Here's one I did of my favourite "on-set" or promotional photo of Eli/Lina. It's got to be the eyes.
I've put a link to the full-sized hi-res version with the others in the "Get Yer Free Art Here!" thread for those who would like to make a print
for themselves. Remember to post a photo of it on your wall if you do take it!
Just click on the discussion link to get yours NOW! :)
CHAPTER 7
“Well, we knew it might rain, huh?” Oskar declared as he felt the first, light spatters strike his face.
Eli stopped walking, craned her head up, and looked at the dark, cloudy sky. She, too, felt the raindrops, and she paused to enjoy the sensation. A gust of wind blew the warm, June air across the trail.
She opened her mouth and extended her tongue, trying to catch some drops. Oskar looked at her, grinned, and did the same.
These character aren't mine, but I love them enough to keep drawing and writing about them.
Chapter one - Love on a train
The train rocking side to side helped sooth Oskar's irregular heartbeat, his breathing slowed as well. He melted back into the seat, relaxing now that a few stations were between them and Blackeberg. He thought he had seen a police car heading toward the station as trhe train had begun to pick up speed.
A few days back HonzaP asked me for a hi-res copy of my drawing "After the Song" saying that he would like to put it on his wall.
Since I've seen the photo he has posted of it hanging on his wall I've decided that I would put all my LTROI drawings and any I do in the future up at hi-res for anyone on the site to print or use as they like.
I only ask, though it's not a prerequisite, that if you do use them you post a photo of how you've used them in this thread or over in the one that HonzaP created.
Thank you, covenant6452
These aren't my characters. (Wait! Some of them are now!)
They (The best ones!) may belong to someone else, but I love 'em enough to write about them.
First Thirst - an LTROI Fanfiction
by covenant 6452
This is a continuation of my fan fiction. It takes places 3 nights after the events of "Winter's Cold Breath" on the outskirts of Sundsvall.
Oskar's skin felt tighter. Stretched across his face and neck the tightness pulled at the skin across his shoulders.
He needed something and knew what it was, but tried hard not to think about it.
CHAPTER 15
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Eli paced from one side of the shed to the other. Then she sat down for awhile. Then she stood up and paced some more. Then she cracked open the door a little and peeked out. Then repeated the whole thing again.
Hungry. So hungry. Like itching inside my veins. It was maddening.
CHAPTER 14
GONE AWRY
Oskar stood, shivering, and stared at the mausoleum’s open doorway. Beyond the building’s roofline, the brightening of the eastern sky heralded the approaching dawn. Before him the pickup truck idled softly, vainly awaiting its driver’s return.
He felt stunned by an enormous weight, precipitously dropped upon him. In less than a minute, his life had been irretrievably altered. He tried to gather his panicked thoughts.
CHAPTER 13
Oskar vomited into the toilet. Most of his dinner came out the first time, and a little more on the second round. Then he endured some dry heaves before he finally felt better.
He remained kneeling for a few moments in front of the bowl in his underwear, shivering. Fever is getting higher, he thought. He stood and looked at himself in the vanity as he shook three Tylenol out of the bottle and put it back on the sink. You don’t look so hot. Should go lie down.
CHAPTER 12
Oskar stuck his hands a little deeper into the pockets of his parka, hoping to slow the penetration of cold through his gloves and into his fingers. It didn’t help much, but it made him feel better. He hustled along the final curve of Horsensgatan before it connected with 63.
He wished it hadn’t snowed so early and so heavily so he could have kept riding his bike. Naturally, everything had to be difficult; even the weather was piling on to make his life miserable.
My spirit is weak and my mind weeps.
The hopes of this life have become daggers that have pierced my soul.
My wounds I fear are mortal.
My fractured heart has bled out, my veins have collapsed.
My essence is starved, craving the delicacy of life.
I feel the rot and decay of my soul within push toward the surface.
I cannot let this be.
I shall retreat within myself until the sun sets on a better day.
Will I find solace in the depths of my mind?
Shall I be consumed by the rot within?
Can a soul be revived?
