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Father Serafim needs peace and quiet… Good thing his loved ones are on the introverted side
It's been a while since I made a full on illustration. Finals and uni applications are stressing me tf out...
Serafim's outfit is that of a priest-monk cause i really wanted to draw him post time skip in my setting. I want to make a visual novels about the horrors he's going through but it's a long, looong process
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Another attack for @palidoozy-art!! Something about ruined kings always gets me OUGH
головаболиттупаясука
Fiz esse desenho quando estava entendiado, minha criatividade é muito aleatória
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a bunch of elves, pre and post needing therapy
continued from here @serafim Bumping into his lip as he drank, a slice of dumbapple was the source of a momentary pause. It was just enough of an opening for Sephiroth to artfully work his way into the catastrophic endeavors of research without so much displacing a single page. Such tactics were brutal and undoubtedly unfair. Nonetheless, Genesis was unwilling to give up his little treat either. He would make no commentary on 'what he thought of it'. That would require a critique to begin with in the first place.
"Poor thing's hibernating. Hasn't slept well since his last assignment." It was a... messy one, undoubtedly. Even if the reports spoke of one version of events, the heaviness in their fellow First's eyes spoke of another. And like clockwork, Genesis' nest had taken form, building until it was the state it was now. He should have been there, spare the misery. So he was now here, trying to make squiggles of some madman's diary garner clues he somehow missed the first, second, and... twentieth times. "Possibly." He replied to the suggestion of submitting a request for an open study with a suspicious amount of agreeableness. "Provided adequate furniture arrangements can be made." He set the page down on the newly available surface, namely Sephiroth's lap. Without so much as looking up, he took the next page in the diary, water-logged, and hardly legible. If one looked closely, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. And it remained there as he gently agitated the liquid of his mug to stir up it's pleasant aroma. Briefly, a comfortable silence fell, the rays of the early morning light creeping across the floor in declaration that it was indeed the next day. He was no closer to finding what he was looking for than when he started. "There... are only so many 'new' pieces of materia to be found." A nonsensical statement, one that made perfect sense in his sleep-deprived mind. "Fira is fira is fira. Once manufactured, that's all it is. The deviation in the memories stored within are muddied in favor of wide use. The same use. Standardized and mass produced. Even synergistic materia runs into the same problem--" Genesis cut his rambling short, seeming to even have lost his own train of spiraling thought. Head hitting the back of the couch cushion, Genesis stared up at the high-vaulted ceilings. A delirious laugh bubbled out from his chest. "I should send them on a wild goose chase. How does the ever elusive and legendary Bahamut Ultima sound?"
