#stormare

Apparently I had an idea that I ripped straight from @wunjotheorc for a smoking character with synthetic parts due to cancer. (My bad, didn’t mean to steal anything)

The difference is that Stormare is a doctor. I’ve been wanting to add a street doc to the cast for a while, so here it is!

If you want to know what he’s like, just imagine Peter Stormare’s character from Minority Report and add synthetic overtones and mechanical wheezing.

Taken from /r/movies/

Stormare the Birbcat

I might take a break from constantly drawing @redvelvetrunaway characters after this. Might. Maybe. We’ll see.

After the train rescue, we were dogged by guards for quite a while.  One pony hiding is easier, a pony and a griffon is more difficult.  A pony and five griffons is something else entirely.  The food requirements alone make us high-profile.  We hunkered down in patches of woods, caves, abandoned houses, houses we mistook for abandoned... at one point we stayed in a vacation house owned by my brother, Velvet Rope, figuring it would be empty in the off-season.  Embarrassingly, on the third day, he showed up with a younger stallion in tow.

Imagine, for a moment, two regular unicorns walking into the house one of them owns and being assaulted with the smell of roasting meat (I had a side of mutton in the oven).  About two seconds later, a hardened murderer of a griffon is on top of them.  My brother very nearly voided his bowels all over his foyer.  Luckily, I made it into the room before it was too late to defuse the situation.  I explained who these stallions were, and why we should neither kill nor eat them, and then I suggested Velvet Rope dismiss his stallionfriend and take a walk with me along the lake.

“I’m glad you’re well, V.R.,” I told him as we strolled along the foggy shores.  I meant it, too; he looked healthy.  His blond mane and tail had clearly been touched up with dye, and there were sunglass tan lines around his eyes, but he had overall aged gracefully.

“I’m...” he hesitated.  It was awkward for him.  I understood.  After a moment, he tried again.  “I’m... glad you’re not dead, Red.  Even with everything you did.”

I chuckled.  “We all had our secrets, brother.  I’m glad you’re out of the closet, by the way.”

“I’m -” he started a coughing fit.  “I’m not, actually.”  Things grew awkward and silent between us for a few more minutes..  “How... how long exactly will you and your friends be staying?”  My brother shared my talent to leave some things unsaid.

“A day or two longer,” I said, “Your discretion on the matter will be appreciated.”

He made a sound of resignation.  “Clean up when you leave.  With air fresheners, please.”  He looked away, and then back to me.  “You’re causing Mother no end of stress, you know.”

“Mother thrives on stress,” I said, “she’ll be fine.  What about Father?”

“Father’s not very aware of current events anymore,” he said.  “Mother’s looking into full-time care.  She’s getting too old to handle all his needs.”

I heaved a sigh.  “That’s a terrible shame.”

His eyes were on me.  “Do you really feel that way, or is it just another bit of politeness?”

I shrugged.  “The former... sort of.  It’s complicated.  Certainly I get no joy from hearing it.”  I shook my head.  “I don’t think there’s much I can do for them from my current position, certainly.”

“You should leave the country,” Rope said.  I gave him a look, but he returned it.  “Seriously.  If the Guard know you to be out of their territory, they’ll stop bothering your known associates, and if they stop knocking on Mother’s door without delivering her news of your death, it’d be a weight off her horn.”  He snorted.  “Look, it’s a suggestion, but I’m sure there’s benefit to you getting the buck out of Dodge, you know?”

I considered for a moment.  “You may have something there, brother.”  I began to trot back towards the cabin.  “Sorry about taking up your cabin.  Let me get you some bits so you and, er...”

“Crystal Key.”

“So you and Crystal Key can find a nice hotel room.”  I led him back to the cabin, and then I killed and ate him.

No, of course not really.  I gave him a sack of hush money and I haven’t seen nor heard from him since, like a good brother.  But it was a good idea.  We were still drawing heat, and Hauer and Stormare needed time apart to move on from Olin’s death.  Next time we had to leave town, we headed into Manehattan.  I seized on a connection with the Fettucine family and put them in touch with the remaining Duskraptors.  Stormare offered them his services as mercenary muscle, shock troops of a sort.  Hauer and I headed instead to the border and fled west, then south, letting ourselves get spotted once more on the way out.

Those final moments of our raid on the train were one of my greatest failures as a fighter and a tactician. Bloodied and exhausted, nursing a fractured jaw and a concussion, I was completely nullified in the fight.  Serene Grace had me pinned, blood dripping from her face down onto mine, and she had just unveiled the true extent of her magical power, striking down Olin with a single spell. “Mom...” Hauer croaked.  There would be no response.

Weisz made a rush at Serene Grace next.  The mare made a strangled sound - a desperate, inhaling snarl - and again the dark ‘s crystals began to erupt from the victim of her focus.  Weisz didn’t even get as far as Olin had.  “End this accursed bloodline...” Serene growled.  “No more Duskraptors...”  That was when Stormare slammed into her from her blind side.  She hit the deck, him on top of her, but when he attempted to slash at her again, she teleported out of his grasp.

I struggled to get up on my hooves, the flashing disappearance of Serene’s body revealing Stormare’s wild, furious eyes.  With a laugh, Serene targeted Avelon next.  Avelon wasn’t even going for her - she was making for the car’s entrance, to flee.  But now she was the last female Duskraptor, and that was why she was Serene’s target - the dark crystals erupting from her abdomen first confirmed it.

I made a stumbling charge for Serene, a stupid, clumsy attack that managed nothing but making myself a target again - but the Mask, bless that whispering abomination, inhibited her ability to target my internals.  The lack of immediate success wasn’t enough time for me to get to her, but it was enough for Stormare to plow in again.  She attempted some sort of defensive ward, but Stormare’s blade tore through the half-formed enchantment and laid her out.

For an instant, it looked like Stormare would finally be the end of the mare.  But as his blade’s tip began to stab toward Serene, a blast of magic totally unlike Serene’s tore through the train car.  Time seems to crawl already when I wear the Mask and imbibe the Draft, but this was something different entirely - temporal distortion magic.  Standing protectively in front of her was a white unicorn stallion, his mane and beard streaks of gold and silver, purple eyes blazing.  I recognized the heavyset unicorn stallion as Warden Time-Out... my prison warden in Canterlot.  I’d only ever seen him once before, and only heard him speak over an intercom.  His voice carried here a conviction I hadn’t heard those previous times, and he said: “It is not yet her time.”  Then both unicorns were gone, and Stormare was skewering empty air.

Have you ever heard a griffon roar in despair?  It was not a noise I’ll soon forget.  He threw down his blade and embraced Olin’s prone form, the crystals digging into his hide.  Waltz, Borg, and Lang joined in the cry of mourning.  I was muted by my jaw, unable to offer a word of comfort.  It was Hauer who brought his father crashing back to reality.  “Dad,” he said, his own voice thick with tears, “we have to get out of here.  It’s not safe.”

The last one (for now) of these two, I swear.

Just had to make this too after the latest updates on Red Velvet’s blog. Feeding your baby chick, barely a week old, with a highly addictive potion your whole clan takes to be even stronger than they already are. Because your spawn is so weak it might not survive without it. Your own intake of the Draft possibly the very reason your one child turned out so weak, making it generally hard to produce children.

Pretty heavy to me.

And I also just wanted to draw tiny chick Hauer being fed by daddy Stormare. Ain’t they just adorable?

I might taken Stormare’s Daddy-Waggon metaphor a bit too literate.

But I regret nothing!