'A cell must contain within it five independent forms, each commanding their own arsenal of spells and lucky weaponry. Just one of many intrinsic magical laws adhered to by The Solar Armada and their offspring. Personas from across the gamut of Elspeth's grief and voltage forever offer solace in the shape of unique patterns of artillery to be pulled from space at will. Metronome enamel, amnesiac hide, green creation space and even vast protective stars made flesh drip from the sky to team up, becoming four quarters and equating to a single breath. Ink on a leopard carriage canvas, for example, can deftly cloak a team of splendor and swords under the bloom of a virtuous thread unsevered. It just needs to be asked for. Antlers glitch and appear briefly to the ordained and boats are folded to rescue them.'
Pen and ink drawing colored digitally, 3535 x 3535 at 300dpi
