Dark Hours: Voice Picture


-Earth Master: The Icy Elemental known as Voice is in truth a physical manifestation of the planet's consciousness. As such, there is nothing on this earth that it is not aware of. Every minute element, every change, every good time, every horror, it is all known to him. Its ability to appear at moments of need borders on omnipresence, though the exact extent of these abilities has not been seen. If they are anything like the fiery counterpart elemental Profrit's, though, then there is great reason to fear.

-Cryomorph: Voice's physical body, though remarkably human-like, is able to twist its form into any shape needed, often into complexities the human mind would have difficulty imagining.

-Hypercane: Voice can channel pressured air into powerful currents, capable of altering entire landscapes, as well as the innards of foes.

-Glacial Form: Like its counterpart's infamous magma form, Voice is able to take the form of a gargantuan, sentient glacier, capable of physically annihilating the face of the planet. This form is rarely seen, and only used when first emerging from the eons-long slumber in the planet's core.

-Aether Crunch: Truly the deadliest weapon known to naturally exist on the planet, shared only by Profrit, Voice can wield the life-energy of the earth itself. This is ineffective on native beings, but foreign elements like aliens are obliterated by the assault due to lack of compatibility with the energy signature. It is assumed that those with a similar wavelength in their own homeworld would be better equipped to resist, but further research is required.

Description: My time in the Idiom, the spaceless space between existence and non-being, led me to many things. Things you would not even begin to understand if I told you. It was a dangerous journey, though looking back it seems like such a fleeting affair. For once I found the lovely, azure earth, none of the past mattered. None of the loss, none of the death, none of the loneliness. I was often told by my elders that Deians, more than anything, are driven by a desire to create. We each have a distinct image in our minds of perfection, and through that lens we move throughout the abyss.

Earth was my lens. My canvas. Perfection.

But you see, it was not mine. Not yet, anyway.

I would not learn of this until much later in my long life, but the earth was quite capable of managing itself. An acquaintance of mine and fellow traveler of the roads leading nowhere once happened upon the blue world, when it was far younger, and far less organized.

Earth was not one, but two. It was forged in the Promethean events of a star's birth, when two smaller worlds, fledgling, infantile, collided. Their very beings merged into one, and unity was lost. In fact, the two splinters of separation seemed to not agree on any matter, and for a time it was believed the planet would destroy itself from lack of foundation. My acquaintance, the enigmatic Shom, was attracted to this attritioned chaos, as he always has been. He found the planet rending itself blindly in burning rage, the very elements at war. If there was a system to this madness, not even Shom could derive it.

He decided to step in and provide wisdom for the planet, but naturally he had to defend his claim. The elements waged war on him for what seemed an eternity, their gravitas ultimately unable to match the dark boundlessness Shom so effortlessly commands. He could have defeated them, ended it then and there, but he didn't, that was never his goal. Through unity against a common enemy, the planet had rallied itself and further melded into a near perfect whole. But, this whole was still incapable of perfect, seamless function, and a system was put in place.

There were three incarnate elementals remaining, and one was exiled from the planet, doomed to rotate around it within the lifeless moon. The other two instituted a system most ingenious, one would slumber within the earth, gain power, and rise only when needed, or when the other, in charge of the surface, grew weary. It was this system that I disrupted. Perhaps, foolishly so.


Here we have the revamp of the primordial earth elemental Voice, a portmanteau of Void and Ice. His design has streamlined well over the months since his debut, I must say.

If there was a piece integral to the mythology of Dark Hours, this would be one of them. Voice and the cthonic elemental cycle was an idea I had some time ago. The earth is a very spherical world, in more ways than one, and that symbology carries strongly in the themes of these elementals. Voice originally was simply a globe of ice until Shom, an anti-villain in Vagrant Verse you will someday meet, arrived and (*coughchoughforced*) inspired them to act on a higher plane. This explains their humanoid shapes being present before Spinovah, the creator of mankind's arrival, but making perfect sense of all that would require a big, lengthy delving into the mythos of Vagrant Verse and believe me none of you want that right now.

Despite the fact that he is imprisoned in Kayundjin's being and may seem filler, I deeply enjoy Voice's character, and really want to write for him more often. He is conflicted, a xenophobe to the extreme, and this often reflects in his conversations through his cage with Spinovah, and only time will tell what will come of that in the story.

His name and Profrit, his counterpart you will later see, both stem from two things that are both ally and enemy of religion, a topic Dark Hours dances with. Voice is obvious and literal, and Profrit is based on the word prophet and ifrit combined. Had a lot of fun with that, after all these guys are in essence the old cthonic gods myth often makes enemies out of.

Anyway, that's enough explaining, I'll leave you to your reading, enjoy everyone.

Oh, and nerd points to anyone that can point out what's different about this drawing compared to most of my others.
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