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"description": "Commissioned artwork. 2023. \n\n-----\n[55501465, 51282779, -]\n\nThe morning sun rose lazily over Stoaskovo, painting the bustling port and its surroundings in shades of gold and amber. Pattarchus stretched out, each of his three heads letting out a satisfied yawn. The warmth of the previous day had left him feeling light-hearted and mischievous. Today, his path took him across the sea and towards the airfield where Rasputin, the ever-smug SU-57, was waiting.\n\nThe airfield, a vast expanse of concrete and steel, hummed with life as the Hellhound arrived. The smell of jet fuel and the low hum of engines greeted him, a stark contrast to the salty tang of the sea. There, at the edge of the runway, stood Rasputin, the living fighter whose sleek lines and commanding presence demanded attention. Its metallic frame gleamed in the sunlight, its wings angled with a subtle arrogance that reflected its personality. The sneering grin etched into his form seemed almost permanent, as if the very idea of humility was beneath him.\n\n\"Ah, Pattarchus,\" Rasputin drawled, his voice soft and teasing, a subtle rumble adding weight to his words. \"To what do I owe the pleasure of your esteemed visit? Do you miss the seas already?\"\n\nPattarchus chuckled, his tail swishing lazily behind him. \"Thought I'd look in on you, Rasputin. Someone has to make sure your ego doesn't overheat.\"\n\nRasputin's turbines whirred, a sound suspiciously added to his laughter. \"Ego? Oh, my dear Hellhound, I am the pinnacle of aerial perfection. Confidence, not ego.\"\n\nThe playful banter brought a mischievous gleam to Pattarchus' eyes. The Hellhound had always been drawn to Rasputin's snarling, dominant nature - a stark contrast to Dyushes' calm and steady demeanour. There was something about the SU-57's swagger that intrigued him, and today Pattarchus decided it was time to put the living aircraft to the test.\n\n\"Let's see if you're as perfect as you say you are,\" Pattarchus quipped, circling the fighter with an appraising gaze. \"Even the mightiest machines need a little care now and then.\"\n\nRasputin's eyes flashed for a moment. \"Maintenance? On me? Ridiculous. I'm impeccable.\"\n\nIgnoring the protest, Pattarchus took a spare pillow from a nearby shed and placed it between Rasputin's landing gear. The jet tilted slightly, giving the Hellhound better access to his underbelly. Rasputin let out a theatrical groan, but his engines purred quietly as Pattarchus went to work.\n\nWith practiced precision, Pattarchus inspected Rasputin's joints and seams, his paws tracing the smooth metal that hummed with life. He cleaned away dirt, gently patted the tendril vents and even polished the jet's metal hull, all while Rasputin watched with an air of reluctant acceptance. The fighter's usual bravado seemed to waver under the Hellhound's gentle touch.\n\n\"You're enjoying this,\" Pattarchus teased.\n\n\"Nonsense,\" Rasputin retorted, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. \"I merely tolerate your antics.\"\n\nBut as the Hellhound's work continued, the dominant facade of the jet crumbled a little. The steady hum of Rasputin's turbines began to fade, almost like a contented sigh. Finally, after a long pause, the SU-57 spoke, its voice lower than before.\n\n\"It's not terrible,\" Rasputin admitted reluctantly, his usual smug grin replaced by something almost vulnerable. \"You're... thorough. I'll give you that.\"\n\nPattarchus grinned, his three heads tilting in unison as he completed the final adjustment. \"Careful, Rasputin. If you keep this up, I might think you actually like it.\"\n\nThe SU-57 let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his grin returning, though less sharp this time. \"Don't let it go to your head, Hellhound. You're good, but not that good.\"\n\n\"Not that good, eh? Well, let me show you what else I can do. Maybe this will change your mind,\" Pattarchus said with a grin on all three of his maws as he adjusted the position of the pillow beneath him.\n\n\"What...\" Rasputin's eyes widened and he couldn't finish his sentence as something warm and wet pressed against him.\n\n\n-----\n\n[i]Drawn by [url=https://twitter.com/ivxair3p]ivxair3p[/url][/i]\nRasputin (Dire Machine - SU 57) (c) by [i][url=https://twitter.com/Rasputin_Su57]Rasputin_Su57[/url][/i]\nPattarchus (Three-headed Hellhound) (c) by :iconPattarchus:\n\n\nI’m happy to share this commissioned piece with you and hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment, share the link, or give it a favorite — and maybe even a follow. Your comments are always appreciated, including those wonderfully creepy comments! ;)\n\n\n-----\n\nIf you enjoy immersive adult video games with dinosaurs, horses and more ... take a look at our game [url=https://www.patreon.com/hybridsvr]Hybrids: Virtual Encounters[/url] and [url=https://www.patreon.com/hybridsvr]check it out on Patreon[/url].",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "Commissioned artwork. 2023.
