198: The Odd Ends

There are four (4) NEW colored artworks, (2) NEW coloured works in progress and (3) NEW black & white sketches for DISCIPLE members only. Sign up & log in to view to images by visiting our secret fine dining establishment. For more details on membership tiers, ways to support the site and how to purchase comics/collections, click here. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. 

 

As I embark on sequential illustrations and stories, allow me to take a slight break from the narrative once in a while when I'm creatively spent and post what I have in my drawing board, loose images of loose tales, each related to different threads within the Tales of the Vanished universe of which some of you may recognize: recurring characters, motifs, props and themes. And I suspect many of you have already waited too long. So on to the lavish feast and banquets of sweet roasted flesh.

Many of these are tales I know not when I'd be able to revisit them so I've posted them here for you, some of them in complete glory, a few more works in progress as other stories take priority as I try to complete them as I did with "Carne Asada".

So yes, not stories for today, but just pure, unadulterated art a little bit of "freestyle" penmanship.

Bon app├ętit!

 


 

The first is a scene of an ancient relic, a tablet of immutable function and unassuming form. But it is one with a bloodied history of blood sacrifice and delicious horrors. An artwork finally complete of a tale untold. Perhaps one day we will know the story of the hapless doe who fell victim of the butcher's blade and the diner's teeth.

The second brings the masked men of the ageless cult, but now with a victim of a varied race. The cult does not discriminate. The flesh is regarded with an explorer's curiosity. Like wine of differing regions and names. Riesling. Port. Bordeaux. Champagne. Some young. Some aged. Others plump, and many more slight. And thus both light or dark and hues in between, both equally delight the connoisseur's palate. A harbinger to a forbidden boon to be explored in days to come?

 

A face familiar, once well know. But once her purpose spent, life lived in luxury and fame, now reduced to pieces of unidentifiable morsels. A family's sin, a grandfather's parlor game. His rival wins, and in the end, his spoiled granddaughter becomes... well... the spoils of course. We speak of the rich and famous, but just imagine a tier above, a rank higher who preys on those who live well above their means.

 

The fourth is a scene, a process of the butcher, and that of the artist. The end is not reached, but the potential is revealed. The spectator witnesses and documents this momentous occasion. When beauty will be disassembled and lost to time forever.

The fifth is the sum of all the woman's parts, minus all that makes her human. Anonymous. Unidentifiable. What's left are plump and ready. For what? That's for the chef extraordinaire to work his culinary magic. The possibilities are almost paralyzing!

And for the sixth alas we come to dessert. A lick of the lips, a taste of the lady. It is of things to come, what story shall this be filed under? A gladiatrix's combat between women where the victor enjoys the spoils? Or a baroness who preys on her servant wenches? What is for sure, sweet will be the taste of the tender.

 


 

We can't leave you with just a little more. As thanks for your valued support, dear patrons, diners and custodians of our occult establishment. Pick your teeth with these. Dream of their potential and into what kind of stories they will blossom.

 

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