Here We Are, Back At Drawing DRESSES *^*

New drawing X3

I did a redraw of a famous scene from the Disney movie "Atlantis" But with Aurora from Azran Legacy X3 also I changed her clothes and damn it was hard to draw her as if she was some kind of cristal girl XD

👍🤌💫❤️‍🔥💘💖😍🤩👀😳💫💫💫

I am in love ❤️😍💖 I ADORE IT, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR TIME AND ART MARTY ! ♡♡♡♡

Pirate-Des? Pirate-Des. 

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Here’s the prize for the lovely artist @mirza-majoris who often blesses us all with gorgeous artworks inspired by my silly concepts  💕

Got bored and stressed like crazy these past few days and I really needed to focus on something nice and cosy so I went back drawing that girl ahah ><

I know it is of no valuable interest but still, it feels vetter to share it rather than to let it rot inside my phone as a nameless screenshot ahah X'3

Anyway, if Bill possesses Rania, this could be what would happen to her. She'd be somehow granted the gift of seeing it all, like a cosmic being, part of the stars and somehow becoming a constellation herself. However, she'd still get used by Bill as some henchwoman, to help him assure his dominance on Gravity Falls by hunting down every member of the Zodiac to stop people from trying to stop him.

In this version of the story, Ford escapes the bell tower with Dipper and hides with everyone else in the Shack. After Rania is sent there to capture them all, everyone splits and tries to hide away from her huntress form.

The more she is transformed like this and the more she loses herself and what makes her human, like sympathy, empathy, sadness, attachment etc. She's still Rania, but under a layer of complex feelings, so one would have to dig up her very core-self to bring her back to normal and to reason.

Her capacities include creating wormholes to move, like teleportation, and some sort of blackholes that are like pocket-timeless-prisons in which she keeps her "preys" until she get them locked up at the Fearamid.

Well I love this thing XD really cool !

So here it is, my magical me ! @narumitsu-lawlu but I dunno who to tag XD

Everyone stop what you’re doing and create a magical you with this picrew

@thechaoscult @pluto-is-real @goswlogpncmcrfobpjstltruaqhtma42 @everyone

I was rewatching The Cat Returns from Ghibli and I just thought of something X3 had to draw about it of course XD

So here are two drawings I did. I like the first one better than the second one but hey, friends told me it was good enough to be posted so X3

Let's call this The Azran returns XD

Because we all need some old Scottish butler !

An idea I had a long time ago, it just popped in my head someday : what if Hershel and Desmond were some kind of thieves like Arsène Lupin ? And this happened.

I know, they are probably a little bit out of character but hey, I needed some Desmond teasing his younger brother ! Enjoy ^^

"What pseudonyme did you take this time,  again ?

-It is Jean Descole, dear brother.

-You really like french names, do you not ?"

Their eyes met and they smiled, a smile as genuine as it was sincerely amused. All around them, dancers were dancing, people were talking, servants were working so this evening could be the most magnificent of all. After all, in a city as popular as London, during the Belle Époque, all had to be perfect, especially if you were a young and noble man and if you were trying to impress your public by showing them how wealthy you were.

Everywhere, all around the manor, there were so many beauty and charm that the atmosphere itself was like enchanted. The musicians were playing their music, Degas, Gramophone Waltz. Women looked as splendid as mythological ladies, dressed in blue, white, red, purple, all colors and styles, their hair carefully put in buns covered in pearls and feathers. French, English, German even Russian gentlemen were there, dancing or courting the ladies, speaking about politics or new cars wich were more and more present in each and every cities of occidental countries.

Among this wealthy crowd, looking at the ballroom and the people in it, were two gentlemen. It was a very common thing in a place like this, but our story would not have been the same if they were just some normal gentlemen.

They were special. By their look, firstly. The first one embodied exactly what an English gentleman looks like, with his high hat, a dark brown one on which a beautiful and shiny little rubis could be noticed to sophistically decorate the hat itself. He was dressed in the same shades of brown, only a small bow tie reminded red and his shirt took the colors of a sunrise, full of orange and some shades of light brown and dark red too, almost crimson. The heels of his shoes remained silent, their noise was covered by the music, but he had this stature and this assurance no one except a very perfect man would have had. His white-gloved hands hold a long and precious-wood-craft cane on the top of which was set a amber stone. His dark brown eyes and his polite smile had already made young ladies hearts melt, more than once.

