amberdreams (
amberdreams) wrote2017-10-31 04:57 pm
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Inktober 2017 Day 31 Mask
The last one! This is a rare and momentous occasion - I won a consistency prize! Ha ha ha! Okay, so this piece isn't really finished, but I've got sketchbooking tonight and I've run out of time, so it's getting posted anyway.
I give you - Mask.
An ink pic and a wee drabble to go with it. (Which is also momentous, as I haven't written one of those for AGES).
We all wear masks, of one kind or another, Sam thought. He glanced across at Dean, who was sitting at the desk in the library, nursing a half empty beer bottle. Sam was grateful it wasn't whiskey. The lamplight gilded the planes of Dean's profile, highlighting the laughter lines and the red-gold in his stubble. As Sam walked around the table the shadows gathered, showing him another darker side of his brother; Dean's eye a pool of shadow, his cheekbones angular as blades.
Sam shivered, assaulted by the memory of cracked tiles and a hammer blow. Dean looked up; smiled.
I give you - Mask.
An ink pic and a wee drabble to go with it. (Which is also momentous, as I haven't written one of those for AGES).

We all wear masks, of one kind or another, Sam thought. He glanced across at Dean, who was sitting at the desk in the library, nursing a half empty beer bottle. Sam was grateful it wasn't whiskey. The lamplight gilded the planes of Dean's profile, highlighting the laughter lines and the red-gold in his stubble. As Sam walked around the table the shadows gathered, showing him another darker side of his brother; Dean's eye a pool of shadow, his cheekbones angular as blades.
Sam shivered, assaulted by the memory of cracked tiles and a hammer blow. Dean looked up; smiled.