-----
[55501465, 51282779, -]
The morning sun rose lazily over Stoaskovo, painting the bustling port and its surroundings in shades of gold and amber. Pattarchus stretched out, each of his three heads letting out a satisfied yawn. The warmth of the previous day had left him feeling light-hearted and mischievous. Today, his path took him across the sea and towards the airfield where Rasputin, the ever-smug SU-57, was waiting.
The airfield, a vast expanse of concrete and steel, hummed with life as the Hellhound arrived. The smell of jet fuel and the low hum of engines greeted him, a stark contrast to the salty tang of the sea. There, at the edge of the runway, stood Rasputin, the living fighter whose sleek lines and commanding presence demanded attention. Its metallic frame gleamed in the sunlight, its wings angled with a subtle arrogance that reflected its personality. The sneering grin etched into his form seemed almost permanent, as if the very idea of humility was beneath him.
"Ah, Pattarchus," Rasputin drawled, his voice soft and teasing, a subtle rumble adding weight to his words. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your esteemed visit? Do you miss the seas already?"
Pattarchus chuckled, his tail swishing lazily behind him. "Thought I'd look in on you, Rasputin. Someone has to make sure your ego doesn't overheat."
Rasputin's turbines whirred, a sound suspiciously added to his laughter. "Ego? Oh, my dear Hellhound, I am the pinnacle of aerial perfection. Confidence, not ego."
The playful banter brought a mischievous gleam to Pattarchus' eyes. The Hellhound had always been drawn to Rasputin's snarling, dominant nature - a stark contrast to Dyushes' calm and steady demeanour. There was something about the SU-57's swagger that intrigued him, and today Pattarchus decided it was time to put the living aircraft to the test.
"Let's see if you're as perfect as you say you are," Pattarchus quipped, circling the fighter with an appraising gaze. "Even the mightiest machines need a little care now and then."
Rasputin's eyes flashed for a moment. "Maintenance? On me? Ridiculous. I'm impeccable."
Ignoring the protest, Pattarchus took a spare pillow from a nearby shed and placed it between Rasputin's landing gear. The jet tilted slightly, giving the Hellhound better access to his underbelly. Rasputin let out a theatrical groan, but his engines purred quietly as Pattarchus went to work.
With practiced precision, Pattarchus inspected Rasputin's joints and seams, his paws tracing the smooth metal that hummed with life. He cleaned away dirt, gently patted the tendril vents and even polished the jet's metal hull, all while Rasputin watched with an air of reluctant acceptance. The fighter's usual bravado seemed to waver under the Hellhound's gentle touch.
"You're enjoying this," Pattarchus teased.
"Nonsense," Rasputin retorted, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. "I merely tolerate your antics."
But as the Hellhound's work continued, the dominant facade of the jet crumbled a little. The steady hum of Rasputin's turbines began to fade, almost like a contented sigh. Finally, after a long pause, the SU-57 spoke, its voice lower than before.
"It's not terrible," Rasputin admitted reluctantly, his usual smug grin replaced by something almost vulnerable. "You're... thorough. I'll give you that."
Pattarchus grinned, his three heads tilting in unison as he completed the final adjustment. "Careful, Rasputin. If you keep this up, I might think you actually like it."
The SU-57 let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his grin returning, though less sharp this time. "Don't let it go to your head, Hellhound. You're good, but not that good."
"Not that good, eh? Well, let me show you what else I can do. Maybe this will change your mind," Pattarchus said with a grin on all three of his maws as he adjusted the position of the pillow beneath him.
"What..." Rasputin's eyes widened and he couldn't finish his sentence as something warm and wet pressed against him.
-----
Drawn by ivxair3p
Rasputin (Dire Machine - SU 57) (c) by Rasputin_Su57
Pattarchus (Three-headed Hellhound) (c) by :iconPattarchus:
I’m happy to share this commissioned piece with you and hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a comment, share the link, or give it a favorite — and maybe even a follow. Your comments are always appreciated, including those wonderfully creepy comments! ;)
-----
If you enjoy immersive adult video games with dinosaurs, horses and more ... take a look at our game Hybrids: Virtual Encounters and check it out on Patreon.",
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