LUNCH-Art

[Reply #680 on:]

 

Originally posted by Nurdbot:
EL is better

It isn't easy to say that, since Jesse and Lunchy do very different kinds of artwork.
Jesse is more the accurate artist, while Lunch brings emotions through her art to the audience.
 

and a lot more friendlier too.

Let's see: ...
...

...
... yes!
 

*patented Lesbian TOTPD*

[Reply #681 on:]

EL:
What pics are you working on so far?

[Reply #682 on:]

At the moment, the one of Laura Powers.
Pefore you read this, it's best to read the short fic on page 16. This is sort of a continuation or.. Something in the spirit.. As it turned out, this and that don't fit together perfectly.
I hope you like this.

"Well.. The first time I played the Holophoner, it didn't sound.. the way that it does today. You know? The first time you do anything, it's unpolished. It's.. Imperfect." Black eyes hardset barely saw the audience anymore. His popularity had not yet flagged.. At least, not enough to make the first tier talk show hosts eschew him like the third generation mousketeer he would likely one day become. The people in the rows and rows of plush seats leaned forward, hanging on his every word. Might he chance to glance at that dark expanse of glittering eyes, each pair adoring in a hollow way, the sight of one eye.. Downcast, all hope abandoned, would give him pause. Make his tongue slip out to moisten lips frozen for the moment. He would, slowly, resume his sentence after the briefest of beats.
He didn't, however, see that eye. His attention was focused on the host, whose expression intrigued him. His was not a face that was adoring by any means. Cheerlessly jovial, a smile painted on. A weary foreigner, who, like him, might have landed his job with a spark of truthful passion and retained it with a slew of lies. His was a face that longed to close its eyes, and to sleep. It wasn't pretty, but neither was the audience. And, as one more five minute chapter of the artist's life drew to a close, he couldn't bear to look out at that dark expanse any longer.

"You ought to audition, you know? I mean, the pictures that you made were very.. pretty."
When she said that, idly, her hands busied at the hooks of her bra, his eyes were nothing but adoring. This was a picture painted ages before the distaste that filled him when she proved to be anything less than eloquent. Did she deserve a man like him? That was the question that would one day define those nights of his that were sleepless or dream filled. Whenever he hadn't simply blacked out. Did she deserve him?
At the moment.. At that time, he couldn't think that. His eyes were still enraptured by that smooth curve of her hair when it reached her shoulder, untied and uneven and beautifully imperfect. The way she rubbed the corners of her eye. This woman, like a goddess! She scratched gently at the small of her back with the side of one hand, elbow at an odd angle. Legs uncrossed, and she strolled across the room. They were far enough along to feel no shame about their bodies in the harsh light of noon, not quite far enough to be shameless in their treatment of one another.
Fry pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and rolled over, sniffing.
"You think so?" He said, loudly enough to be heard from the adjacent bathroom. He craned his neck to see through the doorway alongside the bureau, and stifled a laugh to see the sink running. She wasn't using it. That was something a teenager might do, a youth afraid of letting its partner hear them carrying out universal functions. Those years.. When one was afraid more than anything else to seem human.
"I.. I know so!" He heard the flutter of paper, the seat creak, the faucet hurriedly turn off. She peered out, hand rubbing at her cheek, beside her lips.
"That was beautiful, Philip. No question! Letting your talent go to waste here, that's what I wonder about.."
His brow furrowed.
"Go to waste? But you liked it, didn't you?"
She didn't seem to be ashamed of her choice of words. "You'll have to pay for the apartment somehow, won't you?" She turned to face the desser, a hair tie picked from the pile in the drawer. Ever practical, pale fingers pulled back unwashed strands to gather them at the back of her head... She paused when she felt fingers upon her shoulder, that familiar smell, his arms around her middle, his hands moving up to clasp one another at her chest. Frozen in one moment, his face buried itself in the whiteness of her neck.
Purple locks were dropped to fall around her shoulders. They remained there for many years.

They had taken the back way, through an alley, to avoid the vultures and paparazzi at the the entrance of the television studio. He raised one hand with the clicker inside to unlock the door remotely. The car was elegant, black as night, its windows tinted to blend in with its doors. Even the hubcaps were laced with black.
She had, over the years, taken on a rather waspy tone. Even she didn't notice it. Prim countenance, soured and dry, fell upon the extraordinarily retro vehicle.
"Well, it must be time for the crisis, I suppose. It always starts with a new car.."
"I can drive it, this time, if that's what you're worried about. I'm not as much of an idiot as you might think."
"You don't know what I think..!" She snapped. "And you've no idea what I worry about."
"Get in, already." A pause. He lurched forward, opened the back seat door. She sat quickly and barely winced when the door slammed shut behind her. Smooth shoulders rolled, and she cracked her neck. The bun at the nape of her neck began to ache.