The second one was not as wise looking as his colleague. He looked more like a dandy, less obedient, more wild styled. Dressed with a more fading tone of brown, almost beige, and shades of english violet, he was the kind of man women looks at while blushing and whispering behind their fans. A beige cloak thrown on his shoulder and no classy tuxedo for him, but a superb purple shirt, with no tie. He had no hat, unlike his comrade, but his hair was darker and tie on his neck with a curious ribbon, as red as his eyes, eyes which were resting behind ffine and discret glasses circled of silver, and decorated with a precious and shiny diamond. His own cane was also held by gloved hands but his gloves were black and his cane was thiner, hiding, like many others, a blade in it, but it didn't make it lose its style and own beauty.

They have been invited to this party by a certain Bill Hawkes, a new politician and aristocrat from London. He had inherited of an very rich uncle when the man died last year, and the new rich, frivolous man didn't restrain himself long before exhibiting his fortune. He was the kind of man someone could trust easily, be fooled by and becoming his servant, enslaved by promises and wrong choices. Behind this heritage also lied the blackmail of corrupted politics. Of course, nobody knew it but it was more money for him. And, with this money, one of his hobby was collecting works of arts. The second one was inviting important people to his parties.

So, tonight, this was both these hobbies that lead the two gentlemen in his residence.

"The countess Angela owns a wonderful river of diamonds", said the one with the purple shirt.

"Since when do we steal honnest women ?" replied the one with the hat.

"Come on ! She already likes me, I could easily take it~

-You really are annoying, dear brother... You never stop playing. I thought you preferred the Boticelli in the living room ?

-Oh, I do ! It talks less and does not have an insuferrable little dog... Well, as for you, you like his brooch, do you not Hershel ?

-Indeed, the ruby on it is splendide. Also, it's gold. A real work of art, Desmond."

The two of them smiled again before Desmond began to laugh.

"Oh, and forget about the Rembrandt in his room. Now, excuse me but I have a young lady to dance with~."

Hershel smiled, amused. His brother enjoyed really much his own amusement, more than their business.

"Then I will go and talk to our dear host. I would like you to take care of his painting while I take care of the brooch. After your dance of course."

Desmond looked pleased by this plan and nodded a bit. The following instant, he disappeared in the crowd. Hershel smiled and took a step to come closer to his target, Bill Hawkes.

He was blabbering with a charmant red-haired lady, whom the gentleman found beautiful. Then, he left her for a moment and smiled to the gentleman.

"It is a real pleasure to have you here tonight, sir," he said. "I hope you enjoy the party.

-Very much, indeed", he courteously replied. "You are a very distinguish person of London, after all.

-Thank you my friend, thank you", he answered with pride. "I may be rough right now, but I have not seen you dancing with anyone tonight, milord. Do you look for some company ? I know a perfect lady, an english woman, who would be glad to...

-I am afraid I have to decline your offer", the gentleman interrupted. "I am not looking for a feminine company. "

The two of them then began to talk about politics, like many others here, and then about business and art, and the gentleman was found to be an expert, even though he did not reveal his knowledge entirely to his new friend. And, as the conversation went this way, while Hawkes was sometimes looking at the others to introduce them to his new comrade, he didn't notice that his brooch was gone.

Finally, when it come to an end, the gentleman politely thanked his friend and took a step to go on the balcony, alone, but a hand was put on his shoulder.

"Pardon me, milord, but may I ask you for a dance ?"

Hershel looked at her, because it was a woman who just asked him to dance. She was the girl with whom Bill was talking to, a few minutes ago. And the gentleman though again that she was beautiful.

Firstly, she had put her fiery ginger hair on a bun, embellished with white pearls and a single white light feather. Her dark but tender eyes looked at him with honnesty, however hiding a playful or impish nature behind these long eyelashes. Her dress was green, but a dark shade of green, as an emerald veil decorated with other pearls and some lace work, as if she herself was a jewel.

