Inkdots, Inkspots...

Have my favorite Disney villain and probably my favorite cat in general. AU fun.

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

Vaeri wrote:

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

He is best bad kitty.

Also.... start of a story.  Will finish it one day....

---

Fire had never frightened him, though it should.  Most creatures, wise creatures, were frightened of the red tongue that could maim with a lick.  No, it had always been skyfire that terrorized him.  Skyfire split the night with light that dazzled the eyes, and left its ghost burned into his retinas.  It couldn’t be outrun the way groundfire could.  It struck like a falcon tearing a dove from the sky, ripping down with a sound that made his ears ring.  He’d always hidden during thunderstorms.  Beneath his mother when he was a cub, then curled into the tightest of balls to the far back of his desolate cave as an adult.  He’d always hidden from the storms.  Until this time.

This time he had to fight, to show he was a true king.  He had to push down that childish fear and fight for his place atop Pride Rock even as the bolts struck around him.  The storm would bring life-giving rain, but first it would bring skyfire.  The skyfire, in turn, brought groundfire.

Scar had felt death closing around him.  It was more than the sink of sharp fangs driven by powerful jaws into his flesh.  There was a coldness to it, a chilly embrace to counter the feeling of hot breath on his throat as Shenzi clamped down on it.  He’d never appreciated the power of a hyena’s bite until they were turned on him… but to his haunches, his back, his legs.  None to his underside, spilling is guts.  Not one injury was fatal, he realized.  Not yet.  It could have been over so quickly, but he’d seen the look in Shenzi’s eyes. She didn’t want this to be quick. She wanted him to suffer, as he’d made them suffer.  Perhaps she even wanted him to beg before she closed down and crushed his windpipe once and for all.  For forgiveness or his life, though he was sure both would be moot.  He had to try, though he feared to hear her laugh.  His jaws opened to speak, but thick ash and cinders choked off his words in equal amounts to the pressure she exerted.

The look of cold distain on the matriarch’s face was less chilling than the shadow he saw standing behind her.  It would have been less terrifying if it were another lion.  Then he could tell himself he was seeing Simba gloating down over him.  Or perhaps Mufasa’s spirit come to do the same.  Whispered stories from his mother had always told him they were the only creatures lions truly had to fear; they looked helpless and were anything but. No claws or fangs.  No fur.  A short mane.  They made up for it by adorning themselves in the bodies of the beasts of the savanna.  The claws and fangs of a male lion were a favorite.  Even a lion, she said, should fear the Watu.

Shenzi had noticed the distant look on his face, the fear in those green eyes she once thought were beautiful.  When both were younger and Scar was still Taka, a young prince who would rather spend time leaping among the ancient bones and crumbling cliffs with her clan than walk among his own.  Oh, how he wanted to rule over the land, but the lions… they were an afterthought.  He never fit in with them, they never understood him, or wanted him around.  Only his mother did, he claimed.  She’d seen Uru once.  Just a glimpse from a distance.  She and her son had the same eyes.

Flames licked at her paws and she growled, shaking the weakening lion.  Perhaps tightening down would be a mercy, but she didn't want to give him that.  He was meant to suffer, and the fire would do that.  He could burn slowly, feeling the agony as it ate away at him the way hunger gnawed at their bellies.  If the fire didn’t kill him, the Pridelanders would finish the job.  That would be satisfactory.  Dropping him to the ground, she rallied her pack, snarling as they protested, wanting to tear into him, sate their hunger.  No time.  The fire was too close, and would take them, too, if they stayed.  There would be other meals, more filling ones.  Though perhaps not as satisfying.  She’d take her clan far from Pride Rock.  Far from the Pride.  Far from the scene of their betrayal and abandonment.  Far from the lion she once called friend.

Scar lifted his head, blinking slowly at the human who stood unbothered and unnoticed by the hyenas fleeing the encroaching fire, snapping and yelping their displeasure of having to abandon their meal of feline flesh.  It stood there, a silent shadow, half of its body hidden behind a shield, a long spear held in one hand.  Scar struggled to get his paws under him, legs weak, as the hand holding the weapon lifted it, then slammed the butt of it down upon the ground.  Over and over.  It rattled the stones of the ground, clanging in his ears like thunder.  Despite the heat of the fire, Scar could feel a chill wind coiling around him, ruffling his fur.  The spear rose slowly, the shadow man lifting it over his head to take aim at the cowering, maimed lion.  This was not a human, he realized, standing out among the burning brush.  This was Death.

Somehow he found the strength to get to his feet… and run.

Run was perhaps a generous description of his wobbly loping, but all that mattered was that he put distance between himself and the phantasm. It gave chase, keeping an easy pace, sometimes so close on his heels that his pawpads, burned and oozing as they were, felt the soothing cold of that aura.  He ran until the flood of adrenaline inside him ran dry.  After that he limped along, the long night blossoming into day, then night again, before collapsing in the dust under legs that could no longer hold his weight.

‘Why am I running?’ the thought tugged at his mind as he slowed his pace, feeling the aches from his fight with Simba, the pain of deep wounds from the hyenas… all of it combined with his own physical weakness to bring him to his knees.  Too much blood had been lost, he was sure. Poor at it as he was, Scar was still a hunter.  He’d watched prey bleed out and was sure he was doing the same.  That’s why he felt so weak. Not blood from one injury, but many.  Too many.  ‘I am a king.  Kings don’t—’ the thought was stolen as he saw the shadow approach.  He hated the whimpering sound that he made as those feet stopped inches from his bleeding paws. A tremor ran down his spine, but nothing else of his body would respond.

