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About Varied / Artist Core Member Hunter Johnson27/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
3 Week Core Membership
Statistics 272 Deviations 1,084 Comments 9,151 Pageviews

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Mischief by ShinySilver
Mischief
I've been playing around with expressive lines and bold, graphic elements.  This is new territory for me.  Still not sure how I feel about it.

This is Evan, out doing something perfectly legal, I'm sure.
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A Fool and His Motley by ShinySilver
A Fool and His Motley
I've been wanting to draw these two since finishing Robin Hobb's newest novel, Fool's Quest, last week.  It might be a bit spoilery if you haven't gotten to the Fitz and the Fool trilogy yet.  Sorry about that.

I love these books so much.
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Southward Ride by ShinySilver
Southward Ride
I'm starting to figure out Manga Studio and learn general digital art things, like using different brushes and such.  I will admit to cheating a little by doing some of the finishing colors in Photoshop, which I know much better.  

My line work is still abysmal, and I'm grudgingly considering splurging on a new tablet (my old one is about ten years out of date and so small that my mouse is actually easier to use), but I'll wait a bit on that until I'm regularly working with digital media again.  Hard to justify the cost when I'm whipping out a whopping two paintings or so a month.

I'm ashamed of how long this took me.
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The thing about World 2570 is it’s sustainable, the sunsets are nice, and the food is comically abysmal.  Not in the dangerous way it is in the 2230s, where a burrito that doesn’t taste so bad might give you gut parasites that’ll eat and replace your organs over a course of a month, or in 2357 and 2358, where they act like you’re a fup for asking to see an ingredient list after you’ve watched the waiter sprinkle actual nuclear waste on your cordon bleu.  Eating Five-Seventian food is like watching a movie that’s so bad it’s funny.  That’s why, when we were in college, we used to get hammered and Fade there and eat at a new restaurant every weekend.  It’s why I was there now.  

Ian would arrive soon.  I fiddled with my chopsticks.  I wanted to see him again.  But mostly, I really, really didn’t.

This place was, according to the sign outside, a sushi restaurant.  It did have a bar, and a conveyor belt that hummed as it snaked crimes against the culinary arts past my seat.  I chose a plate piled high with lumps of fried something.  I’ve found that fried things taste pretty much the same, no matter what they are or where you get them.  A passing waiter offered me a bottle of ketchup.

The air beside me shimmered like a dislodged contact lens.  I rubbed my eye.  

And, ever the genius with relative coordination, Ian appeared in the seat I’d left open for him.  “Didn’t know they had oceans on 2570,” he commented as his form substantiated.

As if it had been yesterday, and not ten years, since the last time we’d spoken in person.

“They don’t.”  

He chuckled.  It looked so natural.  Of course I’d seen prosthetics before.  Arms, or legs, even both.  But I’d never seen it done for half of someone’s head.  The dark eye that watched me from its corner looked like Ian’s.  I wouldn’t know it wasn’t Ian’s if I hadn’t seen the real one roll across the lab floor.  The artificial flesh blended seamlessly with the original stuff.

What do you say to a man you’ve done that to?

I dipped my fried thing into the ketchup and took a bite.  Nope, not fish.  Rice, maybe.  It was okay.  Ian raised an eyebrow, and I nodded.  
He plucked a lump from my plate.  It was tradition, to share our spoils on 2570.

“What’s new?” he asked, chewing.

I toyed with idea of telling him about the leaps in molecular transference we’d been making.  But I stopped myself.  Bragging about the corporation we’d started together, and which had ruined his life, would probably have been a faux pas.  “Not much,” I said instead.  “And you?”

Though his face remained genial as ever, I caught a tiny twitch at the edge of his mouth.  “I’m selling insurance now.  Business is good since the Personal Conveyance Act passed.”

“Lots of people buying themselves Rifters and figuring out the hard way it’s not like driving a car?”

“Exactly.  I insure the ones who’ve taken the guidance courses, and when an accident happens, it’s the other guy paying.  Works out pretty well.”

“And I bet your company loves having someone who knows the technology,” I said before I could stop myself.

That twitch again.  But his smile didn’t break.  “Yeah, I guess.  It’s really more about numbers than Rifto engines.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”  

I waved the waiter over and ordered us sake.  She nodded and left.  

