from the things of men. You didn’t want beer anymore. You didn’t need the usual foods. You had milk, you had your vegetables and feed, and, eventually, you had your cud, didn’t you? No need to worry about the changes happening to the men. After all, they were just following your example. They didn’t look any different from you, now, did they? So why worry about it?

I wonder, when did you finally break out of your primitive stupor to try to stop this from happening? Was it mating season? I bet it was, wasn’t it? By that point in time, mating had become as natural to you as breathing. You were probably so big that you needed a loincloth to satisfy what little sense of decency you had left. So, what happened? Did you catch one of your men going feral?

That look in your eyes say it all.

One of your boys was late to feeding time, weren’t they? Hmm. Yes, I can see it in your memories. Since when could I read your memories? How else do you think I’m communicating with you? I’m in your mind, stupid. Well, somewhat, anyways. The connection got deep enough that I could look, but now you’re clouding it over again. Come on, chin up. Clear out that anxiety. I need to see what happened.

Why? Why, so I can judge you, of course. Silly human. Or should I say silly bull now? Ah, but I digress. Let’s get back to the topic at hand, shall we?

So, you went in search of the wayward member, and you followed his scent. It didn’t take you long to find him. You heard the feral bellows, saw the tattered remnants of the loincloth you’d made him wear. By the time you got there, it was too late, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if the metamorphosis had already completed itself. He was well and truly feral by that point, wasn’t he? I’m sure the cow didn’t mind. If she was in heat, she would welcome a strong male to mate with her. What did that do to you, I wonder? Did it fill you disgust? Did it fill you with fear? Or was there only lust, and a rapidly growing need to sate it?

Hmm. Not feeling so confident in your so-called innocence now, are you? I wonder. Did the ring really whisper to you, or was that just your own primal id making itself known? I can tell you’re starting to wonder yourself. As I said before, you humans can be so very much like animals. It’s quite funny, really.

I’m not surprised at the sudden sense of fear you felt running through your system. Adrenaline pumping, nostrils flaring. I wonder, did you finally look in a mirror then, after all that time, I mean really look? Yes, I see. You saw a rugged, handsome, virile man each time you looked in that mirror, didn’t you? But now you’d seen something that opened your eyes to the truth. I wonder, what was your reaction when you finally realized? Come now, don’t be shy. Let me see it.

Ah, so that’s what happened. I sense the fear, the pain. Ooh, that rage. Yes, now that is a potent energy. You were quite the vessel, weren’t you, keeping that bottled up for so long? No wonder the ring came to you. So, you smashed the mirror with your bare fists. Much to your horror, though, you didn’t take any damage, did you? Ah, yes, there it is. You saw your hands changing. Your skin darkened, thickened, hardened to the point where a little thing like glass shards couldn’t do a thing. The weight on your head increased then, and you felt your horns, truly felt them, for the first time. I wonder, was it a scream or a bellow you let loose at that point? Ah, I see you don’t even know.

And next . . . ah, yes. Of course, you rushed back to the mess hall. But I’m certain it must have well and truly become a proper mess by that point. Your men were licking and snuffling at their bowls, not even deigning to use their hands as they slowly morphed into thick, sturdy hooves before your eyes. They looked at you, and they hardly beat an eyelash. Some few let out a cursory snort or grunt of greeting as their new tails whipped casually behind them. For the first time, you noticed the piles of manure that had been building in the hall, saw the sad and bedraggled state of the room as your men shoved their faces into giant bowls of warm, fresh milk. You watched the light leave their eyes, saw their horns sprout, their small remnants of clothing shredding as they expanded into proper bovines.

They let loose their calls, then, and the ladies soon joined them. I won’t force you to relive those changes. It seems you torture yourself with them enough as it is. And . . . what’s this? Oh, my. You really did like that heifer, didn’t you? You actually felt some remorse for her. Well, at least until the ring had its way with you. She’s not a heifer anymore now, is she? How many calves has she had? I see. You have been in this field awhile, haven’t you? Four calves, you say? And I assume you were the father for each one? But, of course you were. You wouldn’t let any of the others sully her like that. No, it had to be you, didn’t it?