The first concert was; as most are; cluttered, unpolished and artless.. somehow charmingly so.
There she was, the first row! He couldn't keep his eyes from her, fingers moving practised and methodical along the instrument. The images above were anything but practiced, figures in bright swatches of color dancing wildly in an elegant frenzy of emotion. The audience(though rather sparse for an opening night) cheered with abandon as the boy stood, legs pushing back the chair with a squeak, mouth an ecstatic grin. He bowed low, didn't think to raise his arms or address the audience. He took a few steps forward, leapt from the stage to the carpeted area below, stumbled- Pushed himself up against the armrest of a chair with its seat folded up, dashed headlong into the arms on the woman in the faded crimson dress and the modest pearl earrings. A choker, black velveteen and imitation silver, set off the pale of her skin in the darkness. Shoulders, uncovered by fabric, were draped with the feathery violet of her hair. The drone of the clapping was an odd soundtrack for their kisses, but that is how the night turned out.

There was uncomfortable silence. The streets were nearly empty.. If one opened the sunroof and gazed up, then one might see the gridlock. All the neon and brakelights and headlights and purple fluorescent glow from above threw the lower streets into a sort of bizarre midnight daylight. Despite the lack of others on the road, they had been driving for over two hours without headway. And this, he imagined her saying in that emotionless clip she seemed stuck in, is why digital is better than analog. The silence.. In the ship, they might have been home in a few minutes. He didn't grow up riding in spaceships, however. Here, he was home. As they turned a corner, still far from the cold apartment.. That's when she piped up. One hand, wrapped around the slender neck of a bottle from the wetbar, stretched its fingers.
His eyes snapped up when he heard it, red rimmed irises unreadable in expression.
"Do you know.." came the drawl, "Where I think you went wrong?!"

The concert that took place six months afterwards was lapped up eagerly by the fans, a packed house crying out for more. The occasional glance at the wife(resplendent in silk and gold twisted in her let-down hair), the friendly wave to the crowd, a smile. Then, you would play, and you would watch what you played to see that it matched what was on the recording, and it would be flawless. Perfect. What the fans wanted. And then you would rise, and bow, and they would love you. Those millions of fans would love you and continue to buy your recordings. Rehearse, rehearse! And they will know what to expect, and they will know what is coming, and they will know they will enjoy it. And you cannot disappoint them! Not by any means. For they are a fickle breed and, if disappointed, they will turn upon you in a moment. The most important thing is to please your fans! They are who the music is for, are they not?
And when you rise you exit quickly, at stage right, and whoever wishes to see you can do so in your dressing room.
-
Still a bit more to come, I'm writing it now![This, of course, jumps back and forth in time.. Any questions? Please email me.]
Fanart for this is welcomed    Thanks!

[Reply #683 on:]

It seems quite sardonic, and yet the language and story are very elegant. I like it, in all.

[Reply #684 on:]

Wouldn't mind seeing more NurdyXAnya pics.

[Reply #685 on:]

'Course you wouldn't.

[Reply #686 on:]

I would of course be very thankful.

[Reply #687 on:]

More good writing EL.  The “present” is infused with despondency, and yet the “past” is so hopeful and naïve.  I’m feeling…emotions…and stuff.  Hope you choose to continue it.

One question, does this take place in the known Futurama universe?   If so, how did Fry become a good musician again?

[Reply #688 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
Mercapto, your art has been sent today!

Great, I just recieved your letter yesterday. Thanks a bundle. 

[Reply #689 on:]

You're welcome, Mercapto ^^
Yay! Emotions and stuff! Uhm, let's see.. Well..
This would, I suppose, take place after The Devil's Hands. As I see it, Fry and Leela have moved to an apartment together. Leela still works for Planet Express, but now only part time. Fry has quit to practice Holophoner full time. If you practice at anything long enough, you will become good at it! Fry has become quite excellent. He plays in a way that is unstructured and emotive. This makes him very popular.. Unfortunately, in order to stay afloat, he must record albums and sell them. When he deviates from the recordings, [many of them written by other people] too much, the audiences do not react kindly. They don't pay to hear scat! So he has no time to play his true feelings, and things turn sour...
If this were a comic fic/if I felt it would fit, there would be subplots about Bender finding a new roommate and Leela's priorities of work and romance. But I left those unexplored. Who wants to write that? 

[Reply #690 on:]

Can't wait to see EL's newest pics!