Yes, she was beautiful, but the young gentleman had no time for some frivolous pleasure.

"I may seem to lack of manners but I am afraid I have to decline-

-I insist, sir", she smiled while taking his hand and bringing him among the other dancers.

The gentleman tried to excuse himself but she didn't let him go and soon, both of them were waltzing.

"Second Waltz, Shostakovitch", she whispered. "What a pleasant melody, don't you think ?

-Indeed, miss", he quickly answered. "But...

-What a nice brooch you have", she interrupted without her smile to vanish. "What a pity you should hide it in your pocket... this ruby circled of gold is a chef-d'œuvre."

Hershel could have been afraid of her telling the truth to the others but, when you are a gentleman, you have to act like so. He smiled lightly, a smile between amusement and curiosity.

"Then you better take good care of your ring, miss. Emeralds and sapphires are worth an interesting price."

But, instead of feeling intimidating nor scared of her fortune being taken from her, she laughed lightly and kept on dancing.

"Oh, I do not worry about my jewellery, I have observed you during the party. You are polite, well-manered and really preventive toward women, sir gentleman. May I ask your name ?

-Henry Ledor, dear madam.

-Do you not know that lying to a young lady is what gentlemen do not do ?"

The said gentleman hesitated for a minute, without stopping the dance. He was not supposed to tell his name, that could bring them troubles regarding their activities. He took a random name he saw on the list of guests but it did not fool her. After a moment of thinking, he smiled and did not completely answer.

"I presume you are Claire Foley, the daughter of Earl Foley ?"

Now, she was surprised. She would have stopped dancing if his partner wasn't following the tempo perfectly. He was really a very good dancer.

"I do not remember having introduced myself, though.

-I know your name from our dear host, the man you were talking to before I myself did. He is under your spell and beauty, milady.

-I can not say the same about how I perceive him", she sighted tiredly. "He has no manner, no politeness, because he is like playing a role... Ah, these politics !"

Hershel laughed, sincerely. Well, considering the fact that his own brother was acting so flirty with a lot of women, he could not really agree with her. You did not have to be a politician to act so roughly toward women. Miss Foley smiled again after a minute and let him lead the dance, as if she trusted him enough to lead her wherever he wanted.

After a moment, the music stopped. The gentleman bowed before the young ginger lady as she did as well. Then, she took a pocket watch and looked at the time, her impish smile painted on her face. It took Hershel a few seconds to recognise his own watch.

"How did you...?"

The lady smiled and looked at him in the eye.

"I did not know you could be so easily fooled by a simple woman like me, dear unknown."

The gentleman did not know what to think, how to think, to be precisely right. He didn't planned to be caught by the eye of a so charming lady who, he was certain of it, had him under her spell. She was beautiful, of course, only a blind man would have thought otherwise, but she had this light in her look, the light of cleverness and playfulness. She was so much more than what she looked like.

With a kind laugh, she gave him his pocket watch back. But the english man smiled again and took her hands in his to make her hold the watch.

"You are not a common person, milady, so take it, as a souvenir..."

She was surprised but looked at him while he leaned to her, before whispering to her ear.

"My name is Hershel Layton."

She jolts to the name and opened her mouth to talk but the lights just faded in the instant.

An anxious gasp of surprise waved through the ballroom and, after a few seconds, when the lights came back, her mysterious cavalier was gone.

"Thieves, they stole me !"

Bill Hawkes was almost hysterical, shutting all around him that he had been robbed, that they took him his wealth, yelling at his servants and butlers.

Curious, as many of the guests, Claire approached the man and she could see he had a paper in his hand.

"What happened, sir ?" she asked.

"They stole me ! These two sons of the devil, they stole me !

-But who are you talking about ?" insisted another woman.

He angrily gave her the paper and the lady read it loud.

"Dear Bill Hawkes, thank you a lot for the Boticelli and the brooch of yours, they are splendid. Also, we are sorry...."

"Sorry about what ?" asked the woman.

But Claire smiled, took the card and turned it before reading.

"... but the Rembrandt is a copy. Sincerely, H. L and D. S"

Most of the guests laughed because they found it amusing that thieves would sign their crime. But a woman, the countess Angela, screamed in surprise.

