Welp, I'm a little new to this sort of thing, but thought I'd join in!
(a.k.a the artist I'd like to flipping marry because she is so unforgivably thoughtful and talented and awesomesauce
) shared some of my work on her journal page so I thought I'd do likewise.
The rules of this game are that I share three (THREE?! JUST THREE?! WHERE THE FARKING BUMWARK DO YOU GET OFF WITH THAT I SWEAR TO PIE) of her many impressive works on my journal page. I'll add a little description of each piece too, just so that I can blither on about her adorable art-style (and I can for hours).
How do I use this techomology, I swear to....*Grumbles*
Hmmm. Unfortunately, I'm having some trouble getting the pictures themselves on the page....
This is a really, really hard decision here, folks. Especially considering there's a wide range of things, such as regular art, doujinshi, and comic pieces in HyperK's work. But Hyperkaoru is a story teller as well as an artist, and I love her ability to incorporate both in this adorable cartoon of Finland and Sweden.
Sometimes her comics are bitterly poignant, sometimes (such as in this case) they're too adorable and silly (if you're a Psycho fan and a proponent of kitty love, I'd check out a verrry interesting comic she made....
, and more often than not they melt you into a pleasant pile of goo.
Ah, dear, socially blunt and darling Berwald. Talk to a customer for a moment or two and decide to marry him. O_o The chibi-style makes me want to flail stubby little hands and start dancing.
Is this shameless self-promotion? YES. BUT WE LOVES IT SO MUCH WE CAN'T STANDS IT, PRECIOUS.
This is another great example of storytelling, only instead of using any dialogue HyperK uses a thousand words with this drawing here. The texture is warm (even if the story gets progressively colder) and the expressions definitely do the characters justice. I hngg a lot over HyperK's work, but this one is definitely one of my favorites because it's...flipping cute and flipping scary all at once. Arthur LOOKS MEAN. He is a grumpy, clingy sort of big bro...he kind of does his clinging in a cat-digs-its-claws-into-you-sort-of-fashion. Let's face it: He's not a nice guy. But you root for him anyway and feel a little weirded out by it afterwards. Alfred just looks...so happy and bubbly and free, and the fact that he's holding Ivan's hand gives a glimpse of symbolism here that makes me shamelessly flail like the shameless nut I am. A lot of who these guys are is in their posture and facial expressions, all of which are beautifully animated and make me very happy. Much love and gratitude, my friend.
Okay, so I cheated. Whatever, dude. In my defense, there are four categories, not three. Because the latter is in a game series which is really, really adorable and fun!
I've never played Dating games before and NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM LE MISSING. Plus, it was RUSSIA. Adorkable, sweet Russia, whom HyperK likes making look like a freaking cherub, for crying out loud. But man, if I really got the chance to go out with Ivan Braginski....! Then again, I can also very much accept his going for a slice of American pie.
Warning: This game will either make you cry or give you a cavity or both.
It's really fun, kind of like a "choose your own ending" storybook. I like this!
Number 2. Warning: If you do not like le gay (and I respectively note not all my readers do), do not look into this. It's not hardcore stuff by any means, but it definitely makes your heart hitch somewhere in your throat.
It's very nicely done, looks totally legit (because it is) and starts out with an adorable wittle kitty.
Thankfully, HyperK and I both adore kitties, so we get along very well on that front! I sadly feel the compulsion to put at least one in almost every story, because I love Nekotalia so much....
Huh? Oh. Well, this piece starts out pretty sweetly, with Vodka (dark fuzzums who will melt your heart and soul with cuteness) giving Alfred a hug.
Seriously, you get diabetes right then and there. But Ivan starts....getting weird. I'm the writer, but there is NO TIME I see this and my mouth doesn't go dry. Because Alfred just looks so innocently befuddled, and Ivan shows a glimpse of something really, really bad. I have to go hide underneath my bed now.
So thank you, my dear, for being only too wickedly kind to me.
And for you, an excerpt. Crown of Stars is in tatters, I'm afraid-a lot of my work is-
-but here is a piece. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and was soon replaced by a crisp, pleasant breeze. Russia tilted his head back slightly and smiled, closing his eyes as the wind ran through his white hair like so many tender little fingers.
How the French or English could think this weather freezing, he could never know. Russia shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. More likely than not, they had gotten spoiled on their damp, muggy land.
Mounted atop his white horse, Russia watched as his men quickly and quietly repacked their tents, preparing to march once again. This time, they were heading back towards the bay—thankfully, their travels had lead them back to the coast, so it would only take a few hours' march to get to the boats. Russia would have liked to have left under the cover of darkness, but it would be too late by then; the English and French must almost certainly be aware by now that Russian forces had America. Russia had called role an hour ago only to discover a few heads were missing; he guessed that a few Russian soldiers had defected, or at least had been killed and replaced by infiltrating English or French spies.
They had to get out. Today. Right now.
When Ivan had gone into the wood that morning to wash up, he'd heard no shouts of French and English soldiers hurling insults at one another, nor did he hear any rifle fire.
Just birds singing softly. Ergo, the soldiers were getting ready to attack.
Russia sighed and glanced down fondly at the small boy in his arms, still sound asleep. The physician had given America a sleeping draft normally given to soldiers in need of a good operation, and the boy still slept soundly, much to Russia's relief. Even the hustle and bustle of soldiers and the thudding of horseshoes on the ground had not been enough to wake him. He wondered if the boy had truly been given a powerful dosage of the potion, or if America was just a really, really sound sleeper. Perhaps both.
The Russian moved his large, pale fingertips lightly over the child's brow, brushing the blond strands. Already the scratches on his body looked better, were starting to fade away. Ivan was pleased. He pressed his lips against his temple.
"Dobroye utro, zaichick," he said gently. "Good morning, little rabbit."
America made no reply. Russia turned over America in his arms before tucking him back in beneath his furs. America, he decided, was very much like the strange little yellow bird he'd one glimpsed in the treetops, chirping a pleasant song to itself as it stared down the curious Russians with beady little eyes.
"How is he, general?"
Russia glanced up; the mousy-looking soldier who had brought news of America was now addressing him at a respectful distance, his eyes on his interlocked fingers. "I…hope he will not catch cold."
"You realize what must be done?" Russia asked, the smile fading from his voice. "You have spoken to him?"
Toris looked nervous, but simply nodded.
"Da. God go with you, sir," he said, as Ivan whistled and the soldiers flew into position, running into their assigned lines immediately. Toris closed his eyes and quickly made the sign of the cross. "God go with all of us."