The Watu knelt beside him, holding his spear out for balance.  Scar could make out nothing of him.  Whatever fur and adornments he wore were indistinguishable from the impenetrable dark that was his being.  Only his eyes stood out.  White as polished bone with pinprick pupils that radiated spiderwebs of new darkness from their center.  The smell of burning grass and flesh hung thick in the air.

“Please…”  His voice was rough from a windpipe scorched and swollen from various abuse, body too dehydrated to form tears.  He didn’t want to—wasn’t ready to go.  To no longer be.  Though it would end the hideous pain he was in, put things right as his body returned to the Circle, but it was also terrifying.  All King Ahdi had ever mentioned was the stars and the skies and the Great Kings.  Scar was sure this was not what Mufasa saw when he passed beyond, or their father, or—please, by the Ancestors let his mother have been spared this terror.  But they’d been good lions; lived for the defense of the pride.  No doubt this creature was sent for those who’d done as he did.  He wondered if he would be condemned to suffer for all eternity at the hands of this, or another being, or merely cease to exist, never to know the glory of the stars.

The head of the Watu lifted, hand paused the width of a claw from his chest.  Threads like spider silk tugged at his heart, lifted it.  Fingers reached out, brushed over his mane like a winter breeze, and for a moment he felt light, starting to float outside of himself.  It was almost pleasant.  Maybe, he thought, just maybe this won’t be so bad.  Everything hurt so much that even old pains were forgotten.  If he got to feel a few moments without anything, it might be worth it.
The hand withdrew, and Scar felt some of the chill withdraw.  As that cool aura pulled away, the pain returned.  Pain proved he was alive, but--- did that mean Death would not have him, either?  Would leave him to a misery that never ended?  He hadn’t wanted to die, but he didn’t want to wallow in agony for time without end, either. Green eyes watched with a sinking sickness as Watu stepped back, turned away, and left him in the yellow dust of the dry savanna.

Vaeri wrote:

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

Let me correct this for you...

Vaeri wrote:

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

This one of Scar looking at the thing is amazing. <3

Tymber wrote:

Vaeri wrote:

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

Let me correct this for you...

Vaeri wrote:

I love Scar too! Hands down, "Be Prepared" is the best villian song hands down.^^

This one of Scar looking at the thing is amazing. <3

And a shame it was left out of the CGI movie. SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME


Yes, he has discovered a trail cam and is smelling all the strange smells on it, as cats do. They make the funniest faces when doing the sniffy-snff. I was going to do drawings of the pics taken by it, but I got distracted. I have another in the works instead.

He fits, he sits.

Going to try and keep my art/writing bug alive so... hopefully this thread will be more active!

On to colors...!

Aww how cute. But maan does Scar look different with a gentle face...o.o

I start to like this torn and "frayed" old tom. *hesitantly pets and tries scratching* I love his big paws and the white strand. The little falcon(?) turned out so cute snuggling in like this. Scars eyes look ... human - in a positive way.
I love to follow the developement from sketch to the finished picture, Koji.

And "boxed lion" is prizeless! Cat stays cat - no matter which size! ^^

Vaeri wrote:

Aww how cute. But maan does Scar look different with a gentle face...o.o

Thank you!  And doesn't he?  Sometimes it's the little things in life...

Embala wrote:

I start to like this torn and "frayed" old tom. *hesitantly pets and tries scratching* I love his big paws and the white strand. The little falcon(?) turned out so cute snuggling in like this. Scars eyes look ... human - in a positive way.
I love to follow the developement from sketch to the finished picture, Koji.

And "boxed lion" is prizeless! Cat stays cat - no matter which size! ^^

He's been through quite a bit by this point.  A lot a lot.  Not that it wasn't karma. And little Mzuka is a bateleur eaglette.  The same one resting in his paws in the first pic, though all grown up there.

And it has been proven that cats will be cats.  Big cats like boxes, too!

And the finished bit.  I decided to break from my comfort zone of markers and try colored pencils.  Scanner washed some of the subtle shading form it, but... I'm happy! I'm going to play with pencils more often!

WIP

I love colored pencils, Koji. They have their very own charm and old Scar turned out amazing!

Back to markers, Koji? More WIP ... love to follow how it developes and changes. The colors look soft and tender ... fitting this peaceful scene.

I'm impressed. I never was very good with colored pencils...*looks sadly at giant box of colored pencils* perhaps one of these days i should try again. I am definitely no good with markers. So you are doing a marvelous job!

Embala wrote:

I love colored pencils, Koji. They have their very own charm and old Scar turned out amazing!

Back to markers, Koji? More WIP ... love to follow how it developes and changes. The colors look soft and tender ... fitting this peaceful scene.

Most of the paper I buy is definitely aimed at markers, as I try to not have them bleed or eat too much ink. LOL. And yep, back to it for the moment, though I paused that one for another I'm working on. And it isn't even Scar this time!

Vaeri wrote:

I'm impressed. I never was very good with colored pencils...*looks sadly at giant box of colored pencils* perhaps one of these days i should try again. I am definitely no good with markers. So you are doing a marvelous job!

Thankoo. They're definitely not my preferred, but I like to go outside the box every so often. I do love inking shiny hair/fur, though, and trying to do a little texture here and there. Coloring all his new scars was a lot of experimentation.

Trying to get back into art and doing some inking on stuff that's been piling up for a year or... three.  Playing around with a slightly different line style.  Works for some, maybe not so much for others.

Kojiyumi wrote:

Your outlines are so clean and crisp! The picture above with the hedgehog really touched my heart!  The character looks very kind and the little hedgehog is adorable!