Beautiful Demon

From the gorgeous images of my burning ‘witches’…

… it wasn’t, for me, a huge step to imagine them transmogrifying into ‘demons’…

… which would really have given the swaggering, blustering, cowardly ‘men of god’ who had raped and tortured these innocent woman…

… the biggest shock of their pathetic fantasy lives, the lives where they were protected by an imaginary man in the sky, who allowed them to pursue their sick interests in ‘his’ name, without any recourse…

… a man in the sky they had never seen, nor ever seen any indication of ‘his’ awesome power, but were perfectly happy to be a part of ‘his’ control over medieval life, and medieval woman in particular…

… imagine their squeaking reaction when one of their victims transformed into an actual, incredibly powerful ‘demon’…

… a demon who was not particularly amused, nor given to letting this little ‘misunderstanding’ go unpunished…

… of course, in my pantheon, ‘demons’, like Fae, are actually extra-terrestrial beings, nothing to do with the religious imaginings of men…

… but, even if they don’t come from ‘hell’, they still have powers beyond human comprehension…

… and, should they choose…

… are as capable of turning a particularly loathsome mortal and his equally repulsive followers, inside out, as they are of turning them to stone. Or not, depending on how annoyed they are. Either way, they will always look stunning, doing it (:

Burn Her

I have often fantasised about what would have happened if the cowardly, misogynistic thugs, and their unattractive, bitter, finger-pointing enablers, who burned bright, independent young woman as ‘witches’, had accidentally burned someone who was, perhaps even unknowing, actually some kind of powerful creature…

… and instead of screaming and begging, the flames caused her to sigh in delight…

… as they transmogrified her mortal shell into her actual, elemental body, her real powers suddenly blossoming…

… would she look at the her feeble-minded accusers with wrathful, power-filled eyes, before giving them a taste of their own punishment?…

… or would she look down of their fear-drenched, grovelling forms with the distain they deserved…

… and, with a flick of her mind, turn the flames into gorgeous raiment?

Plasmic Evolution

I recently pursued evolving this gorgeous, gossamer/fluid-like substance…

… which I quickly began calling ‘plasma’, for want of a better name…

… and while, technically, it isn’t, artistically, and close-enough-for-me…

… it totally is! Gorgeous space-substance…

… drifting through the vastness of interstellar space…

… slowly evolving…

… into space flowers (:

Fae Love

Here’s some stunningly gorgeous Fae princesses, because…

… hell, why not!?…

… I have yet to tire of using Mj to create such fabulous eye-candy…

… and, of course, these sweet creatures are, if you follow and are familiar with me/my work, central themes in my various fantasy musings…

… reality needs more exposure to such other-worldly, pure, guileless beings…

… like the ones I populate my fantasy realms with. Of course, if you know me, you’ll also know these cuties, though innocent, can turn you to a pile of embers if you piss them off (:

Travellers

The Travellers are members of an ancient, highly secretive order…

… they are chosen from all the humanoid races in the galaxy…

… always female, they are recruited from the ranks of the brightest young things, usually, though not always, when they are still quite young…

… their mission is to visit all the inhabited worlds in the galaxy…

… they travel between these worlds in suspended animation, in ships whose technology is known only to their order…

… as a result of these long spans in transit stasis, they are, chronologically, extremely old. They usually spend decades on a planet, carefully observing every aspect of that places culture and development…

… then return to their hidden home-world to report what they have observed, where that knowledge is stored in a vast archive that contains the greatest collection of such data anywhere in the known universe…

… though they always operate alone, they are far from unprotected, or defenceless… they are trained in the most efficient fighting techniques from all the worlds, and protected by invisible nanotech devices which are basically armoured space suits, so they are impervious to most physical threats, though they are also highly skilled in the arts of diplomacy and threat assessment, so generally avoid physical altercations…

… though their order is secretive, it is also known to the ruling elites of most planets, who buy the services of the orders data analysts, hence the Travellers are generally treated as ambassadors. Their lives are long, and exciting, fascinating, and glamorous.

Autumn Loves Winter

Autumn and Winter are lovers who can never touch…

… Autumn craves Winters embrace…

… she feels the cold power of Winters allure…

… she flirts ever closer to her forbidden, older sister. But, just as their lips touch…

… Autumn fades into Winter…

… Winter is left with the taste of Autumns leafy breath lingering in her mouth, and her long, sleepy journey to Spring just beginning.

Daemon Fall

When a Daemon loses control of the colossal power she has wielded for so long…

… that energy rips her Daemon shell apart…

… she explodes across the sky of whatever primordial world she was working on, often creating one last world in her dying, pyrotechnic paroxysm…

… but it is only her Daemon shell that is destroyed…

… she is transmogrified, in those cathartic seconds of atomic annihilation… she becomes something else. She finds herself on one of the nascent worlds she built. She is no-longer Daemon, she is made of nearly indestructible star-matter…

… she is now a World Guardian, her aeons of building work are over, she can now rest for a while. Eventually this world will have other, mortal inhabitants, who she will care for. To them, of course, she will be a god.

Daemon Demise

The Daemon work tirelessly, for thousands of years, realising the intentions of the World Builders…

… whether they were alien, human, or god to begin with becomes irrelevant…

… they become Daemon. They begin to resemble the material they work with, to contain the same awesome power they wield…

… they begin to burn with the force of a star’s core…

… their sheer strength of mind contains this force for thousands more years…

… but, eventually, they forget to contain it, they actually begin to become what they are building…

… they burn, brighter and brighter, losing themselves in their mission…

… until they lose containment.

New Hanging

We hung my latest work in our Artemis gallery, the other day. I put one downstairs, and five upstairs. The downstairs one now means my newest Mj work is now sharing space with my oldest Mj work. Though my Mj work has definitely matured since I first begun playing with it, nearly a year ago, now, I still really like those first works, and feel they nicely compliment my latest work…

… I absolutely love these latest images…

… not only are they exactly what I wanted Mj to depict…

… but I also seem to have perfected getting Mj to give me consistent, relevant backgrounds…

… as I said in a recent post, I achieve what I want to get from Mj by actually not doing what everyone else seems to do! I’ve found I get my best results from constant reiteration of promising images with very limited prompts…

… and by liberal use of ‘re-rolling’, and the ‘Vary-Strong’ tool…

… it has all payed off with these gorgeous, rich images…

… that convey exactly the amount of drama…

… and majesty that I wanted them to…

… splendidly evoking the stories in my head (:

World Builders: Daemon

While the god-like World Builders are the ones who spin the general outline of stars, planets, and solar systems…

… there are another class of being who do the close-in, much more hands-on world building…

… these beings are called Daemon, and their function is to fill in the outlines created by the World Builders…

… the Daemon work right in the heart of the systems they create…

… working with the rawest, raging energies needed to build suns and planetary cores…

… over millennia, the Daemon take on the characteristics of the primal forces they wield…

… they begin to burn like the suns they build…

… they need all their concentration to prevent themselves becoming their own creations.