[Reply #691 on:]

God, put your arse in a freezer for a second, Nurdy.

[Reply #692 on:]

But that'd be animal cruelty, I'll sick my donkey on you if you are not careful.

[Reply #693 on:]

A Pharaoh to Remember and Anya are not quite done. Until then...



A very elegant older 3 Ear Sally.

Yet another John Pic = Laura Powers!

[Reply #694 on:]

Godfellas is just perfect.  Something about Bender's expression and the way the shadow catches his eyes...

EDIT:  Nothing's wrong with a little spoiler-y-ness

[Reply #695 on:]

Churrah! It's perfect? [Z] What an honor! [/Z]
Yet, now I am thinking it's a rather.. spoiler-y image.. Ah well.

[Reply #696 on:]

I love the looks on Fry's face in the Future Stock one. He looks so bewildered and confused.

Godfellas is my favorite episode, so naturally I love that card. The Bart/Laura/Jimbo and Sally ones are cool too. Great jearb! 

[Reply #697 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
Yet, now I am thinking it's a rather.. spoiler-y image.. Ah well.

Yeah, it doesn't really work as a promo card, but it's a great pic nonetheless.

[Reply #698 on:]

Ah Godfellas, I love that episode so much.

'Look daddy! I'm hugging god, If I hug him real hard maybe he'll save us fro-BOOOOOM!'

Great work EL.

[Reply #699 on:]

I like the Laura Powers one. Also, what are the details regarding the BF Clan picture so far?

[Reply #700 on:]

The Future Stock one is great EL, Fry's expression is great.

[Reply #701 on:]

Once again, EL, rockin'. And you made Laura look so... wry. Fantastic. 

[Reply #702 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
Precisely correct. I've read it.. It's a fantastic book, but if you're a Jessica/Roger shipper you'll probably hate it. Rather depressing in that aspect. I'm itching to get the sequel, but it was hard enough to find the original..!

Show spoiler

In the 2nd book, it's revealed that the events of the first book were just a bad dream Jessica had.

[Reply #703 on:]

I love the Future Stock one! Fry's confused look is so cute! The Godfellas one really captures the explosion.

[Reply #704 on:]

Really, John?! Well.. Damn. I mean that in a way that isn't good or bad, but shocked. It IS a sequel, so it's not necessarily completely synchronized with the first book, but.. That's a hell of a thing to know. If only I could find this book cheap!

[Reply #705 on:]

Double post because yes. Here's Anya..

And the last bit of my fanfic. I wrote the very last paragraph while listening to "Ave Maria," it was very inspiring..

"It was the day you met me! It's all my fault... Isn't it? Well? You won't admit it. You're too good. Always toooo damn... good. Ohhh.. Philip, Philip. God, I'm sorry. It was me. If it weren't for me, I.. I.. If it weren't for me you wouldn't have auditioned, right? Right? That goddamn show. And now every night, every night you're reciting a poem you wrote so long ago you can barely remember it. Isn't that right? The first night was so beautiful.." Her voice began to shiver and break. "Oh, my God.. It made my heart swell up, it made me weep for joy.. You poured your heart out onto the stage. And last night, what did you do? You tried to do it for the thousandth time and it looked pretty. Pretty as a picture. It was fake, damnit! It's all a lie! Why won't you look at me anymore? Am I so horrible? Am I so flawed?"
The bottle shattered against the back of his seat.

And it was three years after the first concert and what danced on the screen was the romantic fantasy of someone Leela had never met. Philip's new hit single was written in a fit of lust by a man called Fitzgerald Hines, originally for the violin. It was adapted for the Holophoner by several hologram technicians and cinematography experts. The red was intensified in one scene for dramatic effect, a technician had said. She'd overheard this in the recording booth, a few weeks ago. If Philip knew she was there, albeit in another room, he didn't let on. The blue was selected from a very rare and expensive holopalette.. The slides alone  in the Holophoner he was using in the booth cost five times as much as your standard model, and it struck her that the model he had used on the night of the first concert, the one he had learned to play on, the one with the faded red coat of paint was in a box somewhere for all she knew.
As he played, he watched his fingers with eyes somewhat bloodshot, lips pursed, muscles tense and jerky. He was accomplished, however. Despite his state, his constant stupor brought on by gin and relieved by absynthe and brought on once more by gin and lack of sleep, he could play with the best of them.
He did not see the woman, a statue in the first row, eye long since dried up, hair pulled into a knot that was pierced with an emerald studded ivory chopstick. An elegant pattern of diamonds patterned her chest, green crushed velvet spilling into foamy lace around her thighs. He couldn't see her at all.
He saw, that night, twitching fingers three inches from his crooked nose.
To him, this was a relief. The shame was too much.

