culper355 (culper355) wrote,

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"From Himself Can Fly" Master Art Post

Title: From Himself Can Fly in spn_j2_bigbang
Author: sagetan
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Dean/FCs
Rating: R
Summary: Dean is twenty, ready to take on the world and make Dad proud. It's just him and the road and the hunt these days, and his grumpy late bloomer of a daemon. Okay, so Sam is still a wolfhound one minute and a corn snake the next, so what. They can worry about Sam finally settling into a permanent form after they've dealt with Dean's freaky new mind-reading powers. Now if only Sam would stop being so damn uncooperative. What's that dodgy fucker so worried about, anyway? It's not like he could possibly have anything to hide from Dean.

Story Warnings: Warnings: AU loosely inspired by His Dark Materials. Temporary death, mind reading, interspecies UST (but all friskiness happens between adult, human-shaped beings).

Art Warnings: Use of mixed media, liberal abuse of trade-marked faces, and name-brand cars,through said media, angst, schmoop, blood, heavy petting (yet to come)Beware, there shall be updates, edits, and additions made to this post in the near future.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the art supplies and computer program it took to create these illustrations

Thank you so much to sagetan for writing this awesome story and for being so patient with me! RL made this a hard one for me to pull-off,and I couldn't have asked for a more kindred author to have been paired with, lol. Thank you for commiserating with me on the explosive realities of RL. Thank you for being such a sport and so very patient with me! It has truly been a joy to be apart of this project!

From Himself Can Fly 1


From Himself Can Fly 1

Main Title Banner: "From Himself Can Fly-To Each His Disparate Self"
Medium: Adobe Photoshop Elements 7


From Himself Can Fly

Illustration: "From Himself Can Fly" (In Progress)
Medium: Graphite Pencil, Adobe Photoshop Elements 7

Relevant Passage:“…The drop is vertiginous, the cliff-side studded with jagged rocks and the foot of the cliff splattered with the remains of the goldhorn. Blood and red flowers are smeared along the rocks and around the creature, marking the gruesome wake of its descent. The white of its pelt and the shine of its horns throw shards of light up at Dean, and he averts his gaze after ascertaining that even mythical goat monsters can't survive that kind of fall.

'Well that's a little anticlimactic', says Sam, now a hawk, flapping strenuously to rise above the windless shelter of the cliff. Thank fuck for being late bloomers.

Dean reaches for him, but his fingertips barely graze feathers before Sam surges into the sky with one great beat of wings.

Dean watches helplessly as Sam flies farther and farther, the predatory shape of him outlined against the edgeless sky already robbing Dean of breath.”

Walk Beside Myself copy

Illustration: "To Walk Beside Myself" (In Progress)
Medium: Adobe Photoshop Elements 7

Relevant Passage:“…He starts walking away without waiting for Sam to follow, and there's a pinch in his chest that fades as soon as it appears. He feels the barest brush of feathers at his back before Sam, a grizzled Irish wolfhound again, headbutts Dean's thigh companionably."

Rent Apart1

Illustration: "Rent Apart v. 1"
Medium: Graphite pencil, Pen & Ink, Adobe Photoshop Elements 7

Rent Apart2

Illustration: "Rent Apart v. 2"
Medium: Graphite pencil, Pen & Ink, Adobe Photoshop Elements 7

Relevant Passages

1) "...'Sam,' he snarls around the glass in his throat, but all he's left with is a broken sack of hollow bones and mangled feathers. Dean cradles him in his arms, crumpled to the ground, and waits for Sam to flicker and vanish, for his blood to turn to ice and his life to end."

2)"...'Dean', he hears again, whispered more distinctly and in Sam's cherished and unmistakable voice. He feels his own traitorous lips move now, and he knows they're not his lips at all.

Dean, where are you? It's so cold down here, I miss you. Bring me home, Dean. Bring me home, Sam is saying, and Dean wishes he could tear his spectral limbs free from their bind and stroke his hair. Sam, curled in a corner, drowning in a sea of fish-mouthed ghosts, eyes unseeing, tongues unmoving.

I'm gonna get you home, Sam, he thinks as forcefully as he can, wondering if Sam would hear him if he just shouted loud enough.

A harpy dive-bombs them from the ceiling of the cavern, that dank dark vacuum they call a sky. Samael Winchester, demon child, soul traitor, bond breaker, darkest of dark stains. You are not welcome in the land of the dead. Daemons have no business here, your lot is to return dust to Dust out in the material world. Only daemons who have corrupted their natures wander these lands. What have you to say for yourself, monster? the harpy taunts.

Her wings are ponderous and grimed in blood and dirt, her face drawn in cruel lines. Her lips gleam with the hunger of the ravenous.

I'm not supposed to be here. Where's Dean? Do you know where my human is? I'm not supposed to be here, Sam moans, eyes darting anxiously around. Nothing but gray and black and tarred feathers meets his searching gaze.”

More to come!
Tags: spn, spn_j2_bigbang2012
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