Sra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2012-06-03 02:00 am
sarcasticsra) wrote in rainbowfic2012-06-03 02:00 am
Fire Opal, 19 + seed beads + glitter + illustration.
Author: Sara
Colors: Fire Opal, 19. we each only have to kill 1,000 men.
Supplies: Seed Beads, Glitter (Time Is Running Out, Muse)
Style: Miniature, Illustration
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13 (murder)
Story: Polyfaceted; title of this is Marchio Della Famiglia.
Summary: The Corlioni family tattoo is very distinctive.
Notes: Takes place in 2007. I decided to sketch this on a whim. Colored it (and fixed parts) in photoshop. The C was inspired by this one.
He’s barely conscious, only half-aware his head keeps listing to the side. It’s a rare reprieve, and he can see them standing several feet away, taking in low tones amongst themselves, their whispers forming a soft, indistinct buzz.
They’re deciding who gets to kill him. He can’t bring himself to care.
A few more seconds pass, and then it’s Giovanni in front of him, and his eyes follow a bead of sweat as it falls down his neck and shoulder, sliding over the ornate, blood red C and silver dagger on his arm.
It’s the last thing he ever sees.
Colors: Fire Opal, 19. we each only have to kill 1,000 men.
Supplies: Seed Beads, Glitter (Time Is Running Out, Muse)
Style: Miniature, Illustration
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13 (murder)
Story: Polyfaceted; title of this is Marchio Della Famiglia.
Summary: The Corlioni family tattoo is very distinctive.
Notes: Takes place in 2007. I decided to sketch this on a whim. Colored it (and fixed parts) in photoshop. The C was inspired by this one.
He’s barely conscious, only half-aware his head keeps listing to the side. It’s a rare reprieve, and he can see them standing several feet away, taking in low tones amongst themselves, their whispers forming a soft, indistinct buzz.
They’re deciding who gets to kill him. He can’t bring himself to care.
A few more seconds pass, and then it’s Giovanni in front of him, and his eyes follow a bead of sweat as it falls down his neck and shoulder, sliding over the ornate, blood red C and silver dagger on his arm.
It’s the last thing he ever sees.
