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Description

The hauntingly dark, billowing clouds sprawled from one edge of the Emptiness to the other. They towered into the atmosphere, growing ever slowly over the over the still, silent city. Their iron glare pressed across the landscape, the air heavy and sharp. While the gathering storm seemed menacing, its overall appearance was rather misleading. From the steel gray clouds came gentle curtains of rain. A slight breeze brought the precipitation through the city, drumming merrily against the untouched rubble. The sweet, fat drops quenched the soil below, stirring the hidden, unknown life therein. Far above, however, the rainstorm stood under calm observation.

A lone figure stood atop a wooden platform attached to the crumbling top of the tallest chimney. The rest of the stitchpunk clan remained in the home below, tucked away from the spring downpour and most likely still asleep. However, their newest member stood by himself in the unfinished watchtower. He held back the heavy curtain covering the platform, standing underneath a wooden overhang. He quite enjoyed being a part of this particular project, finally getting a chance to really use his hands and show them what he could do. But all work had been put on hold while these late spring storms moved into the area.

However, in that moment, the young stitchpunk didn't mind one bit. Ever since the souls of his now-returned friends sent small, gentle drops from the sky for the first time in over a decade, 9 found himself quite fond of rainstorms. He could watch the landscape for hours, sheets of silver velvet falling in heavy downpours, or in soft threads. This morning, he'd ventured into the soon-to-be watchtower, quietly watching. His hearing sensors picked up the gentle percussion of the rain as it pattered against the overhang and outer rim of the platform. The soothing noise rapped in an erratic rhythm, but 9 found himself tapping the tips of his fingers against his zipper, putting a tune to the song of the storm.

He suddenly felt a small, solid bump against his hip, and was surprised to see that he was no longer alone in the watchtower.

"And whatever are you up to this morning?" 9's new companion quipped from beside him. The young man couldn't help his grin as he looked upon the lovely woman who'd joined him, her pale figure brushed a dusty gray by the rain falling before them.

"Its a beautiful morning, I figured it'd be nice to get a better view." He replied, a smile in his voice. 7 returned it, sharing a glance of affection before looking back towards the storm. 9, however, did not follow her gaze. His, instead, remained on the female ragdoll by his side. She wore a serene expression, the glass lenses over her eyes reflecting the ever-so-slight shine emanating from the raindrops. She had her hands folded in the small of her back (a stance almost reminiscent of 1), swaying back and forth in time to the drops of water dripping from the edge of the overhang and onto the platform. Her hip tapped against his own, almost in the same rhythm he rapped against his zipper.

9 suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of calm overcome him. But it was a content kind of calm, a sudden happiness. His thoughts wandered as he watched his mate enjoy the rain as well. He found himself thinking about the first rain they saw, after saying a (thankfully brief) goodbye to their friends and watching their magnificent ascent to the Land Beyond. He remembered feeling her entwine her fingers with his own, letting him know he was not alone. And after all those months, after everything they had fought through, here they stood - together in every sense. Together in a moment of peaceful contentment, enjoying a small, quiet moment that seemed almost a celebration of life.

7 then lifted her hand from behind her back, turning her palm to the sky. Small droplets pattered against her hand and fingers, the young woman sighing softly as she felt the blessed cool. The male stitchpunk beside her lifted his hand as well, matching his much-larger palm to hers and smiling crookedly as the raindrops plopped against his hand. He wiggled his fingers at the sensation, rotating his wrist and watching the water run off the back of his hand.

With her own outstretched hand, 7 lay it over 9's, bringing his hand down to her thin, soft lips. She pressed them to the wooden seam across the back, giving another quiet sigh.

Quite suddenly, their tranquil moment was broken by a resounding crackle. It began as a low rumble at first, growing in volume as it rolled across the Emptiness. It finally reached its crescendo as a monstrous explosion of sound, making the very platform beneath their feet shiver. 9's heart leapt at the sudden noise, but he also felt a tight pressure around his fingers as 7 gave a slight jump back. The thunder continued to rumble softly before finally dissolving back into the patter of the rain.

9 have a glance down towards 7, who still held quite tightly to his hand. The young woman's eyes met his, and her expression fell slightly. Her eyes dropped, lips turning into a small frown. Despite their contentment, it still seemed there were always reminders of the wars they fought surrounding them, as often as they've tried to forget. 9's own brow furrowed slightly before placing his hand over his still-hammering heart and giving an exaggerated, "Whew!"