Ah, you were protecting her, you say. Well, I suppose I can believe that to an extent. After all, it’s not like you had many higher reasoning functions by that point in time. And you were the head honcho, so to speak. If she was ready to mate, and she needed it, you would have made sure to give it to her. It is a rather fine line, isn’t it? Hmm, but it must have felt so strange having the ring shift to your nose. And the moment it did, you found yourself feeling so docile, didn’t you? You just got right down on all fours, and let the magic finish its work.

Hmm? No, of course I don’t mind you being in this field. And no, I’m not going to turn you back. You’re all too far gone for that, I’m afraid. I can promise you all a good life, though. I’ll take care of you, let you live free range, give you the food and shelter you require on the colder nights. You won’t even have to worry about being slaughtered. The only thing I ask in return is a steady supply of your mates’ milk, and perhaps permission to use some of your manure from time to time in my farming enterprises.

Hmm? What for? Why, for my new restaurant, of course. That seems a fair trade, wouldn’t you say? Judging by the glowing on your nose ring, I’d say you agree. Don’t worry, you’ll be well taken care of. Though you may feel a slight burning sensation for a moment. Sorry about that. The magic had to brand you, so we could tell you and your herd apart from the originals. The former humans won’t have to worry about slaughter, but the other members in the herd may still face the chopping block, so to speak, when they’re old enough, and not long for this world. But you don’t really care about that now, do you, Big Ben? There’s a good bull. Now why don’t you go ahead and graze with the others? I have some calls to make.

Oh, and welcome to TF Foods Incorporated. It’s really been such a pleasure doing business with you.

Sorry for being so silent recently. My mind has been all over the place with school and thinking about yet a new story… for a game if I ever figure out how to make one lol

I’m super proud of this! I’m kinda sick of my more realistic style and I want to go back to simple and styled things. I’m so proud of this one lil doodle.

I’m absolutely in love with how this picture turned out 🥰 I might actually finally update all my profile pictures, I’m honestly so happy with the new way I’m drawing bovine faces 🥰

Coach Mac didn’t want to believe it when he saw it: the beast of his offensive line, #66, Jerry Matthews shoved a handful of grass into his mouth between plays. Not another one, he thought--and not one of his best guys.

It had gotten so noticeable in the showers that everyone could see it, but nobody wanted to admit it--Jerry’s dick, normal a long swinger, had stumped up over the past month while his balls had swollen, now a big full sack, like they needed to be milked. Coach had hoped they could go a few more games before pulling Jerry, before putting him out to pasture, but to keep playing him without giving him the care he needed would just be cruel.

 Since they’d won, Coach gave the team the day off on Sunday, a rare treat--but he asked Jerry to come down to his office. Jerry shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Coach just stared at him.

 “Something wrong Coach?” Jerry asked.

 “Nothing’s wrong, Jerry. You’re a goddamned machine, you’re playing like a beast out there. You’re everything I hoped you would be.”

 Jerry couldn’t seem to sit still. Coach had seen this before.

“I know how you feel right now, boy--hate being indoors, don’t you? Just the idea of sitting there in that chair drives you nuts. You want to be out on the field, don’t you?”

 “Yeah,” Jerry agreed. “I wish I were out on the field right now.”

 “Well, I’m gonna be truthful with you… I have a little strategy behind my winning team. I’ve been feeding you guys some cutting-edge science--developed from bovine growth hormones, completely undetectable--that’s turned you from the elite athlete you were when you showed up here into the absolute powerhouse mammoth of a man you’ve become.” Jerry looked down at himself like he was only now becoming aware of his bulk and size. Coach stood up, walked around the table and put a hand on Jerry’s shoulder.

 “In some people--just a handful with a genetic predisposition--there’s a little side effect. Well, a big side-effect.”

 Jerry still seemed confused. Coach produced an apple from his pocket.