"Leela.. I-"
"Don't you say one word.... Philip..."
An obliging silence.
"Well, don't you have anything to say to me?"
Fry paused, eyes downcast, as they turned a corner. He could see the apartment building in the distance.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't love me anymore, do you.."
The car slid to a stop, its gentle bounce as it braked enough to send the woman in the starched white dress, bedecked with platinum and black pearls, onto her side.Blood had stained one glove from the inside. He turned slowly to face her, one arm hugging the back of the passenger seat. Eyes widened somewhat, his cheeks paled.
"Are you..?!"
She raised, slowly, pulling the long glove apart from her slender arm. In the center of a white palm, a piece of translucent glass- spreading out from its entry point, a billowing carpet of red. She regarded it blankly, feeling little pain. A short hiccough.
Philip struggled over the front seat into the spacious second row, one hand darting to hers and pulling out the shard in one swift motion. At this, she winced, that eye filling up with hot tears. Now taking the glove and wrapping it around her palm, now sitting beside her, now unflinching when she fell into his lap, racked with sobs. He was too good for her, she had begun to think.
And yet, at that moment, when he looked down at the woman with her head in his lap, his heart swelled with tenderness, with a horrible guilt at his treatment of her. She had never changed.. She had always been that goddess with soft hair and a kind eye that had loved him the entire time, through good and bad. Was she good enough? How could he have thought that?
One hand stroked the back of her head, undid the ribbon of foamy lace that held the knot of hair in place. It fell around her shoulders in a splash of deep violet.
The sunroof was open, and the traffic had dissipated, a burning violet sky stretching up over them for millions and millions of miles. That moon hung heavily over the dark mantle of stars, scarred and still smiling gently.
"Will you play for me..?" She sighed, after a few long minutes.
"What.. Which song?" Came the reply, hoarse and hushed.
"No. Play.. for me.."

It was to be the final tour, the papers had said. And, every night, the tune.. the show.. Was wildly different. She was there to see every one. The colors that touched every seat, every wall, every inch of the ceiling were bright and lush, the images fantastic and far-reaching..
A halcyon evening in June was depicted, two lovers white against the grass. The flowers were their children of love, reaching to the sky, blossoms tossed in the wind. Petals scattered all around the world, bringing light to the deepest oceans and color to the highest snowcapped mountains. Every creature was touched by this beauty.. Transcended their boundaries, put aside their animalistic tendencies and were, for a few moments, at peace.
And, fiery orange, the living sun plunged ever slowly behind the dark purple hills, its light extinguished as the final note sounded.
This final concert was never recorded in any way aside from in the hearts of those who heard it. And, as the music reached its crescendo, dropped off slowly, slowly.. the house was plunged into blackness and deafening applause. All that made it rather difficult to leap from the stage into the arms of one's lover. But..
Philip managed..

[Reply #706 on:]

Hey EL could ya do me a favor, could you make the laura pwers one like really big, I wanna out it as my wallpaper! (if you dont mind)

[Reply #707 on:]

So cute!

[Reply #708 on:]

I would, Mr. Trick.. Unfortunately once I resized it to be that small, I couldn't blow it up again without making it look crap. :/ How about I send you the original? Just tell me where to mail it.

[Reply #709 on:]

These are all so great. 

I especially like the "New Kid On The Block" and "Futurestock" ones.

[Reply #710 on:]

Heh, cute. Didn't notice the crane game thing until now.

[Reply #711 on:]

Send it to Branniganstyle@yahoo.com it's also in my profuile, thanks, EL. 

[Reply #712 on:]

How is she supposed to send the original artwork to your email adress, Pig?  I don't think that the paper will fit through the phone line.

[Reply #713 on:]

oh, im dumb, is that what she meant god, hit me. well i dont think itd be good to post my adress on a messege board with many who hate me, and maybe a few with the anthrax virus. so once i get ahold of EL, Ill probably give it to her.

[Reply #714 on:]

I doubt that many PEELers have access to anthrax, but pipe bombs are pretty easy to make, so yeah, I'd advise against posting your adress here.