Much to both his relief and delight, 7's lips curved into a smile and parted into a small, light laugh. He joined in before untangling his fingers from hers to instead envelope her slender body in his long, lanky arms. He held her close to his heart, briefly marveling how someone who appeared delicate and fragile was solid and strong. A bit like the rain around them, he mused. The stalwart warrior met his familiar touch with a tender nuzzle against his shoulder. 9 closed his eyes as she settled against him. The faint, but sure beats of her heart thrummed in time to the rain. Another roil of thunder ambled across the sky, nearly sounding like a heartbeat itself. But this time, both ragdolls remained still, except for the male pressing a warm kiss to her shoulder. They remained together in this small, intimate moment of bliss. The rainstorm became a backdrop to their small, but sure, celebration of life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*throws into contest folder, dies*

Damn did that deadline ever sneak up on me.

But y'know I'm actually really proud of this piece for getting it drawn, colored, and written in three days. I've been completely caught up with IRL work (I'm training for the next "phase" of it, and its a lot of information). Plus, putting together more work together for DA! Including yes finally Rare Kind of Happy and Apples to Ashes

i promise this isn't part of the poll this is because of the contest. plus it gave me a great opportunity to practice painting clouds and rain. I hope everyone likes it, and we'll see what happens with the contest!
also word count is 1085 i think the min was 500

Any comment you leave sincerely makes my day. It helps me know my work is liked and appreciated.

Take a look at the contest here!
[CLOSED] Seasonal Contest of Spring
WINNERS
Welcome to the Seasonal Contest of Spring!
Since it's been a while that we had a contest, we deemed it fair to host one again for the 4 seasons of the year.
This Contest will regard Spring! And if you would like to join, read the details below!

RULES
5 entries - Admin's / Mod's vote
Under 3 entries - Mini prizes given
Only 1 entry per person.
You will have to submit your entree to the contest folder in the gallery.
We will accept both traditional AND digital art as well as written works.
You may draw both canon characters / oc's!
The theme is Spring, so draw anything 9 related that you think relates to spring! This could be many things;
- Your oc's wandering through a foggy grove of dead tree's with some vegetation c

UPDATE: I came in 5th, but hey, not bad!!

Art (c) 2019
9 and all characters (c) Shane Acker, Tim Burton, & Timur Bekmambetov

Description

The hauntingly dark, billowing clouds sprawled from one edge of the Emptiness to the other. They towered into the atmosphere, growing ever slowly over the over the still, silent city. Their iron glare pressed across the landscape, the air heavy and sharp. While the gathering storm seemed menacing, its overall appearance was rather misleading. From the steel gray clouds came gentle curtains of rain. A slight breeze brought the precipitation through the city, drumming merrily against the untouched rubble. The sweet, fat drops quenched the soil below, stirring the hidden, unknown life therein. Far above, however, the rainstorm stood under calm observation.

A lone figure stood atop a wooden platform attached to the crumbling top of the tallest chimney. The rest of the stitchpunk clan remained in the home below, tucked away from the spring downpour and most likely still asleep. However, their newest member stood by himself in the unfinished watchtower. He held back the heavy curtain covering the platform, standing underneath a wooden overhang. He quite enjoyed being a part of this particular project, finally getting a chance to really use his hands and show them what he could do. But all work had been put on hold while these late spring storms moved into the area.

However, in that moment, the young stitchpunk didn't mind one bit. Ever since the souls of his now-returned friends sent small, gentle drops from the sky for the first time in over a decade, 9 found himself quite fond of rainstorms. He could watch the landscape for hours, sheets of silver velvet falling in heavy downpours, or in soft threads. This morning, he'd ventured into the soon-to-be watchtower, quietly watching. His hearing sensors picked up the gentle percussion of the rain as it pattered against the overhang and outer rim of the platform. The soothing noise rapped in an erratic rhythm, but 9 found himself tapping the tips of his fingers against his zipper, putting a tune to the song of the storm.

He suddenly felt a small, solid bump against his hip, and was surprised to see that he was no longer alone in the watchtower.

"And whatever are you up to this morning?" 9's new companion quipped from beside him. The young man couldn't help his grin as he looked upon the lovely woman who'd joined him, her pale figure brushed a dusty gray by the rain falling before them.