"My river of diamonds ! My necklace !"

Then another man realised he has lost his ring, another one had lost his watch, another his chevalière.

"They stole us ! Who ever dare ?!"

But, while everyone was bumbling and babbling about the unknown thieves, Claire fixed the paper. H. L ? Was it possible ?

Unconsciously, she strengthened her grip on the pocket watch.

Outside the manor, near a fiacre, Layton looked at the place with a fugitive smile. What a mess they caused !

"So," yawned Desmond inside the cab. "Will you come or not ? I am exhausted, I need a good cup of Darjeeling tea".

Hershel sighted at the impatience of his brother and went inside the fiacre before it began to move in the night, silently, through London.

But Desmond knew there was something in the mind of his younger brother, he was rarely that quiet and that happy at the same time.

"Did you meet someone at this party, dear brother ?" he smiled, impish. "Come on, I know that look, you found something or someone really interesting. Tell more to your older brother~

-Stop teasing me", he sighted. "She will probably not remember me...

-Oh ho ! "She" ? Who was she ?~

-Desmond...

-What ? You've never shown any interest in women before, I am curious ! So ?"

Understanding that he would never be in peace unless he talked to him, so Hershel consented to do it.

"It is Claire Foley..."

Well, a slap would not have shake him the way the name did.

"Wait... Earl Foley's daughter ? No way ! You fell for his daughter ! Ahaha !

-Desmond, stop it, it was just a dance !

-Hum hum," he nodded. "That's why you gave her your precious pocket watch and was leaned to her like this ? Do not think I did not see you both, waltzing on the dancefloor~ I am the one who switched off the light after all."

The gentleman could not help but blushing and looked away.

"Did I ever tease you about your flirty behaviour, Desmond ?

-At least, I could teach you how to properly flirt with her~

-Desmond !"

The older brother laughed a bit but Hershel could not really blame him. He would never dance with women, nor would he court them. But Claire Foley, she was not like other women, she had something in her eyes, she was... particular. She was someone, someone he would love... to see again, of course !

"Stop talking nonsense", he sighted. "And tomorrow, I want you to give madame Angela her jewellery back. She does not deserve to get her property stolen.

-Rhaaaa come on ! She was so proud of herself, it was unbelievable !

-As a gentleman, I refuse to stole the property of innocent peope, you know it perfectly so I would advise you to give her necklace back as soon as possible. Understood ?"

His brother mumbled something between his lips but, after a dark glare from his sibling, he sighted and nodded. Satisfied, Layton remained silent until they come back home.

I dunno, it just crossed my mind and it became a drawing X3 Here is a Lady of the Belle Epoque, with a french touch I think XD

The colors are not what I expected but, well, it's better than a blank space >~<

Maestro belongs to @phaunicier

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood on the second drawing

Here is the evolution of an OC I made while doing a rp with a friend about PL and TARGENT. Her name's Magpie, she loves this kind of birds and is a very talented pickpocket.

I redesigned her because I have her evolution in mind in a way, I dunno if I will let her exist in the PL universe of make her independantly of it. Changing the style of the drawing and going into something darker. Dunno if it's relevant, nor interesting but here it is...

I love dark things and drama sooooo yup, maybe draw more of this later, dunno

Too lazy to try shadowing this X'3 again, this silly concept of crossover, but it spins in my mind XD

EDIT : I FORGOT I HAD THREE MORE PANELS THAT I NEVER POSTED T^T SORRY GUYS ><"

He looked at his younger son, shocked, and realised what he meant. He was holding two pieces of the cursed Azran gold above the chest of stone and opened his hand to let them fall. Bronev loosened his grip on his pistol and sword and looked at the place where his cold heart rested. He opened his coat and saw a dark-red mark growing on his shirt, he felt his own blood running down his chest. He felt. He understood.

For a moment, he looked the abyss of his mind, eyes lost and vague, confused, but then he smiled, amused by the tragic irony of the situation.

-Heh... Good aim, son...

Then his legs trembled and weakened and he fell down. In a last breath, he allowed death to grip his soul with its cold embrace.