[Reply #715 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
If only I could find this book cheap!

http://half.ebay.com/cat/buy/prod.cgi?cpid=3300233&domain_id=1856&meta_id=1

[Reply #716 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:

Pictures for John, Huzzah! [']tasteful Fry/Leela scene' and Samantha Stanky]

Nice, but not what I wanted. I wanted something like this:
 http://www.gotfuturama.com/cgi-bin/imageview.cgi?/Interactive/FanArt/Erdrik/Pictures/none~none~AfterGlow.jpg
 http://www.gotfuturama.com/cgi-bin/imageview.cgi?/Interactive/FanArt/Erdrik/Pictures/none~none~AfterGlowii.jpg
 http://www.gotfuturama.com/cgi-bin/imageview.cgi?/Interactive/FanArt/Erdrik/Pictures/none~none~AfterGlowiiC.jpg

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:

Very cute, but I kinda wanted Samantha by herself and her eyes should be open.

[Reply #717 on:]

You get what you get you selfish bastard. Buth that's not the reason I wanted to post here, my question is what size is the Laura Powers one, I neeed to frame!(i feel like a woman saying that)
rewored: Yo, I need to framez and shit like that, Homie.

[Reply #718 on:]

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
I like Gunsmith Cats but I'm ashamed to say I don't know who Goldie is. Didn't read that one. Anyway, I wanted to stay true to ATHF, not the laws of hot anime chix0r.
And yes. Yes they were. God I love Err. [Prof]Oh my[/Prof], they seem to be naked! Haha.. The Chaotix I'm familiar with.

Nice, but I'd like it to be in color

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
I'm not down with that Robot/Bomb/Squirrel thing, jiveturkey! I was raised on the first ten issues of Knuckles, the comic, and by God I'll die by it!
Also Julie Su is hot.

I'm just a wee bit scared that a heterosexual girl is saying this

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
'Kay, so.. lets get this outta the way..
younger version(s) of Amy Cute. CHECK!
Amy's childhood scrapbook It's possible. MAYBE!
Kif and Amy's wedding VERY Cute. CHECK!
Fry's birth Seen that in the show.

But not in your wonderful drawing style.
 
 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
DENIED!
Leela's birth Ditto. DENIED!
the orphans Bender adopted in tChRs The Cyber House Rules card is in the works and that features Bender and the Orphans. CHECK!
a tasteful sex scene of Fry and Leela POSTED!
a tastful sex scene of Kif and Amy Tasteful LOVE scenes, sure.. I shall put nothing graphic here. MAYBE SORTA!
Bender hugging Fry from HioRs Ohh, you mean the CREEPY HUG. Okay. CHECK!
Bender saving Fry, Leela and Nibbler from BGsM Do you mean Bender Gets Made? Uhmm.. Nah, aside from Clamps, I didn't like that episode much.

I'm a bit surprised that you don't like that ep. I love it! Amy was perhaps at her cutest in that turtoisqe dress and I loved that Bender went out of his way to save Fry, Leela and Nibbler.

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
DENIED!
Bender burning Wal*Mart with his cigar ...What?

I hate Wal*Mart because they're unfair to their workers.

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
 DENIED!
Amy and Leela beating up Amy's parents, Nixon, "That Guy" and Judge Whitey I don't like drawing any of those boys, and I detest fight scenes. You saw how awful the RB card looked. DENIED!
Amy Wong and Cookie Kwan run into each other and are suprised by much they look alike. Cute. CHECK!
The Simpsons as they appeared on the Tracey Ullman Show. ..Nah.. I never liked their early designs[though the first episodes were the best]..

If you think the early Simpsons were creepy-looking, get a load of the protistue (sic) version of Leela from the Vol. 1 DVD gallery.

 

Originally posted by EvilLunch:
DENIED!
Laura Powers POSTED!
Samantha Stanky POSTED!
Stewie and Brian Very well. CHECK!
posters for "Who Framed Roger Rabbit", "Cool World", "Looney Tunes: Back in Action", "Gremlins", "Gremlins 2: The New Batch" and The MST3K eps. where they watch "Pod People", "Manos", "Eegah!", "Mitchell", and "Hobgoblins"
I'll go with Roger Rabbit, Manos and Pod People. I never like Cool World, I can't draw a Mogwai or the Looney Tunes, and the designs for Eegah, Mitchell and Hobgoblins are too boring. PARTIAL CHECK!
Leela as Arale Norimaki from 'Dr. Slump' Eh, kinda neat. CHECK!
A Futurama-ized version of "Cool World" I already said, Cool World was lame. It was a half assed attempt to cash in on Roger Rabbit, its production values were minimal, it had little plot. Cheap in every way with no nudity to redeem it. So far as Bakshi goes, Wizards was better. DENIED!
The Chaotix POSTED!

[Reply #719 on:]

 

Originally posted by Guineapig Trick:
You get what you get you selfish bastard.

Uh, I'm not trying to get what I want. I'm just making my comments and suggestions and disappointments.