"Its a beautiful morning, I figured it'd be nice to get a better view." He replied, a smile in his voice. 7 returned it, sharing a glance of affection before looking back towards the storm. 9, however, did not follow her gaze. His, instead, remained on the female ragdoll by his side. She wore a serene expression, the glass lenses over her eyes reflecting the ever-so-slight shine emanating from the raindrops. She had her hands folded in the small of her back (a stance almost reminiscent of 1), swaying back and forth in time to the drops of water dripping from the edge of the overhang and onto the platform. Her hip tapped against his own, almost in the same rhythm he rapped against his zipper.

9 suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of calm overcome him. But it was a content kind of calm, a sudden happiness. His thoughts wandered as he watched his mate enjoy the rain as well. He found himself thinking about the first rain they saw, after saying a (thankfully brief) goodbye to their friends and watching their magnificent ascent to the Land Beyond. He remembered feeling her entwine her fingers with his own, letting him know he was not alone. And after all those months, after everything they had fought through, here they stood - together in every sense. Together in a moment of peaceful contentment, enjoying a small, quiet moment that seemed almost a celebration of life.

7 then lifted her hand from behind her back, turning her palm to the sky. Small droplets pattered against her hand and fingers, the young woman sighing softly as she felt the blessed cool. The male stitchpunk beside her lifted his hand as well, matching his much-larger palm to hers and smiling crookedly as the raindrops plopped against his hand. He wiggled his fingers at the sensation, rotating his wrist and watching the water run off the back of his hand.

With her own outstretched hand, 7 lay it over 9's, bringing his hand down to her thin, soft lips. She pressed them to the wooden seam across the back, giving another quiet sigh.

Quite suddenly, their tranquil moment was broken by a resounding crackle. It began as a low rumble at first, growing in volume as it rolled across the Emptiness. It finally reached its crescendo as a monstrous explosion of sound, making the very platform beneath their feet shiver. 9's heart leapt at the sudden noise, but he also felt a tight pressure around his fingers as 7 gave a slight jump back. The thunder continued to rumble softly before finally dissolving back into the patter of the rain.

9 have a glance down towards 7, who still held quite tightly to his hand. The young woman's eyes met his, and her expression fell slightly. Her eyes dropped, lips turning into a small frown. Despite their contentment, it still seemed there were always reminders of the wars they fought surrounding them, as often as they've tried to forget. 9's own brow furrowed slightly before placing his hand over his still-hammering heart and giving an exaggerated, "Whew!"

Much to both his relief and delight, 7's lips curved into a smile and parted into a small, light laugh. He joined in before untangling his fingers from hers to instead envelope her slender body in his long, lanky arms. He held her close to his heart, briefly marveling how someone who appeared delicate and fragile was solid and strong. A bit like the rain around them, he mused. The stalwart warrior met his familiar touch with a tender nuzzle against his shoulder. 9 closed his eyes as she settled against him. The faint, but sure beats of her heart thrummed in time to the rain. Another roil of thunder ambled across the sky, nearly sounding like a heartbeat itself. But this time, both ragdolls remained still, except for the male pressing a warm kiss to her shoulder. They remained together in this small, intimate moment of bliss. The rainstorm became a backdrop to their small, but sure, celebration of life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*throws into contest folder, dies*

Damn did that deadline ever sneak up on me.

But y'know I'm actually really proud of this piece for getting it drawn, colored, and written in three days. I've been completely caught up with IRL work (I'm training for the next "phase" of it, and its a lot of information). Plus, putting together more work together for DA! Including yes finally Rare Kind of Happy and Apples to Ashes

i promise this isn't part of the poll this is because of the contest. plus it gave me a great opportunity to practice painting clouds and rain. I hope everyone likes it, and we'll see what happens with the contest!
also word count is 1085 i think the min was 500

Any comment you leave sincerely makes my day. It helps me know my work is liked and appreciated.

Take a look at the contest here!
[CLOSED] Seasonal Contest of Spring
WINNERS
Welcome to the Seasonal Contest of Spring!
Since it's been a while that we had a contest, we deemed it fair to host one again for the 4 seasons of the year.
This Contest will regard Spring! And if you would like to join, read the details below!

RULES
5 entries - Admin's / Mod's vote
Under 3 entries - Mini prizes given
Only 1 entry per person.
You will have to submit your entree to the contest folder in the gallery.
We will accept both traditional AND digital art as well as written works.
You may draw both canon characters / oc's!
The theme is Spring, so draw anything 9 related that you think relates to spring! This could be many things;
- Your oc's wandering through a foggy grove of dead tree's with some vegetation c

UPDATE: I came in 5th, but hey, not bad!!

Art (c) 2019
9 and all characters (c) Shane Acker, Tim Burton, & Timur Bekmambetov