While I officially put forth effort in my gold whoring hording, I'd like to see my beautiful Hebrew Vampy at her best.
As I update this, I'll provide descriptions, image references (I do so love stock images heart ), and whatever else I might need to supply.
If you're interested, starting at the beginning of the year, please PM me with the following. So I can separate PMs, Please include "Isis Art App" in the subject.
Why do I ask for a DA account? Because, I might decide to show off the pics in my journal, and if you end up using references, I have to send the Stock owners all the appropriate info. Plus you get more exposure thanks to the stock accounts.
Note: When something is an Isis ref. and the model is male, obviously I'm referring to either the outfit, pose or both.
Another Note: isis stands 5'8", and all her pics involve a scar over her right eye, when visible(meaning sans hat), spanning from an inch above her eyebrow to just a few centimeters from her nose, tilted at a 60/70 degree angle.
Update:
2006.12.14: Reference for Isis/Chair pic
2006.12.15: IsisxBlade ref. 1, IsisxBlade ref. 2, Gen. Isis Ref. 1, Gen. Isis ref. 2, Gen. Isis ref. 3 (so didn't wanna use avi art x.x), Gen. Isis ref. 4 (perfect w/o drawn on mustache/soul patch), Gen. Isis ref. 5, Gen. Isis ref. 6, Isis/Nicky/M.Gregory ref.
2007.01.24: Oki, less than a week to my birthday, and I haven't been updating this. Then again, XD I haven't gotten a single comment or anything on it. I'd have some Egyptian Isis avi's, but that requires a white dress, or else she'd be otherwise naked. Decided I'd use a excerpt from my novel to give an idea of Isis' style and whatnot. Okay, I added a few more excerpts. sweatdrop
[b]Gaian Name:[/b]
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[b]Deviant Art Account (if applicable):[/b]
[b]Art Style:[/b]
[b]Pricing Range:[/b]
[b]Art Examples:[/b]
[b]Real Name (If you have a DA Account):[/b]
[b]Deviant Art Account (if applicable):[/b]
[b]Art Style:[/b]
[b]Pricing Range:[/b]
[b]Art Examples:[/b]
General Isis Art
Blood Stained Love Letters
...I was perhaps three or four inches taller than the woman and she looked almost child like as she glanced up at me. Her face looked young and reddened by the cold, and a make-up woman came by and tried to hide this fact as well as she could. I politely refused a touchup, and gave the collar of my jacket a quick adjustment just as a young man counting down on one hand.
“Thank you. I’m standing here at the Lovely Goddess, a popular bar located at the corner of ----- and Second Avenue. With me now is the owner of this establishment, Ms. Isis Fleetwood.”
I knew as the camera zoomed out to fit me into the shot that the two of us looked like a clash of timelines. My attire fitted more with the 1940s, rather than the twenty first century. My suit was a vintage styled, two-toned pinstripe ensemble that I had made myself. It was tailored snuggly, with a white, silk blouse and black, satin collar accented with an oval shaped garnet set in an eighteen caret gold border. The matching fedora was a bit oversized, and tilted in such a way that it concealed a portion of the right side of my face. Folding my, still gloved, hands in front of me, I nodded my acknowledgement behind smooth, dark tan skin, bright hazel eyes, and glossed lips.
“Can you give us any idea of had happened here tonight?”
“Thank you. I’m standing here at the Lovely Goddess, a popular bar located at the corner of ----- and Second Avenue. With me now is the owner of this establishment, Ms. Isis Fleetwood.”
I knew as the camera zoomed out to fit me into the shot that the two of us looked like a clash of timelines. My attire fitted more with the 1940s, rather than the twenty first century. My suit was a vintage styled, two-toned pinstripe ensemble that I had made myself. It was tailored snuggly, with a white, silk blouse and black, satin collar accented with an oval shaped garnet set in an eighteen caret gold border. The matching fedora was a bit oversized, and tilted in such a way that it concealed a portion of the right side of my face. Folding my, still gloved, hands in front of me, I nodded my acknowledgement behind smooth, dark tan skin, bright hazel eyes, and glossed lips.
