Ain't no Party Like a Fëanorian Party

'Cause a Fëanorian party ends with everybody either dead or on fire.

Call me Rose. It's not my real name, but it's my preferred pseudonym. I like science, sharks, feminism, Hatoful Boyfriend, the Silmarillion, and Welcome to Night Vale.

Fair warning: I’m extremely flippant, and I can often come off as aggressive even when I’m not intending to be, so I’d advise not taking anything I say too seriously. Just assume I’m being facetious.

I have an art blog!

I’m currently playing the best game known to humanity (go drop a superhero in my ask!), and my bropal requested that I draw Captain Britain.

I’ve never read any of his comics, but most of the bookstores I know stock them in their comic sections and every time I go comic-book shopping I tend to spend a while wondering whether to buy him (the answer so far has always been no, because what’s in my imagination is so brilliant that the real thing will only disappoint me).

So I’m fairly well-aquainted with him, and it help that his design kind of… sticks in my head (thigh-high blue boots).

Huh. I did depressingly well. I’ve got a terrible sinking feeling that this game is going to be far less funny to watch than the real Remembered Heroes.

Also I need to learn how to draw straight lineart for superhero bodytypes. I had to sketch this one out in pencils, and that was humiliating.