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steampoweredstarsketch · 2 years

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“I Miss You More Every Day,” This is Hana Levonne, a gruff old cowboy of a woman, who works hard, shoots sharp, and is the sheriff of her small Wild West town. She is also the designated Storm Chaser, that rides out and warns homesteaders to take cover when a tornado is approaching. As her township is in a flat rural desert landscape floating in the sky, tornadoes are extremely dangerous and fairly common. Years back, her wife was tragically killed in a tornado, and she just barely didn’t get there in time to save her. This turned her in to a reserved, hardened old sheriff thats overprotective of her township, and hits the bottle a little harder than she should. She left pretty much all of her wife’s things exactly how she left them before her death. Later in the story she gets a bit of a redemption arc where she makes peace with her death and gets on with her life like her wife would have wanted. #originalcharacter #originalcharacterart #kbridgeart #lighting #paintings #digitalartist #digitalart #cowboy

#kbridgeart #my ocs #original character art #lgbtq #lesbian cowboy #hana levonne #my utopia story #digital art #digital painting #paintings #western #lighting

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steampoweredstarsketch · 2 years

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Hana Levonne, Storm Chaser

A poem, by kbridge00, (@steampoweredstarsketch)

I am lightning.

I am water.

I am the tirade of hooves pounding against acres and acres of dried packed dirt and brush stretching into an endless desert, kicking up clouds of dust behind me.

Against the downpour and exhilarating gale,

I ride on in defiance,

As the bolts crackle across the sky with great thunderous force!

The nasty beast nipping at my heels,

I keep my eyes forward towards the homesteads,

Ready to bang the warning gong.

I am fire

I am honor

I am the scorched earth et up by exploding crimson light that threatens to consume the whole damn horizon.

Transforming it into great choking billowing nimbuses of darkened inky black, bleeding up into the air.

Soot that will come and rain back down on the plains, turning it all into endless grey and suffocating black, that will coat and blind and kill what crops do grow.

I am the quickdraw to the bandit.

The executor of the law.

A sure shot against invaders.

As sure as the rooster’s caw.

Mediator of the folk.

Protector of my town.

I am prepared to bear the yolk.

I am she who doubles down.

I am the lover of the flower,

She, the singer of the song,

The keeper of her people,

The hair that’s silky black and long.

That rains down onto her shoulders,

Two onyx waterfalls.

The hands that play the shamisen.

The cheeks beaming under smiling eyes.

She, the one who dares to wonder,

She who stares up to the sky.

I am the rains that don't never come.

I am the rains that do, and don't stop for days,

I am all the drops that drown,

I am those that wash away.

I am the sun that blinds and scorches,

And the same that warms with abundant rays.

I am the campfire in the darkness.

I am the empty open space.

I am the banshee bounding towards the tempest.

Toward black locks swirling far on through the gust.

I am the spurs that dig harder as I ride

Toward the unrelenting vortex of dust

I am the arms outstretched and reaching

The flower’s screams, a whisper through the rage

I am the last of the storm chasers.

And I just got there too late.

I am the joy from when she smiled

I am the tears in the void she left

I was the pallbearer of the shovel.

Though we both had vowed, till death.

She became the soil.

My tears, the water's breath.

What little she gave, the fertile,

Where someday things might grow again.

I am the dust that swirls and covers.

That blinds to what's in front.

That coats inside your nose and mouth and eyes

What makes you cough up blood.

I am the ground that shakes.

I am all the hate inside.

I am the sickly green that saturates,

That dims and clouds the azure wide.

I am the thunder of the footsteps.

I am erosion over time.

I am hail, absent of rainfall

I am she who will not abide.

I am the coyote that howls in mourning,

I taunt the rage filled wailings from the sky.

I am the harbinger of the warning.

I am the bereaved ones, asking why.

Against the assault of nature I declare,

“I am Protector of what is mine!”

I am the bobcat bearing teeth,

I am the Bicen born again,

I am the twister to destroy,

I am the lover of the friend.

I am the raging cyclone’s howl.

I am the roots that stretch beneath.

I am defender of the people.

I am victim of the grief.

I am hands that birth new foals and calves in spring,

Mine is also the finger on the gun.

I do all that I am able.

My regret is that, I am only one.

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steampoweredstarsketch · 2 years

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"Chasing Twisters"

Inspired by the song "Chasing Twisters" by Delta Rae. This is Hana Levonne. She's an old western cowboy lesbian in utopia story. This is the day she lost her wife to a tornado in one of the many windstorms that occur in that segment of Augrora.

At the time Utopia Story occurs, she's an old hardened sheriff, one hand on her rifle, the other gripping the neck of a bottle, constantly reliving these few seconds all these years ago where she got there just a little too late.

Her wife she met in a saloon, she was a geisha, sang, and played the shamisen. She wrote poetry and recited stories. She was very proud of her Chinese heritage and took pride in keeping the culture and history alive, even all these years after the hydrogen war and the ascension.

She was gentle and romantic and sophisticated. She had a way about her that could just cut through Hana's tough stubborn exterior.

The day she lost her wife, Hana was lost too. She left everything in their room exactly the way she left it. She just does her best to protect their small western town. She eventually became the sheriff because everyone knew her and trusted her already.

There's a lot of dessert/brushland areas in Augrora, because they were areas of land they had little reason to bomb those areas during the hydrogen war, making it some of the most salvageable swaths of land left afterwards.

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