 “You want this, boy?”

Jerry reached for it.

 “No, that’s not how you want it, do you? You don’t want to use your hands.” Jerry didn’t move, but Coach helped him along, holding it up to his mouth. Jerry leaned forward immediately and bit into the apple, chewing it from side to side. He ate the whole thing in three bites, core and all, swallowing it. Then he sat there, blinking and confused, as if the instinct that had taken over him was suddenly gone, and he was wondering why he’d just done that.

 Coach leaned in close, whispering into Jerry’s ear: “I bet you just want to make noise, don’t you boy? You got a great big sound building up inside you and you’re just dying to let it out.”

 “Yes, Coach,” Jerry said.

“Let it out, boy.”

 Jerry seemed to hold back, but then he opened his mouth: “M… Moooo-oooooo-OOOOO!” As the sound escaped from him a weight seemed to be lifted. By the end he was on his feet, sweat pouring down his face with a look of relief.

 “Sorry about this, boy, I really am,” Coach said, jabbing a needle into Jerry’s thigh. The huge lineman suddenly went limp, and Coach opened his door as the team’s doctor and his assistants came to deal with the massive college student.

 Weeks later, Coach went to visit Jerry on the form. He’d developed horns, his whole body covered in fur, his dick replaced by a big full udder. At the rehabilitation farm, all the patients were required to wear bells, and as Jerry ambled around, the bell softly tinkled with every movement. His spine and hips had begun to realign, and while he still walked on two feet, it looked difficult. A long tail swished behind him. “Looking good boy!” Coach said.

 Jerry mooed in response. His face contorted--it was still mostly human despite the horns and the covering of stiff hair--as if there was something he wanted to say but he’d lost the ability to speak.

“Lemme get a good look at you,” Coach said, leading Jerry into the barn. He ran a hand over Jerry’s hide, inspecting every inch. “You are gonna be one hell of a cow!” He reached down and gently poked the udder, swollen with milk. “You need some release, don’t you boy?”

 Jerry mooed desperately as Coach dragged over a pail. Jerry’s moos got quieter, higher-pitched as Coach squeezed squirt after squirt of milk from his uncomfortably full udder. “That’s my boy,” Coach said. “You’re gonna have a great life here, Jerry, and you deserve it after all you did for me on the team. And I’ve got good news for you: that bull who’s been eyeing you up? Well, he used to be your buddy Tim Wilcox--best damned tight end our team ever had! You guys used to be best buddies, remember?” Jerry mooed blissfully, his bell tinkling. “Yeah, you two are gonna be happy together. Real happy.”

2017-May Post #4 (V) - growing guys

🐂🔥🍖‼️

Commission for Kaafan123 (FA)

Aw this is so cute! I love the paintbrush textures you used along with the colours and clouds!

PokéFusion - Cosmog + Miltank ✨🌌

This was another fun week :) I've always seen it depicted blowing fire from it's behind (like the picture from the Aberdeen Bestiary, but sometimes a bit more scatalogical, but the description implies more that it the noxious gasses from its belly creeping along the ground and slowly setting things alight... (I very much appreciate that second bestiary picture - noone looks happy!)

Bestiaryposting Results: Bawigrat

This one is kind of odd in general, but also notable in that it's a mythical creature that has not, to my knowledge, made its way into modern pop culture, but is kind of on one of the upper levels of the metaphorical iceberg for people interested in Medieval Bestiary Trivia just because of its... rather memorable ability. So let's get into it.

If you don't know what this is about, you can check out https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting for an explanation and previous installments.

