#irestorm

Bunch o art from like, 2 years ago that I forgot existed.

Ive been feeling pretty incompetent lately artwise. I miss the interest i used to have. But looking at this stuff just reminds me of what ive already done. Its not a skill issue, its an inspiration/mood issue.

(A little character experiment inspired by the story of Ares and Venus. This is a mirror universe of sorts I suppose, with the "flipped" version of Irestorm being named Eri. T'zoria is also flipped but I haven't thought about renaming him yet. Let me know what you think and if you'd like more! It helps so much to get feedback!)

The moments before Eri met the Emperor were a haze of red, stench and howling; of hot breath dissolving into cold air as the fires of a beautifully hellish battle blew out with the soul of her last opponent. The figurehead of the empire had never interested her before, so few men did what with their catty ways. The emperor was supposed to be the prime example of masculinity and leadership: a straight posture and stoically calm and gentle face; clean, pristine fashion brimming with intentional rhetoric; controlled, calculated movements and expressions. So soft and sensitive, men, she ignored them so easily before, their power was only over those that paid them mind. That was until she felt his hand on her face, blazing hot, but soft, like a fire. Metal bit into her skin just so and tilted her face down so that the blood running over it dripped off of her nose, just missing a shimmering, guilded forearm. All she could hear was static, and all she could see was his beautiful face glowing despite being so unconventionally dark. There was something nasty in those sunny eyes, something twisted under the graceful curl of his lip. It was magnetic.

“Why don’t you come with me and rest?” he asked softly, but his voice rattled through her skull like an earthquake. She could hear the many tones layered upon his own, the malice laced between syllables-- a demon's tongue lapping at her ears. He was a monster, just like her.

Without another word, the emperor’s armored hand floated down to her own battered-stiff and bloody knuckles, lifting up just by the fingers, like lifting a leash without any expectation of resistance. She half expected him to kiss it, but alas, he just turned and lightly pulled her along. The warrior's mind was still saturated with the stench of blood, her limbs numb, her breaths roaring in her ears. The world beyond jittered in a fuzzy darkness as she stepped over mutilated bodies after the much leaner, shorter man.

It must’ve been the timing, Eri thought as she reflected on that moment. She couldn’t think of a better reason why she’d found herself suddenly paying such a delicate thing any mind. That touch to her face, and the faint sting of T’zoria’s talons never left her. From that day on the sweet scent of roses and nectar that normally made Eri cringe made her hungry instead, and so, so itchy. Just being in same room as the Emperor and having to keep her hands to herself was torture.

She was so perfect. So upright, so correct. It had to be maddening, being nailed to steel beams for the sake of a straight posture, but now she towered over everyone, scraping the sky.

Tajmal was impressed, but he saw even more now from his perch on the grass. Irestorm had collapsed after draining her energy, obliterating a poor tree with hot strikes of anger. Of fury.

Even now her eyes stung into the sky, her anger unsatisfied, how could it be?

Taj let his hand drift over her eyes to test her awareness. They blinked, softening. He felt her forehead; it was blistering, but her breaths were smoothing out. Eventually she was only breathing through her nose. Her eyes shut decisively, a hand clasping over his own. A long sigh finally released from Irestorm's chest, like steam from a lifting relief valve.

When she opened her eyes again, they met his with a familiar reservedness. 

"My apologies," she said, as if reining in a wild horse. A pity.

"No need for that," Taj nearly smiled. He himself had exhausted long before she did. His anger had only drained and stiffened his joints. 

Irestorm' hand lingered on his still, and he kept his palm over her forehead feeling it cool further, the blazing iron settling down into its cast, her gaze no longer soft, or blazed, but clear and smooth. They pinned to the blue sky in a thinking manner.

Taj leaned over her a little, "Are you alright?"

Irestorm blinked back to him, her walls still down, but her lips pressed together before she replied in an almost professional manner, "I am." That was all before she looked elsewhere.

Then, she looked back, scanning, "Are you?"

Taj lifted his brow, stroking a thumb against dense hair reassuringly. It wasn't often that Ire asked anyone such a question.

Taj brought a hand up to straighten his loosened hair. He knew he had bruises and scrapes, but that wouldn't be news. Ire never cared about such minor affects. It made him worry, "Do I look that bad?"

A twinge of a smile flashed across Irestorm's features, but she quickly reined that in too. Even so, he'd gotten stuck on it, and she looked away again, releasing his hand. He took his own back to settle rigidly in his lap, his own features tense, refusing to make whatever expression was trying to show.

"We should go clean up." Irestorm proceeded. She got to her feet, dusting herself off, once again a towering, stoic, statue. 

I wanted to draw Irestorm and practice a consistantcy with Tzoria. I’ve been thinking about these characters a lot lately (Including another unnamed character not depicted), but the irony is that Irestorm feeds into T’zoria’s lust for danger/conflict, while Umbr appeals to his more sensitive/refuge-seeking side, his human side really. T’zoria would definitely occasionally displace his pining for Umbr onto Irestorm.

I’m still working on Irestorm’s lore though. As it is, she’s married, and may or may not have something to do with a Mars-based entity (I don’t know). She’s gonna be the engine behind T’zoria’s imperialistic empire and a great local checker when the Emperor gets out of hand. 

I also tried my best with a reference pose, which I plan to do more of in the future. 

How another OC, initially Irestorm developed into Umbr!

Irestorm was originally one of my first Transformers OC's, a love interest for Dreadwing and the twin of a MC OC. Used to be this sweet innocent mama-on-the-nest. Irestorm eventually took centerstange as I rework my approach to certain characters and the story itself, having more elements related to Transformers lore and things I headcannoned from TFP (Like drones having fractured sparks to create cheaper manning and more adaptable droids) Irestorm really turned into this Megatron-inspired nightmare who was trouble for Megatron and the Autobots. For a while was Dreadwing's former pupil, but as I got older I realized the controversy behind this, and aslo struggled to imagine Dreadwing seeing Ire romantically, as opposed to familial love.