#kozzdraws

Fairly certain Chael would mistake Twub for a girl if they ever met. And Chael is a huge flirt so this is probably how it would go down.

-Twub is property of Kozzdraws (Blacksum)

My Valentines' Day Drawing for this year will be... for Kozz!

Happy (early) Valentines' Day!

I saw it in a community theatre and have been considering drawing something for it ever since. I think what intrigued me the most was that orcas had a more developed emotional part of the brain than humans. ..

I know how that is. I haven’t talked to my brother in 12 years.

as they plummeted. Their brethren already frosted the boughs of the surrounding trees and padded the hard ground. One adventurous crystal alighted squarely on Manglev’s snout and the feline had to cross his luminescent blue eyes to watch it enact its tragically short lifespan. Theological implications abound. Had he been in a philosophical mood he could have spent hours contemplating the lessons in life and passion encompassed within that single, melting snowflake. But, at present, he felt that his thoughts would only muddle the serenity of the evening. As it was, the portrait nature had painted around him was utterly pristine. The new-fallen snow was yet unmarred by the contact of sentient beasts and it seemed to cast the scene in a spectral blue light. A chilled breeze tickled his heavy winter coat, leaving him feeling clean and refreshed. There was perfection in the crispness, the solitude.

The only interruption in the quietude was the gaudy, colorful tent situated behind him. It broke the peace with its boastful existence. Over the course of the past hour the raucous festivities barely contained within had died to a muffled murmur of yuletide clichés. Inside, the Christmas celebration was continuing its decrescendo. Hyson had already passed out, inebriated, in a large bowl of punch, his limbs dangling over the edge and a dark stain slowly creeping up the seat of his flamboyant purple suit-pants. The festive medley that had previously risen from the hand-crafted mandolins and flutes of Brune and Myriot had died to a series of dulcet twangs as the duo attempted to teach Eureka how to coax out a melody. All the while the glowing young lass glanced furtively over her shoulder at the mop of pink hair that was Brynn. The youth had managed to both amuse and befuddle himself by using strings of vibrant lights to transform into a human Christmas tree. Meanwhile, Nox had reduced himself to wowing Creature and a crowd of exhausted and punch-drunk stage griffins with elementary card tricks, unaware that someone had draped an intricate array of tinsel over his curling horns. Even Besclin was in attendance. Someone had taken the time to wheel her tank into the tent and dump a bucket of green food-dye into the water so that she could join in the merriment. With the night drawing to a close, she floated under a piece of mistletoe that had been tacked to the outside of the aquarium, her sharp teeth glinting between the lips that twisted to form her devious smile.           It was only the sound of crunching footsteps, however, that broke through Manglev’s absorption and into his conscious mind. When he looked up he found that he was no longer unaccompanied. Standing beside him, hands in the pockets of a lavish red and white coat, was Marlene. She was dressed for the season with thick, fur-lined boots, slim black tights with sleigh bells sewed up the side, and a Santa Clause hat sitting atop her dark hair. Her ensemble was completed by a signature half-grin that dimpled her scarred cheek.           “What are you doing sitting out here like a furry green bump on a log?” She questioned with a raspy chuckle.           His own chest cavity rumbled with a quiet laughter. “It may look like I’m just sitting here,” He replied cheekily, “But on a cellular level I’m actually quite busy.”          Marlene fixed him with a disapproving stare for a long moment, just long enough for him to run through the sentence in his head to make sure nothing offensive had spilled past his lips, before breaking out into a smile. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.” She shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, though. Weren’t you having fun inside?”                                                                                    It was Manglev’s turn to shrug his hunched shoulders, though the awkward motion looked more like a shudder. “I was inside for a while. I just needed some air,” He defended.             Before he had finished his last syllable he felt the toe of her boot nudging his hind leg “Don’t sound so grumpy!” She instructed.                                                                                            “I’m always grumpy.             “It’s Christmas!”             “So?”             At this Marlene appeared generally concerned. Her thick lower lip protruded in a pout and she crossed both arms over her chest. Her feet spread apart slightly in a stubborn stance. “Don’t tell me you don’t like Christmas?!”             Manglev just shook his head and grunted noncommittally. Marlene continued to fix him with an intrusive stare, as if meaning to drag an answer out of him with her penetrating eyes. After several seconds he realized that he was not going to escape her line of indignant inquiry. “It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. I just don’t really see the point.”             “It’s a reason to celebrate!” Marlene suggested.             “But that’s all it is.” Manglev explained with a sigh. “I mean, doesn’t it seem a little silly? Why are we even celebrating? Because of convention? Everyone gets drunk and decorates because they’re used to it. I guess because I didn’t grow up with Christmas every year it all just kind of escapes me. I don’t really see why everyone gets so fussed about it.”             Marlene, ever obstinate, was quick with her rebuttal. “That’s not all Christmas is about.”             “Then what is it about? Religion? Jesus was probably born in the Spring, you know. The Christian church just adopted the Pagan celebration of the winter solstice to help convert new members. So, really, there’s no religious significance. Besides, there are plenty of people out there that don’t even believe in Jesus.”             Marlene just smiled amusedly and shook her head. “I don’t think you really understand what Christmas is about, Manglev,” She mused, glancing fondly down at her friend. “Christmas isn’t about the tinsel or the carols or the eggnog. Sure, that’s all part of it, but not the real meaning behind it. Hell, Christmas isn’t really even about Jesus, in my opinion. The real Christmas has to do with what all of those things stand for: love, generosity, good will. Maybe it’s not something that everybody celebrates, but those are qualities that everyone values, in their own way. Christmas is just an excuse to bring out those traits in people. It’s a chance to break away from the humdrum of everyday life to spend time with friends and family and generally be in good cheer. So cheer up, fuzz-butt!”             Manglev’s ears swiveled in her direction as he listened intently to her speech. The words themselves didn’t strike much of a chord with him, but the sheer conviction with which she spoke them was enough to melt his harried expression into a soft smile. From the whimsy in her tone to the warm embers glowing behind her eyes, her sincerity was evident. She truly believed in the inherent joy of Christmas. The characteristically wry and cynical woman had opened her heart, at least for a night, to the possibility of an innate kindness in her fellow creatures. Even if he couldn’t reconcile himself to be in complete agreement, Manglev couldn’t ruin that for her.             “All right, all right, I suppose you’re right.” He purred, craning his neck to nuzzle her hand expectantly. Marlene in response and began to scratch the skin of his scalp.”             “Good! So no more gloominess for the night!” The gaze she fixed him with was a knowing one. She was well aware that he had changed his approach for her alone, and she was willing to accept that. It would never be that simple to convince him of anything. After all, he was quite capable of being just as shrewd and stubborn as she. But an attempt at cheer from him was all that she required for the evening. Coming from him, she knew, that was a great gift.             “So....” Manglev began after a short stretch of silence, “Should we go back inside?”             Marlene gave his head an appreciative pat. “Nah, the party’s almost over, anyways. I don’t particularly want to be there when they try to fish Hyson out of the punch bowl. Let’s just go.”             The hulking green male snorted with laughter rat the mental image. “Whatever you say,” he agreed amicably. With a grunt he heaved himself to his feet. He could almost hear his bones creak as he did so and it made him feel like an un-oiled piece of machinery. While Marlene scuffed her boots against the ground, making a jingling sound as each leg moved, Manglev did his best to shake the thin dusting of snow from his thick, mossy coat. Once he was satisfied his friend replaced her slender hand atop his head and the two tromped away from the clearing, girl and beast.             As they walked, Marlene prodded at him good naturedly. “So I guess Mr. Scrooge doesn’t like Christmas presents either.” She teased.             Manglev chortled. “Why do we even give gifts on Christmas? Do we really need to buy each other’s affection?” He questioned, more for sport than any real inclination against the tradition of gift-giving.             “Fine! I won’t give you yours!”             “I didn’t say I didn’t want it!” Manglev protested, looking upwards at her with sudden disheartenment.             “I don’t know,” Marlene pondered with hyperbolized hesitation. “Have you been good? Only good girls, boys, and kitties get gifts.”             He screwed up his face into a wrinkled expression of distaste. “Define ‘good’.”             Marlene scrutinized him for a second as if taking an inventory of his past deeds. As quickly as the expression had appeared, however, it was replaced by an impish grin. A soft accented hiss reverberated between the back of her palate and her tongue. “You’re lucky I’ve got a soft spot for you.” She said, tilting her head affectionately towards him.            For once in his life, Manglev did feel very lucky.

I know this is from well over a week ago but this still gets me.

all fandoms are alike, especially the larger they get. Pretty much impossible to avoid the bad stuff with the good.