The art you are about to see is all based on this entry here:

And if you want to get in on this, the current entry up for interpretation is here:

(bit of a long one there)

And without further ado, art for this week is below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has given us a sort of bovine with recognizably skunk-like features. They note that they focused on giving it an appropriate pose (more details in the linked post), which I think they pulled off well -- I would absolutely believe that this creature is about to fire dung at the viewer.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has a shaggier bovid here, with a notably calm expression. The peace of mind that comes from knowing you have a terrifying defense mechanism? Also we see that the emphasis here is on the fiery nature of their dung-based defense, as shown by the flames at the back there. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has done a bit of malicious compliance here. Yes, it has the head and size of a bull, the maned neck of a horse, sure, but otherwise this is clearly a giant bombardier beetle. You know what, that's fair. I like it. I also appreciate that it is, to quote Coolest-Capybara, "seen here incinerating some Stylized Plants." (And thank you for including alt text.)

@pomrania (link to post here) has a bull/horse hybrid thing for us, but notes particularly the distended belly, saying that they figure that whatever kind of internal chemistry is going on here might have externally-visible effects. They also question the "acres" thing, as it seems to imply "a creature which can basically do sniper-range attacks with its poop".

I am thrilled to tell you that it's even worse than that. The phrasing of this entry aside, an acre is technically not a measure of distance, but of area. And this isn't a modern contrivance, it's always been area: the definition of "acre" that our medieval writers would be familiar with is "the amount of land that a man can expect to plow in a single day with the help of oxen". Three acres is, according to a quick conversion on Google, 130,680 square feet / 12,140.6 square meters). So it's not a sniper-like attack, it's blanketing an entire city block (or most of one, depending on your city) in burning fumes & poop.

Implications for the fertilizer industry are, I assume, still under investigation.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently decided to roll with the "three acres" thing and has drawn their Bawigrat... um.. burninating the countryside. Which is very funny to me, as a person of a certain age who grew up on the Internet, but the rest of y'all will have to Google it. Reasons for domesticating the Bawigrat may expand from agricultural to military, though that does seem like a dangerous proposition. (And thank you for including alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) also decided to go with a bombardier beetle, as the animal with the most similar defense mechanism in real life. (This one is also giant; note the banana for scale.) They've made it more unambiguously insectoid, as the "horns" are clearly antennae and the "mane" is a sort of ridged plate. I really like the stylization here and the inclusion of the alchemical symbol. For more information, and a video that shows off the glittery ink used here, check the linked post. (Also thank you for including alt text.)

On to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Yep, that beast is sure farting fire onto some knights. If you look for other medieval images of it, this is a pretty common way to show its defense mechanism. I think my favorite is this one:

(Bibliothèque Nationale de France, lat. 3630, folio 78r)

Tell me that doesn't look exactly like the face a creature with weaponized flatulence would make.

Anyway, this is the bonnacon.

As mentioned previously, this is a mythical beast that for obvious reasons failed to really catch on in modern pop culture, but remains a favorite in Bestiary Trivia -- any Internet listicle about obscure mythical creatures is almost certain to mention the bonnacon.

Beyond that, I really don't have much to add other than reiterating that I think it would be pretty funny to include attempts to domesticate the bonnacon in your fantasy worldbuilding.

Gay little cows for gay month

Bovine Request SFW and NSFW version

"Schau dich an! Was ist nur aus dir geworden? Hast du auch alles brav in dich hineingefressen? Willst du dich auf Raten nun selbst ermorden, Um die magren Jahre endlich zu vergessen?

Selbst völlig nackt Fühlst du dich falsch angezogen, Zu schwer bepackt Und irgendwie, als wärest du auf Drogen."

Inspired by ASPs "Panzerhaus", I made this digital painting of my original character, a sheep caprisces (species by my girlfriend) 'Korpus'. He's quite often featured in my more melancholic, tragic & duller works as his backstory is tainted by many things he's not fully responsible for.

This is a slightly older piece, yet I'm still in love with it, bumps and mistaked considered.

sundowns martyr

Another digital drawing featuring Korpus. I told ya, he's often enough featured in my duller and color deprived artworks. The background was created with a blurred photograph of a lake and the forest I found on Google the other day. Since I loved the color aesthetic I used the image to create this rather... bland background which started to fit even more with the character in the foreground. The posing and lightning felt quite fitting for Korpus.