“I really am sorry, you know.”  I hadn’t meant to make this that conversation, but once it started, it couldn’t be stopped.  I’d held it in for too many years.  The words gushed out of me like bile.  “I’m hasty.  Usually that’s a good thing.  We’ve never missed a product deadline, we’ve never not delivered what we’ve promised, and we do it in half the time as everyone else.  That was why we started J-Corp.  Remember?  ‘Employing the best minds against technology’s biggest hurdles?’  Well, I’m the best at getting things done.  

“But the science—that was you.  Do you know how many nights I lie awake wishing I’d listened?  I pushed, not trusting the one person who did it for the science and knew the science and wouldn’t have steered me wrong.”  I lowered my eyes.  “I’m so sorry, Ian.  For everything.”

The waitress slid the glasses in front of us and I took a long drink to drown the quiet I’d left hanging between us.  It tasted like lukewarm milk and vodka.

When I looked up again, I could see that friendly façade cracking.  Ian’s rigorous smile had gone dark.  There was no humor in his laugh.  “And here, I almost couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head.

“Do what?”

“I was so sure I would, and then I saw you again, and I lost my nerve.  Why did you have to go and say all that?”

With one swift motion, he pulled a syringe free from his coat pocket, jabbed it into my arm, and pushed the plunger.  I cried out.  The liquid burned as it entered my fatty tissue.  

“What?” I repeated.  My tongue felt thick.

Ian leaned in close.  I could see it, now; the line where true flesh met false, just along his nose and up his forehead.  One eye dilated more slowly than the other.

“You ruined my life.  And for that, you offer half-hearted apologies?  For that, you invite me out for dinner, like nothing’s wrong, like the last ten years never happened?   You’re a sociopath, Ash.  A Goddamned sociopath.  The worlds will be better off without you.”

I slumped forward.  Thoughts were difficult. “It will be a quick death,” he promised me.  His voice crackled at the end of his words as he Faded far away from World 2570.

It was.
World 2570
Seeing as I'm doing The Flash Fiction Challenge this year, and challenge #1 is already at the scoring stage, I thought it might be fun to share my first entry.  If I decide to use it for something else later on, it may be removed, so read it while you can!

For more on the Flash Fiction Challenge, check out:  www.nycmidnight.com/Competitio…
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Happy 2015!

Journal Entry: Sat Jul 11, 2015, 7:28 AM
Okay.  I've been negligent on here, but that's happened before over the years, so it's no surprise.  My motivation to create art has a definite wax and wane.  Especially considering the year I've had.  I've needed to put more focus on me, and, when I can, my writing.

I came out earlier this year to friends and family as transgender, which might have surprised some people.  Gender identity is something I mostly lacked as a child and struggled with most of my adult life.  It was easier, to me, to shove myself to the end of the spectrum I thought I was obligated to be on, and work very hard to make it seem as though I fit in there, than it was to admit to myself that I was miserable.  It's still difficult for me to not feel selfish when dealing with any sort of emotion (yay childhood trauma!), so admitting to having feelings in such a public way has been both mortifying and humbling.  Being known as transgender in most aspects of my life has eliminated a lot of carefully cultivated privacy.  And yet, almost everyone--friends, family, acquaintances, strangers--have been wonderful.  I'm very lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people.

So my year has been busy, and scary, and wonderful, and art's taken a backseat, as it does in most aspects of my life.  Book two of the Hartsborn trilogy, The Black Lute is crawling along.  It's all coming together.

Thanks to all who watch and read.  It does mean a lot to me.

-Hunter



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  • Mood: Tired
  • Reading: Firefight by Brandon Sanderson
  • Drinking: Dirty Chai

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:iconbeefpaper:
Beefpaper Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! How did I only just notice you are on here?!
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:iconshinysilver:
ShinySilver Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2015   General Artist
Because everything on here but the last few things are super old and I don't art much anymore and I mostly just look at what other people post and and and *dies of embarrassment*

(thank you for the follow thoughAshamed )
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:iconbeefpaper:
Beefpaper Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
*STILL PLANS ON LEAVING THIS TAB OPEN MY COMPUTER TO STALK FOR THE NEXT 5 YEARS*
UwU
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:iconshinysilver:
ShinySilver Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2015   General Artist
Nuu Nuu Nuu 
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:icontetheredcomic:
TetheredComic Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you so much for the watch!
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