Blood Magic: Embrace
Funnily enough, I never gave this piece a proper title, and now it’s just called that in my head. I drew this with colour pencils and watercolour, which resulted in an interesting texture.
Blood Magic: cover art
I haven’t drawn many illustrations of these two yet, because their designs are in a constant flux in my head still. I do feel like I hit the nail on the head with Zsiga (on…
This comic is from 2018. Béla and Zsiga have since then mainly starred in my short stories, because I find the intricacies of their multi-layered and at times strained relationship easier to explore in words…
Zsiga had always wanted a puppy growing up. It wasn’t that anyone in the house was allergic, it was just that his parents had never liked animals much, and no matter how he begged they didn’t let him have so much as a goldfish. Perhaps it had been for the best, he now thought. He…
Dust and Smoke
The building itself shook from the sheer power of the explosion. Dust, smoke. People screaming, running. Magic ricocheted off the walls, adding to the chaos. Béla’s head whipped around, wand gripped in his hand. His eyes found Zsiga through a curtain of haze just as a second explosion rent the world apart.
His jeans were soaked to the knee as he marched down Oxford Street. London was extra miserable when it rained, at least in Zsiga’s opinion, and his mood wasn’t improved by the fact that Carl only picked up after the seventh or eighth ring.
Zsiga carried in another box and laid it down on the bed, next to the others. His old bedroom was a mess. He had never properly moved out, not consciously, but after dividing his time between the Atrium office and Carl’s London flat in the past years his things had simply drifted off into new…
“So how do you want to do this? Pretend we’re lovers and see where that takes us?” Zsiga asked. Béla shifted at the word ‘lovers’. They sat face to face on Zsiga’s bed in the attic, Béla with his back against the wall. If he still looked skeptical, at least it was a step in…