Fanart: SDMB - Dandy in the Underworld: cassiopeia7

cassiopeia7

Fanart: SDMB - Dandy in the Underworld

Nov 03, 2013 21:59

Title: Dandy in the Underworld
Author: dear_tiger
Artist: cassiopeia7
Rating: R (art only)
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: Art is a major story spoiler!
Media: Technical pen, Copic and Prismacolor marker, pastel pencil, and a bit of digital enhancement.
Summary: They say there is a secret game in Las Vegas, the greatest one of all, in which the hero plays against the dragon for three nights, and the prize is a wish granted, and the penalty is death. A new player arrives to try his luck, only to discover that the game is held in a dump of a house in the desert and that the dragon is a dude named Dean, chained to the house by the ankle. The hero soon realizes that he cannot leave unless he wins. The dragon is growing blood-thirsty, the game makes no sense, and the hero’s only hope are the clues dropped by the dragon’s brother who’s just along for the ride.

Artist notes: Yup, "the dragon is a dude named Dean, chained to the house by the ankle" was the line that had me kicking aside old ladies, orphans and nuns to claim this fic. Who wouldn't want to illustrate this? And then, not only did I get to do art for a brilliant psychological thriller of a fic, I -- finally! -- got to work with one of my favorite SPN fanfic writers ever. (TBH, I'm sad to finish because it means this fun ride is over. Here's to more collaborations in the future, bb!)

Thanks and hugs to my wonderful author, dear_tiger, who was as big a pleasure to work with as she is to talk with, full of ideas and suggestions and oh, wow, SO much enthusiasm for the first scribbles I sent her! AND she speaks military time! \o/ I also figured she would run screaming once I told her what song her fic reminded me of -- Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand" -- because not everyone gets that song, and so I was utterly flabbergasted and pleased that the Tiger loved it as much as I do. Talk about a meeting of the minds. It was an honor and a privilege to work with you, bb. We should do this again sometime.

More thanks (and a shirtless!Sam or two) also go to my awesomesauce art beta, quickreaver, a brilliant artist who takes the time to show us newbies how to be better. She saved me from myself more than once, gave drawing pointers, anatomical assistance, a metric ton of encouragement, and helped me to see. Thank you, sweetie!

Finally, thank you to riyku and the other SDMB mods who, year after year, open up this here playground for good times.

Art contains MAJOR, MAJOR STORY SPOILERS!

Please do not deprive yourself of a hella good suspenseful ride by peeking at the art first. The art can wait -- it's only pictures. SERIOUSLY. Please read the fic first.

" . . . I'm not kidding about the 'dying' part, either."

". . . Dragons have brothers, too."

“Dude, did you walk into a grocery store in those pants? Did people shove money in them?”

In the room with blackout curtains, he glimpsed the freak show duo sleeping in a shared bed, with Sam facedown and hugging the pillow and Dean stretched out diagonally across the bed, his head against Sam’s ribs, his hand in the small of Sam’s back.

Just a few paces ahead, an arched doorway turned into the arch of a soft palate, leading down into the throat. Dry mistletoe that must’ve been a few years old and covered in cobwebs hung over the archway like a uvula. From within, from where the invisible clock was dropping seconds spilled a weak firelight. It probably had to be candles, too, just like it had to be midnight, like it had to be a chain, and three nights, and clues, and a dragon to suck his bones dry.

“So,” Dean said, straightening up, with the chain still draped over his shoulders, “what’s it going to be?” He grinned down at Sam, the candlelight catching in his eyes, and added, “Oh Muse.”

This, Ivan realized with clarity that came out of nowhere, this he wasn’t supposed to see. Of all the intimate, disturbing, secret things he witnessed around the house in the past three nights, he wasn’t meant to see this one.

At midnight, Dean was waiting for him by the well, under an umbrella. Storm clouds had rolled in two hours ago, and rain was falling in sheets, turning the desert into mud. The water drummed on the roof and windows of the house, yanked at the acacia leaves and slapped against the ground.

“I’ve been sitting here, wondering if I’d have to grant your wish,
or if maybe I could just eat you instead.”

Ivan saw the room from that new angle in its whole,
with all its shadows and its monstrosity that he had missed before.

Dean threw open the lid. Although the water was long gone, it was still freezing inside, and that unnatural, deathly cold stung at his face. He couldn’t see in the dark, with the moon behind the clouds and the shaft being so deep, but he knew what was down there: ribs and long bones, pelvises and vertebrae and dozens and dozens of skulls with grinning teeth, all sitting on the bed of phalanges and metatarsals and of older crumbled skeletons.

Dean turned to look at Sam, at his ex-dragon finally back to his normal self . . . he looked like he always did - at four by the campfire in Virginia, at eight by the candlelight when the power was shut off, at different ages in different states, in the cemeteries and by unmarked graves in the woods. It was and had always been the best thing for a cold, wet, miserable day - Sam’s smiling face in the firelight.

[Bits and pieces and artistic babblings.]

About all those window and door frames:

"Dandy in the Underworld" is all about what Ivan sees -- or thinks he sees. Ivan is also a sneaky SOB, always slinking about where he has no business slinking, and with that in mind, I decided (a) that with the sole exception of the hallway scene, Ivan himself should not appear in the art, and (b) that viewers would see what Ivan saw, be it over his cup of coffee, through an open window, half-open doors, or reflected in a bathroom mirror. All of which kicked me out of my "safe," familiar drawing spaces and into happy fun times with framing.

Dividers:

That the "clues" from the three days would be involved was the easy part. Dear_tiger made the epilogue easy with her beautifully visual description of Dean's castoff shackle. The prologue piece wasn't so simple. Dean's chicken-bone-and-rat-skull dragon wind chime was initially part of the main banner, but the banner evolved without it. Fortunately, the rat-skull pencil draft stayed in my sketchbook and the image of a dragon made of scavenged bones stayed in my mind . . . and since the wind chime made an appearance in the first scene, voilá. Then, of course, I had to figure out how to construct a suitably dragon-like creature from a rat skull and the remains of a bucket of KFC after the Winchester boys were done with it. I finally went with wing bones for everything, and totally cheated with the neck and tail bones, because (a) it looks nothing like vertebrae, and (b) how many times have y'all found an articulated spine in your bucket of Kentucky Fried? (Never, I hope, because if you did . . . that wasn't chicken.)