Carbon

I've been re-watching all nine seasons of The X Files at my leisure, and it's started to creep into my dreams. Last night I dreamt that A.D. Skinner and I were discussing our favorite movies. I can only hope it was leading somewhere sexy, but I woke up.

I'm having a serious love affair with Skinner. I love his contained angst, the way he talks through his teeth half the time, his ill-advised acts of devotion. Being built like a steam engine don't hurt him, either.

This is like a little tableau of the episode "S.R. 819", where that asshole Krycek infects Skinner with this intelligent carbon virus, which he can control with a handheld PDA, apparently. Krycek lets him live, but reminds him that all he has to do is push a couple buttons anytime he wants. Which, I can only assume, is his way of blackmailing Skinner for hot hot love. And I can't fault him for that.

So you've got the PDA there, a magnification of the carbon amid blood cells, and Skinner doing his broody thing. On the left there, he's wearing his boxing guard. (Skinner feeds so many of my kinks, including boxing.)

I was inspired by some of my friend Andrew's art, his classic comic treatment.

materials: ink on bristol & PS7 (dirt brush from Brusheezy.com)
music: Massive Attack, "Inertia Creeps"
Do not reproduce without my explicit permission.