“Can you give us any idea of had happened here tonight?”
Isis/Nicky Art
Nicky has a habit of hooking her thumbs in her belt loops or pockets or just standing there with her fingers in her hair as if she was combing through it and just got distracted. She has one of those...indifferent attitudes most of the time, but she has moments where Isis can make her smile or even laugh.
<< Isis drives a black 1985 Pontiac firebird, with a LARGE phoenix airbrushed across the hood, with part of the wings drifting onto the sides, if the head faces the windshield. I'm not entirely sure about it if the head points towards the grill. But still, large. (Don't question the year of a vampire's car. XD I like that style.) Updated body wise to make it look sleeker and more....'customized'. No neons. e.e;
Isis/Nicky/M.Gregory Art
Mid-forties. Very tired looking, but with a faint spark or that little kid who wanted to be a big-time detective. He's an alcoholic, but that doesn't really need to be added in. He's typically seen with his arms crossed or either his gun or a notepad in hand. For some reason, in group pics, I see him to Isis' left. o_O
Blood Stained Love Letters
When there was only one police car left, the crowd finally broke up. It was late; they needed to get home now that the clubs were all officially closed. The man in blue waited for me to approach him. He stood five foot ten, with salt and peppered hair. His uniform was in need of ironing, and it looked as if he had probably spent the past two nights sleeping in it at his desk. His skin lacked color, and his grey eyes looked even paler in perspective. He was visibly worn to the bone, so to speak.
BladexIsis Art
(Sans the sleeves and a LOT more cleavage. So yeah, skimpy/slutty looking with knee-high spiky heeled boots. =D)
Well, that is a stand alone thing. Different style, usually dark colours or very shadowy. Isis becomes a corset tank top wearing, slutty skirt and weapon wielding....person. XD Her attitude is a lot more cheeky, because she likes to "frustrate" Blade. (Don't look at me, it's Skye's fault. XD) I like the tattooed, pseudo-futuristic look of Wesley Snipe's version of Blade. He has that serious, grudge holding look I pictured Blade with. (if someone has an updated Comic pic of him, show me. I'd love to see something other than the really old, 60s/70s look.)
BladexIsis fic
She closed her eyes and let her senses take over. She could smell the rot of the vampires, the rushing blood of the ghouls and victims alike. She could feel the flow of the blood circulating in the sprinkler system above. She could hear every single heartbeat from there to the next city and farther. She focused on the cool dampness of the concrete wall behind her, brought her senses in closer, isolating each sound, smell, taste, touch.
She tilted her head back and felt the freshly curled ringlets in her hair as they brushed against her bare back. The silky black strands were cool and stimulating. Her torso rocked rhythmically in the confines of the tightly boned, black vinyl corset; her bosom heaving and shifting as she lifted her arms over her head. Her hands glided over one another as her wrists bent and twisted and her arms waved in time. Slowly, her back arched with the sway of her hips in the split skirt that barely reached mid thigh. Her knees bent with the arches, the vinyl of the spiked heel boots she wore creaking ever so slightly. Her tongue ran across the blackness of her lips that matched shade of white in her theatric powder and the deep violet of her eyeshadow.
She tilted her head back and felt the freshly curled ringlets in her hair as they brushed against her bare back. The silky black strands were cool and stimulating. Her torso rocked rhythmically in the confines of the tightly boned, black vinyl corset; her bosom heaving and shifting as she lifted her arms over her head. Her hands glided over one another as her wrists bent and twisted and her arms waved in time. Slowly, her back arched with the sway of her hips in the split skirt that barely reached mid thigh. Her knees bent with the arches, the vinyl of the spiked heel boots she wore creaking ever so slightly. Her tongue ran across the blackness of her lips that matched shade of white in her theatric powder and the deep violet of her eyeshadow.
